Chapter 28:

Mo Yiru fell into the abyss.
His body was cold, and his drowsiness disappeared in a flash. His horrible feeling shrouded his senses, and a dreadful chill sprang up from the tail spine, holding him firmly in his heart.
His eyes were tightly closed, and he was lying rigidly on the bed, slowly and tremblingly adjusting his breathing.
Fear infiltrated through every pore of him, shouting loudly in his mind:
Don't open your eyes! Don't open your eyes!
Under the thin trembling eyelids, the eyes fluttered uncontrollably with the frequency of breathing.
Just then, a small, cold hand grabbed Mo Yi's hand.
The extremely cold touch as the skin penetrated into the bone marrow almost made Mo Yi take a snoring break.
The cold breath came to his ears, arousing a small chill on his skin, and fear was like a stagnant floc, which blocked his breathing and throat, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
The small, soft child's voice sounded again in Mo Yi's ear:
"It's your turn to find me."
After that, a small, round, hard thing was stuffed into Mo Yi's palm.
The cold breath and the little child's hand left.
Mo Yi was still tense, the little round thing was lying in his cold sweaty palm, and the slight chill almost made him unable to hold it, the ice was hot.
He controlled his breathing, forcing his chest to rise and fall slowly and slowly.
The silence and darkness made Mo Yi's senses more acute. He waited alertly for the development of the next thing, his heart stringed tightly.
The boundless darkness is like the abyss that has devoured all voices.
Continuously spreading and expanding, the sponge generally absorbs all the movement and light.
How long has passed--
Excessive tension and fatigue made Mo Yi sleep unconsciously in the silence.
When I opened my eyes again, all the lights had been turned on again.
Mo Yi was lying awkwardly on the narrow bed, and even the loud metal bells ringing in his ear could not call his attention.
He stared straight at the dirty, stale ceiling, unable to take his breath for a long time.
Last night ... just passed by?
Mo Yi blinked, still feeling the same.
Was it so successful overnight?
Suddenly, Mo Yi seemed to think of something violently, sat up hastily, and spread his right hand—
An uneven red mark on the palm of his palm was struck across the white palms of his palms, looking particularly piercing.
And the stuff tucked into his palm was still there.
A round, dark, shiny hemisphere lay quietly in his palm, looking like buttons, but without buttonholes.
Mo Yi stared at it a little stupidly, because the fingers that had been inactive for a long time were a bit stiff, and he held it slowly again.
Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded by the door, waking Mo Yi out of his thoughts:
"are you awake?"
Mo Yi heard his words and looked up.
I saw Song Qi standing leaning against the door, and a pair of smoky pupils looked at him. Half of his face was illuminated by the light outside the door, and the outline was slightly blurred:
"It's five o'clock. According to the timetable, it's morning time."
Mo Yi later looked down and looked at his watch:
5:15.
He stood up in a hurry, taking the hard object that had been tucked into his hand last night into his pocket.
Because she fell asleep together last night, even though Mo Yi slept extremely peacefully, she almost didn't move, and her clothes became crumpled.
Mo Yi unconsciously dressed up, then quickly walked to the door and whispered to Song Qi, who was standing there waiting for him:
"Let's go."
The two walked out along the still dark corridor, Mo Yi opened his mouth, and was about to tell Song Qi his experience last night, but only listened to Song Qi just speaking, and accidentally interrupted what he was preparing to exit:
"Are you OK?"
Mo Yi hesitated for a moment, and later realized that Song Qi was asking about his injured hand.
He looked down at his left hand, which was still wrapped like a mule, and tried to move his fingertips. A dull dull pain passed along the wound instantly.
Mo Yi answered without changing his face, "It's much better."
Just then, the two met other players who came out of the rooms next to each other, and they seemed to be going to the restaurant.
Several people went together.
Mo Yi had to swallow the words that were going to be exported.
When we got to the restaurant, several people were already waiting there.
Mo Yi calmly looked around the room, counting the number silently in his heart: still eight people, no difference from last night.
It seemed that everyone had spent the night in peace.
