Chapter 38 Ouroboros Eats Eats

Xiaoming's advice was blocked by tinnitus; you were so focused on holding your breath that just one glance plunged you into a nightmare.

The corridor... is twisting.

The entire space folds in sections in a way that completely defies common sense.

Every corner, every section of floorboards was forcibly compressed, creaking and cracking, like origami folded into impossible angles, locked in, conflicting.

Some parts of the corridor are compressed into tiny crevices, while others are stretched into eerie long corridors. You can even see picture frames on the walls twisted into vortexes, spinning and disappearing into themselves, or being swallowed up by the corridor itself.

The lights flicker erratically amidst these bizarre distortions, with blinding light and sudden shadows intertwining, leaving you wondering if you exist or have entered some kind of absurd visual artwork.

Your mind is bathed in the white light of the fluorescent lamp. Shock, confusion, and a faint fear mingle together, your emotions tearing apart and then quickly mending back together.

Your eyes can't leave that eerie sight.

Not folding, you think to yourself. It's—overlapping, and then releasing, to form an endless loop of tracks.

You can't help but reach out, your whole body almost pressed against the door, your fingertips trembling slightly, an irresistible urge to get closer and see more clearly—no, no, you're doing it to maintain your balance.

No, no, just one more look and you'll discover the true nature hidden behind the cruise ship.

But just as your eyes become increasingly focused on the subtle changes in the thickness of your cornea, the changes in the corridor suddenly become rapid and violent. Each section of the corridor collapses like a twisted spiral, forming layer upon layer of intersecting space.

Hiss—hiss—hiss—

A buzzing sound accompanied by tinnitus resonates in your brain, your vision begins to blur and rise, and your consciousness seems to slowly detach from your body.

You've grasped the truth behind folding and overlapping—it's force, a field, a fierce attack from something unseen and intangible, capable of devouring the corridor and dragging your gaze into it.

The light in the corridor shouldn't be this bright. You are suddenly jolted; this surreal perspective sends a chill down your spine, and your thoughts momentarily detach.

Memories of the dinner party flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern: the pupils of the clones, you and you and you in the pupils, symmetry, eating, devouring, eating, eating heartily.

You've finished eating, and you're still here, you're all still here, looking through your eyes together, you, you—

—For you, to devour yourself, you must first have a clone. But perhaps for some beings, a single entity is enough to swallow them whole.

Bit, tail, snake.

As if in response to your sudden inspiration, the corridor trembled violently. Is another storm brewing? Well, at least this will move you away from this doorway—hehe, you do know you're in a precarious situation, don't you?

But your feet are firmly planted on the floor.

It turns out that it was your field of vision that was trembling, not the external environment.

Your eyes dart around uncontrollably, like a shaking die, and finally, after stabilizing, slowly twist inward. They keep twisting until you stop focusing on the outside world and start focusing on yourself.

Everything became so narrow.

You feel like you're riding in a small car on a roller coaster, gurgling forward through chunks of bloody flesh and pulsating tubes.

The pipes intertwined, their pulse-like pulsation echoing in your ears, and your consciousness floated within the crisscrossing passages.

It grew darker and darker until finally it lit up.

There is a vague, blurry shadow. Your gaze gradually focuses, and you calmly see—it is yourself.

You see yourself comfortably holding Xiaoming's arm, holding a martini.

A sea breeze blows in your face, sunlight shines through a wisp of cloud onto the sea, people around you stroll leisurely on the deck, and you are smiling as you lean against the railing, gazing at the distant horizon, chatting and laughing with Xiaoming.

The sunlight cast a soft glow evenly on your face. Even you, the one who has been watching all along, closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and felt the faint saltiness and coolness in the air.

Xiaoming is a good listener, so you kept talking, your mouth opening and closing.

Then, your gaze once again enters the familiar, dark red pipe, where the fleshy walls slowly compress, the oppressive feeling almost suffocating you.

