Chapter 228: The Town Where Memories Are Forbidden

Chapter 228: The Town Where Memories Are Forbidden

Sss—sss, sss—sss…

It was the soft sound of bare feet rubbing against the ground, sometimes continuous, sometimes intermittent, as if it contained a special rhythm, resonating directly in Lena’s ears with a regular beat.

It felt like many tiny insects were surging along her ear canal, crawling deep into her skull.

Lena realized: she had broken the rules.

"3. This town prohibits all music, including but not limited to singing, tapping rhythms, and playing instruments. Violators will bear the consequences."

—And Lena heard Anna’s footsteps dancing to an unknown melody, heard the "beat"!

The rustling sound traveled from her ear canal to her brain, making Lena's scalp tingle as if every fold of her brain was being tickled by something, causing an inexplicable itch to dance at the ends of her nerves.

Suppressing the urge to scratch her head frantically, Lena had no time to dispel the persistent sound of the dance steps, for there was a more urgent crisis awaiting her resolution.

She vaguely sensed… a gaze landing on her back.

Lena stepped away from the peephole and suddenly turned around—

In two holes on the wall behind her, a pair of eyes stared straight at her!

Lena didn’t know when these eyes had been embedded in the wall, nor how long they had been watching her… Perhaps they had been there all along, quietly witnessing Lena entering the house, adjusting the knobs, and peeping at others.

In her mind, the last rule defaced with malice surfaced:

"4. When you spy, ■■■ also ■■■■!"

This is actually a crucial warning, the original meaning of which is: when you are peeping, the voyeur is also watching you.

The original builder of the cottage never left this house that harbored all his dark desires—not even after death. The voyeur left his two eyeballs in the room, embedded in the walls, to indulge in the sight of every visitor who entered!

As the voyeur watched, the cottage took advantage of the visitors’ unsuspecting approach to the peephole, and the walls began to contract gradually, much like a Venus flytrap closing its leaves around prey.

What was originally a space one meter wide and three meters long now measured less than 1×1 meter, the cramped confines suffocating.

Worse still… the only door of this cottage opened inward.

This meant that when the internal space became sufficiently constricted, the door might only open a crack, or not at all, rendering it useless.

At that point, those inside would be crushed alive against the walls, under the voyeur’s frenzied and excited gaze, forever remaining to keep him company.

If Lena had turned her head any later, her back might have been pressed directly against the wall, trapped in the narrow gap between the wall and the door.

Lena made a face at the voyeur, quickly opened the door, and slipped out through the narrow opening with agility.

Until the moment the door fully closed, the eyes in the wall continued to fixate on Lena, savoring the thrill of observing others.

Escaping the cottage, the sound of dancing steps in Lena's ears gradually faded away.

As she walked out of the attraction, she reread the information on the sign, muttering one line aloud:

"…He would hide in the cottage, his eyes peering through small holes in the walls, watching every passerby…"

The attraction had never hidden the fact that the voyeur’s eyes were in the small holes in the walls.

It had merely played a cunning trick, burying the truly useful information within a lengthy passage that seemed meaningless, thus deceiving the reader’s eyes.

Lena successfully collected the first stamp from the staff at the entrance to the attraction, and couldn't help but curl her lips in delight.

Clutching her all-access pass, she was about to board the small train when she suddenly paused.

Something wasn't right.

On the little train—

Music was also playing?

Beneath a sea of colorful balloons, the elegant red miniature train played a cheerful nursery rhyme, its rhythm lively and full of childlike fun. The monkey doll on the locomotive happily shook its head and clapped, as if warmly welcoming children to board and play.

But Lena knew this was a terrifying trap.

She must not board the abnormal train.

After a moment's thought, Lena calmly turned around and raised her hand toward the nearby staff member in a red cap and blue-and-white T-shirt:

"Hello, I need to report a rule violation—the little train seems to be malfunctioning."

The staff member's lifeless eyes slowly shifted to the train.

A few seconds later, the staff member tensed the muscles in his cheeks, forcing a stiff smile: "Hello, young guest. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you."

"The train currently stopped in front of the attraction is not the official one set up by the town. Please wait here for a moment until the real train arrives. Thank you for your cooperation."

Receiving a friendly response, Lena quietly let out a breath of relief, watching as the train playing the nursery rhyme slowly departed.

It wasn't until the bright red color disappeared at the end of the street that Lena realized her all-access pass had been crumpled in her palm, the edges damp with cold sweat.

Fortunately, she had guessed right.

The train's anomaly was unrelated to the tourists; it might be a random occurrence that happened from time to time.

In such a situation, the staff were trustworthy, and tourists could seek their help as usual.

More fortunately, the train lullaby affected Lena far less than Anna's dance steps.

With little effort, the lullaby in her mind subsided, and a reassuring silence returned to her ears.