Seeing that everyone was here, Zhao Yicheng stood up and said, "It's great, everyone has survived the first night. Let's get breakfast."
Mo Yi and Song Qi followed the flow of people and came to the dining table.
On the dining table this time, there was still a large pot of dry black bread, but it was filled with a pot next to it, no longer water, but a warm soup-it was called the soup and it lifted it up A thin layer of grease floated on the dirty light yellow surface, exuding an unpleasant smell of water, thin and almost dry, the only thing that was valuable was its heat.
Only then did Mo Yi understand why some of the people who were just in front of them just left after taking a meal, and some even took only black bread.
The look on his face remained unchanged, and he bowed his head and filled a bowl of soup, smashed two loaves of bread, followed behind Song Qi, and they both found a place to sit down.
Each player stared at the food in front of him, his face was a bit uneasy, everyone refused to swallow the rough brown bread in his mouth, and some appetite players even pushed the bowl and stopped eating.
However, some veterans obviously seem more relaxed than novices with wrinkled faces. They already have gaming experience and know how to bring food into the copy, but even so, due to the limited number of things they can carry, their food resources are not Considered adequate.
Therefore, they obviously understand the reason that money is not exposed, one by one, chewing bread slowly and slowly, without swaggering out the food.
Mo Yi's face was quiet, she lowered her head and held the brown bread in her hands, thinking about whether she would go back and unpack a pack of compressed biscuits.
However, moisture must be replenished.
Mo Yi knew that because there was fresh water in the copy of the game, even if he carried food, he would rarely think of carrying drinking water-after all, being too heavy and occupying too much land was a fatal flaw.
However, a person can live for three days if he is hungry, and maybe three days if he is thirsty.
Mo Yi thought calmly, holding up the bowl of soup with the temperature remaining, and poured it on his neck.
He put down the bowl, and his face was a little ugly.
The strange, bitter, salty, and sour smell in the mouth, and the greasy feeling of the soup still remained on the tongue. Mo Yi took a deep breath, trying to suppress the nauseous taste in his throat.
After all, he has also been respected and treated for so many years, and even if he can suffer again, it is jerky.
Mo Yi's brow froze, and his stomach suddenly turned over.
Just then, something hard pressed against his soft lips, and was pushed in by a clever force, holding his hard teeth and sliding into his mouth.
The sweet and fragrant fruit scent diffused instantly, overwhelming the strange disgusting taste between the lips.
Mo Yi contained fruit candy, and a cheek bulged from one side, and he looked at him beside him with a bit of dullness.
Song Qi was sitting tightly, peering at his fingertips on his knees, his face line board was resolute, as if the person who had just done that was not himself.
Mo Yi couldn't help bending his eyes and whispered:
"Thanks a lot, sweet."
After speaking, he turned his face, reached out to pick up the dark bread, and continued to stare carefully.
Watching Mo Yi turned his gaze, Song Qi also raised his eyes, a pair of light-colored pupils stared at Mo Yi's side face tightly, and his face was as dark as a secret.
He lifted his finger that had just touched Moi's lips, and the sweet aroma of fruit candy remained on it. The soft, slightly rough touch due to thirst seemed to stay at the fingertips.
Song Qi sent her fingertips to her lips and licked them.
The thin lips evoked a tiny arc in silence.
Yes, it's sweet.
·
The morning was over quickly.
Mo Yi got up from the low bench and walked outside the restaurant with the rest of the players.
According to the timetable, the next class time should be the orphanage.
The crowd followed the dilapidated and broken map and walked through the circular hall toward the depths of a corridor.
Mo Yi followed the team and walked silently, while drawing the general outline of the entire orphanage in his heart: the first corridor, which is also the longest, contains the room where the orphans rest and the bathroom, All players are scattered in rooms one by one.
The second corridor next to it is the shortest with only one room, the dining room for the orphans at the end of the corridor.
The third corridor is lined with a library and a toy room, and the library and classroom are nested together-exactly where they are now heading.
In the fourth corridor, the labels on the map are very dirty and fuzzy, and even damaged. The only thing that can be clearly seen is in the outermost dean's room, and the labels in other places have been completely damaged. Out.