As you navigate through these physiological structures, the tubes seem to contract as if they were alive, and you pop out once again. This time, you find yourself by the swimming pool on the cruise ship.

The water shimmered under the lights. You were wearing a swimsuit, walking slowly on the warm stone floor, your toes touching the water's surface. You shivered before gently sliding into the water.

Water splashed up, creating ripples in the pool.

At this time, there were very few people in the pool, with only a few passengers floating quietly on the side.

You swim leisurely, the gentle waves supporting you, your whole body enveloped in tranquility.

The pool has a built-in massage bubble pool. If you're not careful, some of the water swirling up and splashing onto your face will cause you to involuntarily open your mouth and cough a few times.

So, you went back to the same old place.

You experience luxurious comforts time and time again in the facilities of the cruise ship, feeling both like an observer and a participant.

These scenes seem somewhat familiar, yet your thoughts are a little hazy. You're probably jumping through time, but you don't know where you'll land or what the ending will be.

Everything before your eyes gradually becomes abstract into unrecognizable blocks of color and light and shadow, but at the same time, your bodily perception remains exceptionally clear.

A pair of warm, though not exactly soft, hands gently pressed on my shoulders. The touch was slightly gentle yet firm, professionally and precisely exploring every inch of my muscles.

It was as if there was a membrane between my ears, and I could hear the gentle sound of flowing water, like a stream flowing between the rocks. This was a rare rhythm that could soothe my nerves, and even the buzzing in my head subsided a bit.

You half-close your eyes and gradually feel the surrounding environment begin to change.

It smells like a spa!

It's a spice that initially smells a bit pungent, but upon closer inspection, reveals a rich, sweet base note. The fragrance permeates the air, gently enveloping your senses and gradually drawing you into a deeper state of peace.

Turkish aromatherapy oils—yes, you recognize that scent. This afternoon, you remember it was the very aroma that filled the spa, so relaxing and soothing.

Once you understand your location, you'll have a clearer sense of those hands slowly and powerfully sliding down your neck, the warmth of their palms leaving a gentle touch on your skin.

One, two, three... five fingers press on your shoulder blades, each fingertip touching a key fascia point, with a slight pressure, kneading and kneading, kneading the fatigue out from the depths of stiff muscles.

A layer of skin, a layer of fat, a layer of muscle—all these tissues attached to the bone—were peeled away with the other person's fingers, and then smoothed out layer by layer.

Then slowly move your palms to your back and press down along your spine, vertebra by vertebra.

Your bones make a clicking sound, dislocating, restoring, progressing step by step—unfortunately, you are a human. If you were a snake, or any creature that could move your spine freely and flexibly in a wave-like motion, you would comfortably stack them to the extreme, and then loosen them up again.

Then, things started to go a little wrong.

The masseuse's hands were ridiculously large; her fingertips were gently pressing on my waist, and her palms were still on the center of my back.

But none of that matters. What matters is that they provide you with excellent service. You paid money to be here and enjoy yourself.

The technicians here are indeed very professional. Their large, broad hands, covered in sticky, oily essential oils, can squeeze out all the fatigue and heaviness from your body.

Your body becomes supple again, just as it should be in the beginning, before life has been worn down by experiences.

tasty.

Just as you are completely immersed in the atmosphere, your gaze is drawn to a glimmer of light.

At first glance, a circular sculpture stands quietly in the center of the spa room.

It's smooth as a mirror, its ring gleaming with a soft light. You can't see the details clearly, so you instinctively reach out to the ring, wanting to grasp it.

You watch your hand reach forward, the sculpture getting closer and closer, but just as your fingers are about to touch the surface of the ring, your body is stopped by an invisible force.

Your hand froze in mid-air, trapped behind an invisible barrier, unable to cross that short distance no matter what you did. You frowned, staring in confusion at the ring of light before you.

It's so close, within reach, yet it leaves you feeling utterly powerless.

A thought flashed through my mind—you didn't actually "come out" at all!

You are not in the spa room, you are actually still inside your own body!