Lena speculated that this might be because Anna, before being completely taken by the "music," had heard the clearest and most complete melody, thus her dance rhythm was more closely linked to the source of contamination—possessing the ability to bypass the prelude and directly take others...

Too dangerous, Lena thought.

She must gather the seven seals as soon as possible and make a wish to leave this town!

The longer she stayed, the greater the chance of being contaminated by the "music." Perhaps one night, she too would crawl out of bed backward, unaware and carried away...

Lena tried to fill her mind with chaotic thoughts to distract herself, forcing herself to forget the melodies of the lullaby and the dance steps.

Her pale silver eyes gazed vaguely into the distance, and she couldn't help but wonder:

What would the next attraction be like?

...

On the other side, in the attic.

The short man, having just endured a torrent of verbal abuse, hunched his back and slumped listlessly in the corner.

Even among lawless rogues, there are distinctions in rank and power.

Among the three remaining members of the Burning Pure Land, the short man was neither as brutally domineering as the scar-faced man, whose abilities were highly offensive, nor as cunning and resourceful as the rat-eyed one, who was adept at manipulating situations. He had always been at the bottom of the hierarchy.

He had survived this long only by sheer luck, having been pushed into two less dangerous attractions.

Therefore, he harbored a deep-seated fear and reverence for the scar-faced man, who held the power of life and death over them.

Every time the scar-faced man made a move, even if it was just stretching his legs or stomping his feet, the short man would instinctively shrink back, fearing another round of punishment.

At that moment, the rat-eyed man clapped his hands, breaking the tense atmosphere.

"Now that we're down to just the three of us, and with a new recruit collecting stamps, we should be able to leave here soon—no need to make the atmosphere so tense."

The rat-eyed man smiled warmly and gave the short man a meaningful look. "Since we have nothing better to do, why don't you go observe the new recruit's movements? It will give Brother Scar some peace of mind and allow him to rest properly."

During the day, as long as they carefully followed the rules and stayed out of the attractions, they wouldn't encounter any danger.

For the short man, the option to go outside and get some fresh air was far more appealing than staying cooped up with the scar-faced man. Gratefully, he glanced at the rat-eyed man, quickly grabbed his binoculars and other equipment, and prepared to leave the attic.

The rat-eyed man smiled back at him, his eyes narrowing to slits, revealing a sharp glint that truly made him resemble a large rat full of mischief.

He stood by the door, and as the short man passed, he casually used a key to slash the short man's arm, leaving a thin, bloody gash.

"Oops, sorry about that," the rat-eyed man immediately apologized. "I didn't notice... Are you okay?"

The short man instinctively raised his arm and examined the wound.

The cut was shallow, barely breaking the dermis, causing almost no pain, but a few raindrop-sized blood beads welled up.

The short man paid no heed to the minor injury, waved his hand, and hurriedly left the attic.

His reaction from start to finish was exactly as Rat Eye had anticipated.

People's sense of smell for blood is always so dull.

But a single drop of blood mixed into the sea could attract predators from kilometers away—this was the safety mechanism Rat Eye had set up, ensuring that the "Snake" would prioritize targeting others during today's hunt.

However, the person Rat Eye feared most and wanted to eliminate was not the short man.

He gave the scarred man a meaningful glance, then found a pretext to leave, allowing the scarred man to rest alone in the attic—along with the clothes that had been stained with his companion's blood earlier.

Once out of the attic, Rat Eye hid in an abandoned building across the street, his heart pounding.

He had left traces of blood near the other two men as well...

Would the sweet scent of blood draw the "Snake's" ravenous gaze?

Would it make the "Snake" bypass him and hunt others first?

Rat Eye couldn't be entirely sure.

But he didn't think he would lose to the other two unsuspecting fools.

So far, only he knew about the existence of the "Snake," which gave him a decisive advantage. If someone had to die today, Rat Eye did not believe he would be the unfortunate one.

Trapped in a desperate situation where three must die and one survive, Rat Eye had no choice but to make a mad decision:

He would entrust his future to the unknown monster.

— Bet on which direction it swims first.

At the same time, Rat Eye was puzzled, where did the "snake" come from?

Based on his understanding of the town, apart from the attractions and the music at night, the only source of danger was "memories."

This city was unique; things frequently recalled would gradually be pulled into reality, becoming enemies shaped by memory, devoid of communication, driven solely by instinct and desire.

Rat Eye had seen two companions who, unable to control the content and frequency of their memories, were killed by the manifestations of their own recollections.

But as ordinary players, what they couldn't help thinking about repeatedly were usually other players of the same race, such as family, friends, enemies, or even those they had killed and left a deep impression.

If the "snake" truly originated from someone's memory, who could be so reckless as to recall such a terrifying non-human monster multiple times?

They must be trying to kill everyone on purpose!