Mo Yi immersed himself in his thoughts, and lowered his head and walked forward.
The fruit candy in his mouth was almost completely gone, so he clicked and chewed and ate the remaining irregular sugar residue. The extremely fruity flavor exploded in the mouth, leaving him to sip gently without leaving any traces. Squinting.
Mo Yi has always been fond of sweets, but he has always been very good at hiding his true preferences and wiping out his mavericks, so as not to expose his weaknesses, so few people know his sweet-loving characteristics.
Since entering the copy, Song Qi has basically given him sweets.
Mo Yi pursed his lips thoughtfully, quickly reviewing his performance after making a copy of himself in the bottom of his heart-making sure that he did not show a clear preference for sweets.
Song Qi himself said that he did not like to eat sweets.
Then why did he eat so many sweets into the copy? Is it for the high calorie and portability of candy?
Seems to make sense ...?
Just then, the march stopped.
Mo Yi blinked, tossed out all kinds of uneasy guesses, and looked up at the front of the team.
They have reached the door of the library at this moment.
The dim corridor is long and zigzag. The hall behind it is flashing a small dim halo in a distant place. The half door in front of it is soaked in the semi-ambiguous darkness. The logo on the door is dropped by a small half and the other half is covered The old dirt can barely see the small print of the "library".
The people at the forefront of the line were a little embarrassed.
After all, the last man was hanged here.
He took a deep breath and turned to look at the many people behind him, bumped his gut, and put his hand on the doorknob.
With just a slight twist, the door opened silently.
Obviously, it was the door left by the man who died yesterday.
The cold and gloomy taste came out, mixed with the smell of old books, and the smell of dust that always exists.
The lights inside were unexpectedly bright, so that everyone's heart could not help but let go, watching everyone in front of them rushing in, Mo Yi's footsteps could not help but pause.
He turned to look at the door closed beside him.
The door lintel is slightly lower than other rooms. The door frame appears rough and skewed, and the workmanship is extremely poor. The color of the door panel is no longer visible. Only on the side of the door, obliquely written with obscure crayon: "Toy room".
This is not the time to go in.
Mo Yi made a last glance on the door without a trace, then turned to follow the team's tail and walked in.
The space in the door is not large. There are two floors. In the deep is the library, where donated books are placed, while the outer room is used for class.
The ground was bare and uncarpeted, and there were several dirty, low benches, and several long tables, empty and thick with dust.
Mo Yi stood by the door, giving a glimpse of the entire interior.
He narrowed his eyes slowly.
Now he finally knew where his disobedience came from.
This room is as small as the restaurant.
In the longest corridor, where all orphans rest, there are twelve rooms in the corridor, six on each side.
There are six beds in a room. In total, this orphanage should be able to accommodate seventy-two children, but ... whether it is a dining room or a classroom, these public houses responsible for the entire population of the orphanage (including carers and children) Occasionally, it has been built to be extremely small and can only accommodate half the number of people.
Even after the orphanage was built, it did not contain enough people, and it should not be so narrow when planning the construction.
This is counterintuitive.
Mo Yi took a deep breath and kept this question in his heart.
He turned to look at Song Qi next to him, and was about to tell him about his experience last night, but only saw Song Qi open his mouth first:
"Let's break up for clues."
His voice was especially clear in the quiet room. Several other players heard the words and looked up at him, nodding in response.
Mo Yi's eyes darkened, and he swallowed the words that were not exported.
How did he feel ... Song Qi was deliberately avoiding the topic he wanted to say?
But last night, apart from himself, there should be no second person to know.
Is this an illusion?
Mo Yi gave a deep glance at Song Qi, then turned and walked indoors, determined to explore the place during this morning.
He took the lead in the library.
Generally speaking, where there is documentation, it is most likely to be of value.
The library is relatively narrow compared to the classroom. The uneven floor and crooked walls almost make people worry about the danger of sudden collapse.
