Yuan Qingli drew parallels between her own experiences and those of Mu Yingshan.
She asked, "Can you tell us what you mean by feeling unwell?"
"The so-called discomfort can be understood as psychological attack or mental pollution."
After being contaminated, some people will experience spiritual corruption, while those with strong mental strength are more likely to experience physical discomfort.
For example, abdominal pain, chills, or vomiting blood might be bearable for a few days. Weaker tourists, however, will suffer both mental and physical attacks, and without timely treatment, they will quickly…
"Wait, have you been contaminated today...?"
The orange clown's pupils contracted slightly, then he nodded to himself, "That's right. Otherwise, why would you be in the service lobby?"
The three of them watched him mutter to himself, unsure of what to say.
This clown looks even more innocent than his face.
despite this.
The opposing stance between players and NPCs prevented Yuan Qingli and her companions from revealing more information.
The orange clown looked at Yuan Qingli with a serious expression: "Judging from your current condition, you should have received proper treatment. You must be extremely careful and avoid a second instance of mental contamination. Otherwise, the consequences will be unimaginable... Even we can't help you."
Strange, I was clearly not healed by the Red Clown.
Yuan Qingli was about to ask if it was related to the strange thing they encountered on their way here.
To everyone's surprise, the orange clown's expression changed drastically: "It's here!"
Heavy, sticky footsteps pattered on the ground, as if dragging something.
The sky was completely shrouded in thick black fog, and the omnipresent breathing sounded like dozens of people crowding around them, laughing and staring at them.
Densely packed, accompanied by rhythmic breathing sounds.
It's a feeling of being spied on.
It was as if eyes were everywhere, and in the darkness, these eyes parted the clouds, gleaming with curiosity.
Dark eyes stared at you, huddled together, whispering amongst themselves, trying to leave their mark on you.
Yuan Qingli and the other two felt a chill run down their spines.
Looking at the orange clown's expression, it wasn't much better. He raised his index finger, making a shushing gesture.
The slightly dried bloodstains on the white gloves were the only bright spot in the otherwise dark environment.
Yuan Qingli was slightly dazed, but quickly came to her senses.
Beside him, Lu Xingyun showed no signs of discomfort.
Only Bo Zijin had a furrowed brow, her left hand clutching her bow tie tightly, and her expression was off.
Something seemed to be exploding and spreading rapidly in my mind.
【Bo Zijin, let me go! And let yourself go too…】
Ha, your current affection is worthless in my eyes.
I want to go to the sea and die there.
【Bo Zijin! Bo Zijin! Bo Zijin! You deserve to die more than I do!】
The clown quickly walked up to Bo Zijin, stained his index finger red on his chest, and then dappled it onto Bo Zijin's face, drawing a small red flower.
At the same time, he was muttering to himself.
Yuan Qingli heard the heavy, clattering footsteps gradually fading into the distance; the direction they seemed to be heading towards the rest area.
She understood and was certain.
If the owner of the footsteps was headed to the rest area, this explains why Jin Wuwu refused to open the door for them and blocked them out with iron bars.
"Bo Zijin, are you alright?"
Lu Xingyun's voice drew Yuan Qingli's attention back.
Bo Zijin's face was icy cold, pale and chilling.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and said, "I'm fine. You should take care of yourself."
His ambiguous tone suggested he had indeed regained his spirits.
Lu Xingyun noticed that Bo Zijin's gaze was fixed on his nose.
I reached out and touched it.
I have a nosebleed.
The orange clown's eyes swept back and forth between Yuan Qingli and Lu Xingyun, his expression shifting between surprise and delight.
However, these emotions change so quickly that they are impossible to catch.
"Is your blood Tang Sanzang's blood?" Yuan Qingli approached.
The orange clown smiled gently.
At this point, the three of them realized that his expression didn't seem so terrifying anymore.
“It’s happiness,” he succinctly stated.
The sky above didn't seem so dark anymore.
The orange clown pointed solemnly at the rose garden.
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