Chapter 222: The Town You Can’t Return To

Chapter 222: The Town with No Turning Back

"Rules... could they have been altered?"

Constant Luck muttered to himself, feeling a fine, cold sensation lightly and prickly against his arm, raising goosebumps.

Indeed—the old district, with its layers of modifications, clearly bore witness to the varied methods employed across eras in a desperate bid to uphold the town's crumbling order.

All the residents, as if tied to a ship with a damaged hull, watched helplessly as the cracks in the hull widened, water continuously flooded in, dragging the ship slowly into the sea, leaving people to seek various means to save themselves.

And these means of self-rescue were reflected in one rule after another.

Following this line of thought, Constant Luck suddenly realized an issue:

The establishment of all rules must have a specific purpose.

For example, traffic rules in reality, stop at red lights and go at green, aim to ensure traffic safety;

Hospital registration rules aim to ensure the smooth and orderly operation of the vast medical system;

Then what about the rules of the Twelve Cities?

These nominal town rules, which are actually means of self-rescue, most likely ultimately aim to maintain the order of the town and stabilize the lives of its residents.

So, who has guaranteed that—these rules would also protect outsiders?

From beginning to end, these rules were established from the perspective of the town's operation and the residents' lives, without any consideration for protecting outsiders!

Because they are unfamiliar "outsiders," their safety or lack thereof is not important to the rules!

This means that if something would bring terrible consequences to the outsiders, and these consequences would benefit the town, the rules would guide them to do it...

Constant Luck shivered and immediately shared her thoughts with her companions.

"Great insight."

Jason affirmed her discovery, "Perhaps this is the trap of the rules—no deception, but different perspectives and intentions."

The goal of the ascetics is to leave the town; however, the purpose of the town's rules might be to keep them here forever.

The memories of the Ability users are excellent, and at this moment, they can recall all the rules in their minds, picking out those targeting the outsiders:

"6. Outsiders should actively enter the Old District to prepare to become a member of the ■■■■■."

"13. Rule 2 (No Turning Back) is repealed, welcoming outsiders to turn back."

"It seems that the town's rules initially normally warned outsiders not to turn back, but later gradually developed a malevolent tendency to harm them..."

Feet of Time mused, "Why? Because the so-called opportunities for return have become increasingly scarce?"

"Could it be that the excess spirits lingering in the Old District can use the bodies of the outsiders who turn back to return to the New District?"

This is the most reasonable conjecture.

Based on this conjecture, we can simultaneously complete the sixth and seventh rules of the town:

"6. Outsiders should actively enter the Old District to prepare to become a member of the town."

"7. The elderly and the ■■ (deceased) should voluntarily stay in the Old District, waiting for the ■■■ (outsiders) to arrive, so they can leave and return to the New District."

As the only one present who had attempted to turn back, Feet of Time couldn't help but touch his neck.

At this moment, the red marks around his neck had faded considerably, yet he still vividly remembered the chilling sensation of that unknown object pressing against the cross-section of his severed head, trying to burrow into his body.

Reflecting on it... It might have been something attempting to enter his body, reclaiming the status of a "living being."

It was bone-chilling.

"Is the eighth rule of the Old District, 'In recent years, due to the decrease in newcomers to the New District, opportunities for return have become scarce; please be patient, deceased ones'?"

Jason shook his head: "I tend to think not."

This judgment was also based on a clue—

Time.

The rules of the Old District were clearly divided at the 8th rule: Rules 1 to 7 were established before the incident, the original rules, which did not show any tendency to harm newcomers and hinted at a more harmonious and relaxed atmosphere in the town;

Rule 8, however, suggested an unprecedented event in the town, urging the deceased to remain calm;

From Rules 9 to 13, the opportunities for the deceased to return gradually decreased, the original order could no longer be maintained, leading to chaos and making the town's rules increasingly hostile towards newcomers...

Since then, newcomers were no longer seen as travelers or even living beings, but as resources to be consumed.

Therefore, Rule 8, as a dividing line, represented a very special point in time.

Jason tended to believe that when the opportunities for return first began to have issues, the rules were not so radical all at once.

At that time, the requirement for the deceased was merely to "be patient," without resorting to the coercive measures seen in later rules, which also supported Jason's idea—that the rules at that time were still relatively mild in attitude.

Jason said, "Before the incident, there should have been other more stable methods to provide the deceased with an opportunity to return."

"The three missing characters are not outsiders..." Constant Luck muttered, not questioning the leader's thoughts, "Apart from 'outsiders,' what else could be a three-character term that serves as a medium for the deceased to return?"

As she thought, a bolt of lightning flashed through her mind, piercing the chaotic fog and illuminating a line among many rules:

"Each deceased person is entitled to a fair chance of return, with an average interval of 25 to 30 years."

...25 to 30 years.

How was this period determined?

If the residents' lifespans are similar to those of most humanoid ordinary lives, then 25 to 30 years—

is precisely the generational gap between two generations, the average age at which parents give birth to the next generation.

Why does the average interval for the deceased to return to the new district coincide with the generational gap?