The whole room was quite dark, almost hard to see, the walls and floor were bare, and even the dirty wallpaper and the shabby rugs were not available. Mo Yi can almost assert that this is the humblest room in the entire orphanage. Already.
In this small room, two low bookshelves were placed crookedly, with some papers and books cluttered on it, exuding the smell of old pages.
Mo Yi turned on the portable flashlight, and a little halo of light instantly illuminated that small area.
He leaned forward, reached out and picked up a pile of worn paper on the top, and shook it gently.
The thick dust rose instantly and fluttered chaotically under the flashlight's beam. Mo Yi could not help but cough a few times, stimulated by this amazing amount of dust, and then slowed down.
The dust covering the pages of the book was brushed off, revealing the obscure writings eroded by the ages.
Most of them have been broken by insects, and the handwriting left on them has become extremely illegible due to improper preservation. Most of the paper and books here are clueless.
Mo Yi was not discouraged, instead he became more focused.
Generally speaking, how obscure and valuable these texts are, it proves the value of those texts that have not been destroyed.
Finally, he flipped through one of the books.
It was a thin piece of paper, which was randomly sandwiched in the book as a bookmark. It was yellow and brittle, and almost transparent under the light of a flashlight.
Mo Yi held her breath, stretched out her hand, pinched the edge of the paper with her slender or even thin fingers, and lifted it up.
On that piece of paper, a hanging villain was drawn with poor handwriting.
On the bottom and the top of the note, a few crayons are written in color crayons, which are confusing.
All the handwriting above is old, dusty and dirty, and even a few greasy handprints. It's completely different from the note on each of them-all the crayon marks on those notes are brand new, as if just written.
Mo Yi was full of light in her eyes, and her pale face was excited with a little redness.
Now, the game is what he is familiar with.
What he needed to do was find another piece of paper corresponding to it, with a gallows painted on it.
Mo Yi carefully put the piece of paper back into the book, picked it up, picked it up and clamped it under his arm, and continued to flip through the old dusty pile of paper, looking for more clues.
He couldn't find the pair of gallows, but he found another interesting clue.
It was an old newspaper, it was worn out and yellow, and it fell dusty between two bookshelves. Perhaps it was a naughty orphanage child ’s pen. It was folded into the shape of a thousand paper cranes, downcast. Lie on a cold, dirty floor.
Mo Yi crouched down and picked it up, then carefully opened it.
However, even if his movements are more cautious, they can not withstand the long years experienced by the newspaper Qian Zhihe, which inevitably broke into pieces during the process of disassembling.
Mo Yi frowned a little annoyed, trying to put the old newspaper back to its original shape along the crease.
To be precise, this is not a newspaper in the complete sense, but a fragment cut from a newspaper, the edges are not neat, and some pictures and printing are not completely cut.
On the most complete piece is a bold black headline: "The director of the Iris Municipal Orphanage was divided by the hang."
Below is a picture of the size of the tofu block.
On a black-and-white blurred picture, a tall woman in a black suit is holding her hand next to the newly-built orphanage. Several black ink blocks constitute her fuzzy features, staring blankly outside the newspaper. The person staring at her.
Mo Yi's back couldn't help but sweat suddenly.
I don't know whether it was out of fear or excitement that gradually filled with the truth.
His breathing was quick, and he narrowed his eyes to try to identify the remaining characters-but there might be some tide in the ground, and he stopped here in the newspaper for many years, except for the larger headline. The moisture is blurred, the ink and ink are connected together, and the original glyph cannot be distinguished.
Mo Yi was a bit lost. He thought about it, and still stuck the broken old newspaper in the same book, and then stuffed it into the outer bag of his backpack.
He stood up, looked around the room again for a week, determined that he had basically examined all the large and small, or obvious or hidden corners, and turned to leave the library.
Just after going out, Mo Yi had a meeting with Song Qi.
Mo Yi's gaze turned around in the whole room: now the other players are basically scattered, and no one pays attention to the movement here.
It's a good opportunity to talk about your experience last night.
Mo Yi's mind turned into electricity. The next second, he lifted his eyes and sung Song Qi to show a polite smile-and then turned his side to make way for the library.
