Infinite Peculiar Games

He has an air of keeping everyone at arm’s length, but was completely unguarded in the details?

Qi Si raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity glimmering in his eyes.

Chang Xu spoke calmly: “This is a reward I obtained for perfecting my first instance.”

It seemed that certain items could be obtained within instances and carried over to others.

Qi Si fiddled with the 【Destiny Timepiece】 in his hand, smiling with curved eyes. “I’m envious. A time-related item, quite fitting for this instance.”

Chang Xu did not engage further. Two seconds later, he extended his hand indifferently. “Give it back.”

Qi Si could only comply, returning the pocket watch to Chang Xu, which had barely warmed in his hand.

Just from the name, it sounded like a valuable item. He wanted it badly, but… Chang Xu looked formidable.

Though he did not seem very vigilant, as an experienced player, he certainly would not be foolish enough to let his items be easily stolen.

As if sensing Qi Si’s covetous gaze, Chang Xu looked down at Qi Si’s right hand. “If I’m not mistaken, what you’re wearing on your right hand is a weapon-type prop, which is rarer and more practical in the early stages.”

“Is that so?” Qi Si smiled politely and continued, “You have a keen eye, Brother Chang.” He could see the hidden functionality of the bracelet at a glance.
ITALICS

To Chang Xu, this sounded like a confirmation that he could identify the presence of a prop with one look.

He did not suspect anything, nodding slightly before descending the stairs.

Watching Chang Xu’s back disappear down the stairs, Qi Si’s smile faded.

The bracelet on his right hand was custom-made in the real world, so it could not be related to the Peculiar Games. Why did Chang Xu think it was an item? Could it be…

Qi Si recalled that since entering the instance, other than him, no other player had carried weapons.

Initially, he thought the players were cautious like him and preferred to keep their weapons hidden. Now that he thought about it, he realised there might be another possibility: weapons and electronic devices from the real world could not be brought into the game.

Typically, only props obtained within an instance could be brought in.

So, what’s the deal with my bracelet? Is there a bug in the game?

Qi Si pondered numerous possibilities, but now was not the time for such questions—making assumptions with insufficient information would be merely presumptive and a waste of time.

He glanced at Ye beside him, smiling politely. “Chang Xu’s suspicion has been somewhat lessened. Now, it’s your turn to answer me: Ye, why are you so sure Shen Ming wouldn’t die? Do you know something?”

Ye crossed her arms and sneered. “How can you prove you and Chang Xu aren’t in cahoots? You deliberately sang a duet just now, probably trying to clear his suspicion and divert it onto me.”

A clear attempt at deflecting accusations. Qi Si tilted his head, smiling sincerely. “Oh, you caught onto that, huh? Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted, but what can you do about it?”

At this moment, he had made his judgement: Ye and Shen Ming probably knew each other in real life.

Their initial self-introductions—pretending not to know each other—were likely just to gain control of the conversation and mislead other players.

Unfortunately, before their plan could be fully executed, Shen Ming died.

Observing Qi Si’s expression and tone, Ye knew this young man was not easily deceived. So, she pursed her lips and said no more.

Information is the foundation of the game. In zero-sum games, any statement could be a lie, and any fact could be intentionally hidden.

Lying is understandable; being caught just means one is less skilled, nothing to be ashamed of.

It was getting late, and the players began to gather around the long table on the first floor, taking their seats one by one.

Even the terrified Lin Chen came down before the clock struck again, trembling as he obediently followed the rules displayed on the system interface.

The absence of Shen Ming drained the atmosphere of the previous evening’s liveliness. Ye’s gaze occasionally swept over the empty seat, and Lin Chen soon realised what had happened, pressing his lips tightly and saying nothing.

The death of the most experienced player among them was undoubtedly a bad omen. The growing suspicions among the players were an even worse sign.

In the midst of this sombre mood, the mechanical clock in the corner clumsily struck six times.

Miss Anna, dressed in a black gown, emerged from the shadows, accompanied by her mannequin-like butler.

The tall, ghostly woman gracefully walked to the main seat, elegantly took her place, and surveyed the others with a smile, her gaze licking over them like wet and decayed palm leaves after rain.

As the butler pushed the food cart to arrange the dining table, her gaze lingered on Shen Ming’s empty seat before she covered her mouth and smiled. “My lovely guests, I hope you had a pleasant night.”

Her voice was warm and inviting, like the usual pleasantries spoken by hospitable hosts. But considering recent events, it was full of schadenfreude*.

Qi Si surprisingly spoke up: “Indeed, it was quite pleasant. Thank you for your hospitality. However, may I be so bold as to ask you a few questions?”

The other players were momentarily stunned, then perked up their ears, listening intently.

In the silence, Miss Anna nodded in acknowledgement.

Qi Si asked directly, “Miss Anna, you are fond of roses, right?”

“Yes, roses. I like roses,” Miss Anna repeated with a smile. “The most beautiful things in the world are roses…”

“You like blooming roses and dislike withered ones, right?”

Miss Anna’s smile carried specks of sorrow. “Yes, when roses wither, they are no longer beautiful… I adore beauty and loathe ugliness…”

“You once had a beautiful older or younger sister, right?”

“Yes, I once had…” Miss Anna began, but abruptly cut off her remaining words as if strangled by an invisible force.

Her expression turned panic-stricken, like a creature of the shadows suddenly exposed to sunlight, filled with confusion and resentment, muttering unintelligible words.

NPCs do not lie to players, but can they choose not to answer?

Qi Si knew he could not pursue this line of questioning any further.

If he triggered some special event, he was not sure if the others would die, but he was certain he would not survive.

The castle’s breakfast was relatively simple, consisting of wheat bread, wine, and apples—a far cry from the players’ tastes.

Already burdened by the weight of Shen Ming’s death and the emerging web of suspicion weaving among the players, the atmosphere grew increasingly suffocating. To add to their discomfort, Qi Si’s probing questions left Miss Anna with a disquieting expression, making it hard for the players to eat.

Qi Si was never picky about food; even in the instance where the breakfast might not suit his taste, it was still better than the haphazard meals he prepared in real life.

He cut the bread into small pieces with his fork and knife, chewing slowly and occasionally sipping from his wine glass, seemingly at ease.

Across from him, Chang Xu was also eating meticulously, his mouth busy like a hamster’s, perhaps genuinely enjoying the taste of the manor’s breakfast.

The behaviour of the two undeniably encouraged the others, prompting them to pick up their utensils and start eating.

Finishing his own breakfast, Qi Si wiped his mouth with a napkin, discreetly tucking it into his pocket.

He casually grabbed an apple, muttered an apology, then stood up and headed towards the stairs, pausing at the edge of the shadows to signal to Lin Chen with a glance.

Lin Chen, already on edge, saw Qi Si’s urging look and, despite his hesitation, eventually followed.

Qi Si walked ahead in silence, ascending to the second floor and stopping in front of the massive mechanical clock.

Presuming that those downstairs could not hear him speak, he turned to look into Lin Chen’s eyes and spoke in a low voice, “There’s something I forgot to tell you. The Peculiar Games has a protective mechanism: after a certain number of players die, the remaining players can pass the instance safely and receive more rewards.”

He relayed Ye’s information once again, then sighed softly. “I suspect that among the five of us, someone will attempt to harm the others.”

(End of Chapter)

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*TL’s note: Schadenfreude is a German word that combines Schaden, which means “damage,” and Freude, which means “joy”, representing pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune.

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