It wasn't hard for Constant Luck to find the answer, and she immediately asked and answered herself:

Because 25 to 30 years after death, the deceased will once again become newborns, possibly born to their neighbors, nephews, or even their own children from their previous life...

The deceased are newborns, and newborns are the deceased; the original town maintained a balance between the number of deaths and births, thus creating its unique ecosystem and culture.

No wonder the town's code mentions death so calmly and matter-of-factly...

In this special town, life and death are merely two interconnected and recurring stages!

Constant Luck and Feet of Time exchanged a glance and spoke in unison:

"Newborns!"

The true eighth rule is:

"In recent years, due to the decline in the number of newborns in the new district, opportunities for reincarnation have become scarce. Please be patient, deceased ones."

"The idea of giving birth to one’s former parents... this place is just too bizarre; I can’t stand it for a moment longer!" Constant Luck muttered under his breath.

Feet of Time shook his head vigorously, like a small animal trying to shake off water, attempting to rid himself of the ethical discomfort.

He changed the subject: "The most pressing issue now is to find the [Only Gate] mentioned in the fragment of the notebook as quickly as possible."

"The funeral guide can only stay in the old district for fifteen minutes. Beyond this safe period, no one knows what might happen."

In fact, as the time spent in the black building complex extended, Feet of Time could already faintly sense the bone-chilling cold seeping into his black robe and mask, suppressing his vital signs—this was the aura of death.

Though unspoken, everyone knew that if they exceeded the fifteen-minute mark, the outcome awaiting them would not be favorable.

Jason nodded calmly, "Time is limited; let's split up and explore."

...

Exploring an unfamiliar area while forcing oneself not to look back—

It sounds simple, but it’s actually very unsettling.

With vision restricted to a limited angle, any slight movement or sound from behind becomes acutely noticeable, yet one cannot turn around or check, only moving forward in a continuous, unknown fear...

For someone as perceptively sensitive as Constant Luck, this was nothing short of torture.

"Are you scared?" Feet of Time asked, turning to her companion.

Constant Luck quickly denied, "No!"

"...But the hairs on the back of your hand are standing up."

"You're so annoying! Focus on finding the gate!"

Constant Luck couldn't help but feel anxious.

Several minutes had passed, and no matter which path they took, all they saw were silent houses stretching endlessly before them, with no sign of an exit.

Occasionally, the sound of nails scratching against the ground or door panels would echo, each scratch tugging at their already taut nerves;

Sometimes, as they passed by, doors would creak open slowly, as if silently inviting them to step inside.

After a moment of silence, Constant Luck frowned, "Can you stop teasing me?"

She felt something fine and soft brush against her arm, tickling her, just like how Feet of Time used to tease her by brushing dog grass against her face and nose when she was resting with her eyes closed.

"Huh?"

Feet of Time looked genuinely puzzled, spreading his hands, "I didn't touch you at all."

"You..."

Constant Luck paused mid-sentence.

Even though they often teased each other, she didn't think her companion would lie to her in such a situation.

So, what was touching her?

Constant Luck abruptly raised her itchy arm, which was perfectly clean, with nothing on it; but once her arm hung at her side again, she felt the icy, furry sensation, brushing against her arm lightly and intermittently.

Holding her breath for a moment, Constant Luck realized: the furry sensation seemed to appear in a pattern.

Whenever she took a step forward, shifting her center of gravity, the furry sensation would inevitably disappear;

When her foot landed, that soft, furry touch would return, gently entwining around her arm.

Gradually, Constant Luck began to picture a terrifying scene in her mind—

It was as if someone, head lowered, was closely pressed against her back, their long hair draping over her shoulder and falling beside her arm.

With each step she took forward, the hair would rise and fall.

To verify her hypothesis, Constant Luck continued walking at the same pace, carefully observing the pattern of the furry sensation.

One step, the hair rose and fell.

Another step, the hair rose and fell...

Everything matched the image in her mind!

Constant Luck quickened her pace, moving a few steps ahead of Feet of Time, her voice tight, "Can you check if there's anything behind me?"

Feet of Time gave her a puzzled look, "No, there's nothing—wait!"

His tone suddenly rose at the end, causing Constant Luck to freeze in place, too frightened to move.

From the perspective of the Feet of Time, the figure of Constant Luck was reflected in the window of the house slightly ahead—this window was made of a special resin with a slightly yellowish hue, like an old kerosene lampshade that had been smoked yellow, casting a dusky and hazy reflection of figures.

At this moment, there was another figure on Constant Luck's back... Its arms were loosely wrapped around Constant Luck's shoulders, as if it were being carried on her back.

The neck of the figure was bent at an unnatural angle, its head hanging heavily like a fruit that weighed down a branch, resting against Constant Luck's shoulder.

Strands of long hair flowed over Constant Luck's shoulder and clothing, eventually hanging vertically on either side of her forearm, swaying with each movement, the fine and dense strands brushing against her arm.

After a while, the Feet of Time spoke with difficulty: "Do you feel something heavy on your shoulders?"

A sense of foreboding rose in her heart, and Constant Luck's voice trembled as she said, "Just tell me, what did you see?"

"Look up, to the left front window," the Feet of Time said with a strained tone, "on your back... there's a figure that can't be seen with the naked eye."