The two passed by.
Mo Yi turned his back to Song Qi, and the radian of his mouth gradually converged.
There were no emotions in a pair of dark eyes, and they seemed a little indifferent for a moment.
His trust has always been rampant.
In the crisis-ridden copy, there should be one more eye.
Mo Yi converged and looked up at this humble classroom.
It is larger than the library area and not so shabby. The dark green wallpaper just like the corridor is randomly and scribbled on the wall. The edges are broken and the color is dark. Only some hard-to-reach corners maintain the original color.
The benches and long tables are rough in construction and are extremely scattered on the ground.
Just then, Sun Xiaoyan, who stood at the end of the room, suddenly said, "I ... I seem to have found something here."
Mo Yi frowned slightly, then walked up with his legs.
The other players in the room also gathered in the direction of Sun Xiaoyan. After a while, they were all around one of the long tables.
Sun Xiaoyan pointed out his finger, pointed to the corner of the table, and said, "You see here, although these scratches are old, they are still very clear."
I saw a few lines of crooked writing on the edge of the long table:
"Underyourbones
beneathyourskin
I \ 'mherewiththee
foreverandever "
This straightforward little poem is obviously from the children, and even people with poor English can easily understand it.
Poor handwriting and rough scores reveal a little creepy and strange paranoia between the lines, making everyone at the scene can not help but be cold.
Mo Yi frowned, examining a few lines of small print, and suddenly frowned.
If you look at the pathological content of this poem--
under ...
beneath ...
These few poems are obviously a hint of direction!
What direction does it suggest?
The answer is almost ready.
Mo Yi's heart leaped violently, and blood rushed to his face almost instantaneously. He took a very low breath and then jumped up suddenly.
The people around him couldn't help but be startled by him, and then looked at him aggressively and rushed to the table.
Mo Yi was a short man, almost lying on the ground, his fingers fumbled carefully on the rough surface behind the table. It was not enough to touch the table, and he searched for something under the bench.
Then he gave his hand a pause, carefully stopped, and then slowly and gently lifted something.
The crowd held their breaths, watching Mo Yi drag a yellowish, brittle note with both hands, and then slowly stood upright.
He put the note on the table.
A gallows was drawn on the paper with rough writing, and under the gallows was written a series of irregularly spaced, messy letters.
Mo Yi's eyes grew brighter. He reached out to open his backpack, took the book out, and carefully pulled out the almost the same size slip of paper between the books.
Immediately afterwards, he superimposed two pieces of paper together.
With a click, he turned on the flashlight, and the bright beam of light hit from the bottom to the top, translucently shining two equally thin, crisp paper.
Mo Yi carefully moved the relative position of the two pieces of paper, so that the gallows and the hanged villain slowly overlapped together.
The seemingly disorganized English letters below the two pictures are superimposed together to form a complete sentence:
"Lasciateognesperanza, voich \ 'intrate"
Mo Yi pursed her lips and stared at the two sheets of paper with a sullen expression, her eyes dangling and wondering what she was thinking.
The people standing beside Mo Yi were stunned by his continuous movement of clouds and clouds. At this moment, when he suddenly stopped, he couldn't help but urgently asked:
"What's wrong? What did you find?"
Mo Yi seemed startled, raised some blank eyes, and stopped for a long time to find his voice:
"This sentence means that those who are about to step into this place, give up all hope."
He paused, flashing a strange color in his dark eyes:
"From Dante's Divine Comedy, INFERNO II, he saw it before entering Hell, and the words written on the gate of Hell."
—
The entire library and classroom were almost turned upside down by players.
However, no clue was found except for a few weird little poems and a line of meaningless words.
It ended without illness all morning, but at least there were no casualties.
This proves that Mo Yi's reasoning is correct.
The entire copy has a long time, small number of people, and the difficulty itself is not large. The only difficulty is finding the timetable and discovering the relationship between the timetable and casualties.
So basically, the way you want to live through this copy becomes particularly simple-that is to follow the rules and live through the prescribed time.
After the prescribed lunch break, it was free time. Mo Yi stepped out of the door on time and walked out of the corridor.