It's only because your skin is stretched and translucent by your adult body that you can see the outside world through your skin, which is why everything inside the room is so blurry.

Who says the soul is free when consciousness is traveling?

Snake with its tail in its mouth.

In your mind, you've always been using your eyes to guide your head, opening your mouth wide, swallowing yourself, then coming out, and then swallowing yourself again.

Once you realize this, you feel a strong urge—you don't care if it's your own urge—right, Xiaoming said…trust your intuition…—to break through the barrier in front of you.

Take a deep breath, and instead of relaxing your hands, open them and then curl them into claws, using all your strength to insert your fingertips into the thin skin.

As you continue to apply pressure, you feel a slight pain as your knuckles touch the barrier, and your stomach also aches, but the relaxation from the massage offsets this.

As you gradually increase your strength, the feeling of constriction enveloping you gradually concentrates at your fingertips, and you can faintly hear a sound that makes your teeth ache.

The belly is soft, so the sound is a dull groan; but from somewhere, a crackling sound continues to come, but you don't feel any pain, so you ignore it.

With a little more effort, it will be done soon.

Sizzle!

Your hand suddenly pierced through your belly and instantly touched the circular sculpture.

This is a snake; its cold, smooth surface is actually made up of rows of delicate scales.

Your gaze passes through the ring, your body emerges from it, your perspective begins to reverse and travel back, light and shadow, like shattered lenses, shimmer and overflow with color before your eyes.

The scenes keep changing, but time and space are reversed.

Finally, the surrounding light gradually faded, your eyes returned to their normal sockets, you blinked, and gradually returned to the perception of reality.

You succeeded.

In the endless void, the ouroboros bites its own tail, eternally coiling into a closed circle.

It is time, it is space, it is philosophy, it is definition. And you are a three-dimensional being.

It is an entity that cannot transcend dimensions.

Without a clone, you can't consume yourself; you either have to use your thoughts as a vehicle. To create a cycle, you have to cut time and flash back in your memory. If you can't touch the boundary, you can't see the exit.

Therefore, if the rules exist beyond you, they have no meaning for you.

Therefore, an exit must exist; it must be something you can see and touch. You just need an opportunity—an opportunity within the rules or hidden rules—to find it.

We found it, that statue, and then what?

--Hole.

As long as you hold onto the tail, you'll definitely make a hole.

It exists outside the cycle, yet is generated by it. If it's not the exit, then what is?

You were drenched in cold sweat, and the air around you still seemed damp and chilly. The storm was howling outside, but the cruise ship was only rocking slightly.

Everything is back to normal.

Only a sharp, intense pain, as if struck by a heavy blow, and fragments of memories and cognition flooding into the mind like a tidal wave, are unbearable.

You look down at your trembling hands and realize that you are holding something tightly—the ouroboros sculpture.

With a fulcrum, memories no longer process information aimlessly in the brain.

After sorting it out again and again, some details finally became clear.

"The signal hasn't been restored yet, but it should be safe for now." Xiao Ming had squatted down beside you without you noticing, silently watching you.

Her eyes held worry, and a barely perceptible wariness.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

You always ask each other these kinds of questions to make sure each other is safe, but this time, you can hear a special meaning in her tone besides concern.

Xiaoming finally asked, "What did you see? You seemed a little off just now." You know, when Xiaoming hesitates to speak, the corner of her right lip twitches slightly.

There was nothing to hide, so you told the whole story, interspersed with your own thoughts.

When you're lost in thought, your ideas tend to be fragmented and disorganized, but once you speak them aloud, they immediately coalesce into more logically coherent conclusions. This is probably the effect of a conversation: you become more confident and excited as you tell Xiaoming that you've found the secret to surviving on a cruise ship, and you just need to try it tomorrow.

Xiao Ming looks at you, occasionally revealing a faint smile of approval.

“You’re right,” she said, though her words had nothing to do with what you had just said. “The sailors patrol at night; they’re probably the ones creating danger in the corridors. We’d better stay in our rooms; as long as we don’t get hurt by the storm, the night is safe.”

