Chapter 2151: Chapter 2146: Confinement (20)
So, is that how those things come about? All belong to being swallowed but not digested?
Brother Tantouâs words were undeniably shocking, but for Fu Qian, his first response was wondering why there were so few people around to explain it.
As for the process that occurredâ
Fu Qian could easily imagine someone climbing up and down, acting as a scavenger in such a place, swallowing whatever they saw, and finally returning satisfied to the studio.
Of course, this seems to herald a rather troublesome possibilityâpeople have been eaten, and the key doesnât contain the one he needs?
Then, does he have any reason to be here? Should he find a way back to the real world to continue his efforts?
...
The two young people he was looking for, is it possible they also fell into the Inner World?
This speculation could be said to have existed in Fu Qianâs thoughts ever since the breakfast shop experience, and itâs one of his motivations for entering the Inner World intentionally.
Now, whether itâs Brother Tantouâs current look or the clothes found earlier, it all seems to indicate that things arenât quite right.
The clothes seem to suggest someone was here, but may already be gone, and thereâs no key.
"Oh? Which one is the most delicious?"
Even though it looked grim, Fu Qian still chose to deepen the topic, seemingly unconcerned about the torment reflected in Brother Tantouâs memories.
...which one is the most delicious?
Fortunately, the question was relatively mundane, relieving his pain temporarily as he immersed in his memories.
"That girl, the most delicious..."
And indeed, memory has this dimension of taste, and he recalled it faster than before.
Even when giving the answer, amidst the madness and struggle, there was truly a hint of gastronomic delightâcould it be this answerâa girl?
One of the targets indeed met a poisonous end?
"Why is it the most delicious?"
Gently coaxing, Fu Qian smoothly asked another small question.
"Cool...delicious, uh...hehe..."
Surprisingly, the reason wasnât about tenderness but temperature.
Indeed, itâs not very warm down here; if Brother Tantou were a corpse-eater, lying for a while to cool down seems reasonable...
"Which way?"
Nodding slightly, Fu Qian interrupted Brother Tantouâs increasingly abstract tone, facing yet another fork in the road.
"I...donât remember."
However, this time, Brother Tantouâs response was disappointing, staring dazedly at the fork.
Dingâ
Almost the moment he gave an unhelpful answer, a coin was flipped into the air and landed in Fu Qianâs palm.
The palm was even spread open, entirely indifferent to someone seeing the result.
Heads.
But it was just a fleeting glance; Fu Qian quickly pocketed the coin and chose the left branch to continue forward.
...
It truly was decided by coin toss, purely random.
Thereâs not always enough information to make a judgment.
One should not impose on others what they themselves do not desire. Only those who dare to gamble with the unknown possess the most terrifying pressure when forcing others to make similar choices.
Human effort has its limits. Given Brother Tantouâs current state, Fu Qian had no intention to blame him for forgetting the path.
And the two branches ahead were almost indistinguishable; thus, he almost instantly decided on random choice, and this decision-making process appeared completely normal.
Why not just pick one outright, sparing a bit of effort on a coin toss?
Indeed, itâs the legendary suppression technique, helping Brother Tantou solidify a notion, making him believe his presence was merely a signpost, even that role being insignificant.
What if this choice leads to no way out in a while?
Too naive; with such an abstract direction, Fu Qian never expected to truly find a way out.
One must have respect for the Transcendent. In a place like this, whether there is an end or not is uncertain.
The distance they had delved into could almost encircle the Art Prison.
And even retracing their steps was considered a dead end by Fu Qian.
Though it seemed he committed many wrongdoings along the way, cruelly pressuring the companion behind him, it was fundamentally dependent on flawless guidance, maintaining this extremely unstable state.
As long as he showed a hint of vulnerability, likeliest these accumulated fears would explode, making him a part of that body too.
This path was irrevocable from the moment he decided on it, with nearly the only chance of survival being to find a way to switch back to the real world.
"So which one tastes the worst?"
In a flickering light, Brother Tantou chose to continue following.
While Fu Qian, without blaming, continued questioning.
"Yiven."
Compared to delicious choices, Brother Tantouâs answer was quicker this time, with certainty in his voice.
...
Even that one met their end here?
This answer, however, didnât come as a big surprise.
Although the Inner Worldâs style was rather terrifying, there still seemed to be a need for a reason regarding why there were corpses below.
The things Yiven did appeared undeniably off, yet he still wasnât Fu Qianâs primary suspect.
Old Hunter.
From the earlier situation, the competitorâs understanding of this town seemed not shallow, making it unlikely he wouldnât want to come and take a look at such a peculiar place.
Even if the alternative hypothesis comes true, that Huck was actually the Old Hunter, rather than just playing Huck, suggesting to come here searching somehow made sense.
Fu Qian hadnât lost yet, indicating he hadnât found the "White Key" here.
Due to suspicions towards Fu Qian, guiding his visit, observing his performance, even attempting to pounce afterwards, was a relatively common thought process.
So regardless of what, itâs plausible to assume the Old Hunter had already ravaged this place, and Yiven might not have been qualified to be the behind-the-scenes villain.
"Why does it taste bad?"
Although once immersed in such situations, the unending darkness ahead seemed more dangerous.
"Spoiled, just like...wood."
And Brother Tantouâs pondering continued, painfully recalling more.
Like wood? Sounds like an interesting metaphor.
Recalling the scenes along the journey, filled with wood-related elements, Fu Qian shook his head slightly and pushed open another door.
This time, it finally wasnât the same monotonous scene.
At first glance, the space behind the door was almost spherical, marking the end of this path.
Inside this spherical space, something extremely conspicuous was lying there.
Black, bagged, human-length.
Perhaps understanding why something cool and tasty...
Could it be that they didnât die here but were transported after death?
Or deliberately frozen.
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