His afterglow gazed towards the rooms on both sides of the corridor subconsciously: most of them were still in the room, and they seemed to have completely given up on their free time to continue exploring. This is understandable after all--
If you can enjoy it, why bother?
Not to mention, wandering around in the copy is a very dangerous thing.
Mo Yi retracted his gaze, and walked forward without hesitation.
His destination was clear: the closed toy house.
Mo Yi stopped in front of the door through the empty circular hall and the long and dark corridor.
He searched the bunch of keys, but there was no dollhouse on it, so now he can only try.
Mo Yi lowered her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly, covering her dark eyes.
He took a deep breath, put his palm on the doorknob, and the cold, firm touch came from under his palm.
With a little force, Mo Yi opened the door silently, and opened it smoothly and silently, as if inviting him into the room—
It's dark inside.
A large patch of darkness spread, eroding the faint lights in the corridor, deep and dark like the abyss, quietly waiting for the arrival of the next victim.
Mo Yi looked dull and turned on the flashlight.
Then walked in.
There was hardly any light in it, black fingers reached out, and only the flashlight in Mo Yi's hand was able to dissipate a little darkness.
He turned around and walked aimlessly around the room with a flashlight.
Unfortunately, the light beam of the flashlight is too narrow and can only illuminate a small arc range. There is almost no way to dispel the suffocating darkness that is deep in the room like a solid body.
Mo Yi took a deep breath and took a few steps inward.
Stepped on something soft.
He jumped at the bottom of his heart, and looked down at the flashlight, and saw a dirty gray rabbit lying on the bottom of his feet, his broken belly exposing gray flocculent cotton, and a pair of dark eyes staring straight at him.
Mo Yi's heart tightened inexplicably, he moved away, but the other foot kicked something, and a crisp crackling came from the darkness.
The round lights illuminated the past.
It was a few pieces of broken bricks, scattered on the uneven ground in a mess, looking pitiful.
Mo Yi had a great deal of uneasiness in his mind.
He bypassed the bunny and the bricks in the ground, and continued to take a few steps. The light from the flashlight hit the wall, illuminating the rolled white paper in a corner.
Mo Yi walked a few steps in doubt.
The light of the flashlight looks a little dim in the dark, but still can barely play the role of lighting.
There is a picture on the wall.
Red and black crayon marks are carelessly intertwined on the surface of the paper. The lines are childish and simple. Looking closely, there are several stickmen standing together, one of them is near the door and the others are together.
Mo Yi was a little at a loss, the light from the flashlight was on the side, and he saw half a corner of a piece of paper.
He took a step to the side, and another painting was revealed.
One stickman was hanging from the beam, and another stickman was standing on a crooked chair, and stretched out his hand around the hanging villain's neck, looking like a strange hug.
Mo Yi was shocked.
He knew what those paintings were.
This is ... what he has experienced since the beginning of the copy.
Mo Yi's heart throbbed, annoyingly, and he moved his dry throat, and continued to take a step to the side.
The third painting is a group of people sitting in the dining room.
The fourth painting is the second hanged man.
The fifth painting is a man lying on a bed, squatting next to a child, holding his hand down.
This is him last night.
Mo Yi held his flashlight, his fingers were tense, and his knuckles were subconsciously forced to look a little white. He fixed himself and continued to move to the side.
The sixth painting, depicts a person.
I saw him standing beside a wall in a small room, holding a flashlight, and carefully looking at the six pictures on the wall on one side.
And behind that man stood a small child, staring at him quietly.
※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※
Dawn threw a mine
Throwing time: 2018-08-0910: 03: 35
A white mine threw a mine
Throwing time: 2018-08-0910: 22: 13
蜉蝣 threw a mine
Throwing time: 2018-08-0913: 14: 36
krank threw a grenade
Throwing time: 2018-08-1012: 26: 48
Mengall threw 1 mine in his life
Throwing time: 2018-08-1109: 16: 59
Missed and threw 1 mine
Throwing time: 2018-08-1109: 18: 17
Thank you little cutie ~
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