What?

You were confused, and you continued to talk about the signs of the cannibalism in the corridor, and your speculations that you were inside the ouroboros. She just patted your head a little strangely: "Are you scared? Why are you repeating these things? I said, I know, I agree with what you said."

You fell silent, realizing something was wrong: Xiaoming's alertness had vanished, just as her earlier suspicion of your state had been merely your imagination.

You casually lifted the sculpture in your hand, as if stretching lazily. The ouroboros swept across Xiaoming's face, and she didn't even blink.

“I’ve noticed it too. Come, come with me.” She naturally took your free hand, but ignored the sculpture.

"Xiao Ming..." You wanted to try some more, but your voice had been hoarse since you started vomiting. As soon as you spoke, Xiao Ming acted as if he hadn't heard you at all. He opened the wardrobe in the room and gently tapped the space inside with his finger.

“Look, I found this.” Xiao Ming’s tone was calm, but with an air of certainty. “I didn’t notice it during the day, but now I realize that the wardrobe is quite spacious inside, enough for the two of us to hide in. And look, the wardrobe is very sturdy, and the doors show no signs of loosening. No matter how strong the storm is, as long as we don’t capsize, we can hide inside without worrying about any danger.”

You paused for a moment, your gaze following her finger until it landed inside the wardrobe.

Indeed, the wardrobe's interior is spacious, and the thickness of the doors gives a sense of security. More importantly, the wardrobe exudes a slightly aged yet warm woody scent, like a VIP sunroom, without that lingering fishy smell.

However, the aftershocks of that scene still echo in your mind.

You believe you've uncovered the truth, and what you've seen must be the truth. And the truth is supposed to help you survive? But now, Xiaoming is convinced this is a safe haven based solely on a wardrobe door?

"Xiaoming, you..." you tentatively began, reiterating everything you had just experienced.

Unlike before when he seemed not to hear, this time, Xiaoming prevented you from saying anything at all.

She turned around, took your hand, and said with a hint of excitement, "An experienced person's intuition is very useful. The rules clearly state that going out at night is prohibited, which means what happens outside is none of our business. Storms and noises are just scare tactics. Why not just hide?"

As you stare at her confident expression, two voices are arguing in your head.

Xiaoming's logic seems simple, even somewhat crude, and following her line of thought does indeed align with her interpretation of the rules. The bizarre scenes you just experienced, on the other hand, seem more like you've fallen into a trap.

How could that be?

"Is it really that easy to solve?" you questioned. You couldn't come up with a reason to refute it, and since your words wouldn't reach her ears anyway, you could only ask repeatedly with a hint of uncertainty.

"Of course it's solved," Xiaoming answered without hesitation, his tone slightly amused, as if he thought your question was completely unnecessary.

"The rules are clear: as long as we stay in our own space and don't go out and explore recklessly, we'll be fine. Don't you think those voices and those so-called 'phenomena' are all meant to lure us out?"

You pursed your lips and didn't answer.

Okay, you think Xiaoming's explanation makes a lot of sense.

There's more than one way to pass the test. Thinking this way, you relax and easily accept Xiaoming's idea.

As for this statue and your experiences, well, perhaps they will become a unique benefit to you in the future? Only when you look outward may this be your opportunity.

You quickly accepted the fact, tried out the space in the wardrobe with Xiaoming, then knocked on the wall, communicated with Xiaofang and the others over there, and then fell into a deep sleep.

You wake up to the clanging and banging of repairs, disturbed by a few things that are neither nightmares nor pleasant dreams.

Where's the sculpture? You reach out to touch it, and thankfully, it's still lying in your arms, unharmed.

Holding the sculpture firmly in your hand, you finally have time to examine the room. After a night, the room hasn't automatically returned to normal; it seems you'll have to wait for repairmen and housekeeping staff to come and renovate and clean it.

This also shows that the storm's appearance was "natural," and not entirely a supernatural event in the instance. Thinking about it this way, Xiaoming's suggestion yesterday to hide in a safe cabinet was indeed a very reasonable solution.

Thinking of Xiaoming, she was no longer in the house; she wondered what she had gone out to do.

You casually threw on a coat, pushed open the door, and walked out of the room.

Traces of last night's storm and internal self-destruction can still be seen in the corridor, and some corners of the walls even show a slight sense of distortion.

All of this is now being covered up by orderly repair work.

Ah, there's Xiaoming over there.

Just a few steps away, she was chatting with several sailors carrying toolboxes in the repair corridor. She had a smile on her face and looked relaxed and at ease.

Seeing you walk out, Xiaoming waved to you and was about to walk towards you. But you didn't rush to talk to her. Instead, you walked straight towards the busy sailors, with a thoughtful expression on your face.

Even though you can't convey your thoughts and ideas to Xiaoming, you still firmly believe you're right. Since that's the case, you certainly can't give up and give it a try.

You politely took out a few bills from your pocket and handed them to one of the repairmen, whose hands were covered in grease. She looked up, glanced at you with some surprise, then smiled gratefully and accepted the tip.

You then distribute tips to each repairman and the off-duty staff who are wiping the floor or chatting. Their previously tired expressions immediately lighten, and some even nod slightly at you, their lifeless faces regaining their vitality.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, one of the older repairmen suddenly lowered his voice and said mysteriously, "Thank you for your generosity, ma'am. Here's a piece of advice—as long as the lights are on at night, you'll be fine."

You weren't surprised, but you still feigned surprise, stopped, and turned to look at her: "The light's on?"

The repairman nodded and repeated earnestly, "Yes, as long as the light is on, nothing will happen. You understand what I mean?"

"Thank you, I understand." You nodded and responded softly, then quickly walked towards Xiaoming.

Yes, that's your guess. It's funny, but it actually worked.

—Since the start of this instance, throughout your journey in South Gull, you have been constantly giving tips and have quickly noticed the different attitudes of the staff before and after.

Xiaoming's purpose in giving tips was purely based on the basic rule that monthly spending must exceed 10,000 pounds. In addition, her real-life travel experience gave her the idea that "people in South Gull countries have a greater need for tips than in other Gull countries," so she did it.

It's only when you're with her that you guys remember to give her a small tip.

Recalling the events of last night, the sculpture in my hands grew slightly warm. It was clearly a flashback to the future, and the reason that brought it all to an end was this sculpture.

The reason you'll be able to get the sculpture is primarily because you'll be stepping into the spa in the future.

Going back further, the reason was the butler's special "recommendation" when you checked in.

Why did only you and Xiaoming receive this special notification, while Xiaofang and Xiaola's suites didn't have any similar arrangements?

Yes, tips.

You vividly remember the subtle changes in the expressions of the butlers or waiters every time a tip fell into their hands.

Xiao Ming clearly noticed your tipping gesture and even joked with you, "Is this how a wise person gives tips?"

You shook your head, opened the door, handed a tip to the waiter who was about to come in and clean your suite, and told Xiaoming what had just happened.

After listening, Xiaoming fell into a brief moment of contemplation, then nodded: "That makes sense. As for the lighting, I also noticed last night that the lighting seemed to stabilize the atmosphere in the room. The lighting may be related to some system on the cruise ship; keeping it on is indeed a simple but effective method."

Good morning.

Xiao Fang suddenly patted your shoulder and popped out from behind you with a grin.

"How did you all sleep? I was so tired last night, but I slept really well," Xiao Fang said.

"Don't listen to her. How can someone who sleeps soundly snore?" Xiao La complained with a sigh.

"How could I possibly snore??" Xiao Fang exaggeratedly punched Xiao La.

You watch your playful companions, then clutch the sculpture in your hand, unseen by anyone.

Now you can relax and enjoy your cruise trip.

You know everything: how to deal with it, how to break the deadlock, and so on.

Everything was perfect.

Enjoy it.

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Author's Note: Good morning!!!