Chapter 35 Dinner 2: Games + Dinner
Of course, there are also Xiaoming, Xiaofang, and Xiaola.
But at that moment you couldn't care less about them; you just stared in astonishment, trying your best to keep your lips from trembling with unspeakable fear.
That would make you look foolish.
You think about it. Even though you don't yet know what you're about to face.
Who are they? Your alter egos? Where did they come from? What did you do wrong? Is this punishment?
You quickly went through everything that happened today in your mind and couldn't find any mistakes.
If you look closely at these three "you"s, you'll see they are also scrutinizing you with feigned composure.
So this is how I usually am. I feel like I'm being a bit presumptuous and making a fool of myself.
The momentary shock eased your tension, and you turned to look at Xiaoming and the others' "clones".
Perhaps because it wasn't you, I'm ashamed to say that you couldn't even perceive any specific difference between those sitting there and the women around you.
The same gaze, the same subtle gestures—you don't have the sharp eyes to see through them. You might even have the illusion that "they aren't fake; it's the ones around you who are fake."
Is it just my imagination? Or are you right?
You weren't the only one thinking this. Just as you were about to turn to Xiaoming, something sharp and hard pressed against your lower back.
You panicked for a moment, then gently reached behind you and touched—just the pointed corner of the room card.
She wants to test you, and you can tell from the instant relaxation in her eyes when she looks at you.
You pat her hand, and Xiaoming casually pretends to hug you, then turns to give you an apologetic smile. You don't blame her for being suspicious, and you can't think of a better way to dispel the concerns of the person next to you.
In fact, this kind of probing only shows that you have no hostility towards each other, but it does not prove that you have not been replaced.
But who says these "clones" are fake?
There are many doubts, and thinking too much is pointless. You just need to get Xiaoming and Xiaofang seated first. Tonight's banquet will only be clear once we're in the game.
The four of you were holding hands, and you couldn't budge them at all.
"Little La!" Xiao Fang exclaimed.
When you heard the sound and looked over, you realized that Xiao La's eyes were completely fixed on the scene before her.
Her eyes widened, her lips trembled slightly, clearly the scene before her was extremely shocking. She froze on the spot, unable to move.
Just as you were trying to gently comfort Little La, something unexpected happened.
Before you could completely stop talking, you heard a series of hurried footsteps. Looking up, you saw a "little devil" suddenly stand up from his seat, his expression turning ferocious and terrifying.
Her eyes were fixed on Little La, as if harboring an uncontrollable malice. Before you could react, she pounced on Little La like a predator!
Little La cried out in alarm, taking a step back in fear. Then, as if by reflex, she lunged forward, raising her hand to strike. Little La always believed that the best defense was to take the initiative and attack.
You, Xiaoming, and Xiaofang quickly sprang into action, turning and lunging towards her.
In any case, we can't let Little La get caught up in this sudden attack.
Xiao Fang and Xiao La were the closest, and she reacted the fastest, grabbing the "clone" arm (let's call it that for now) tightly and pulling it backward, trying to pull it away from Xiao La.
However, the "Little La" clone was incredibly strong. Her arms gripped Little La's shoulders like iron clamps, ignoring Little La's punches and kicks, and refused to let go.
You were already on the periphery, unable to intervene immediately, so you straightened up and looked around, searching for anything you could use to stop her. But all you found were cold, unadorned cutlery and plates, utterly harmless.
While searching for props, you also keep an eye on the situation over there: Xiaoming has joined the battle and is trying to use his body to push the clone aside.
While calming Xiao La down with a soft but clear voice, she tried to pry open the clone's fingers, her veins bulging and her short, stubby fingertips glowing with bright red blood.
However, the actions of the "Little La" clone became increasingly violent, even starting to bite Little La's exposed skin outside her dress, as if it wanted to tear her to pieces.
Little La cried out in pain, his face turning pale. Even the most resilient person can't withstand something that attacks relentlessly without fear of pain.
"Xiao La, hang in there!" you growled, and decisively grabbed a sharp knife from the table.
Just a second before you were about to stab Little Ra's clone, you saw your clones sitting upright, their expressions surprisingly ruthless.
Is this your current expression?
The thought only flashed through your mind briefly before you stabbed the clone in the back without hesitation.
The sharp blade pierced the skin, and the clone finally shuddered and went limp.
The gushing, warm blood splattered onto your bodies and faces, making Little La's already scarlet dress even more vibrant.
Without a doubt, that clone died.
They're completely dead.
The clones were no longer as ferocious as they had been in the previous glimpse; they simply sat quietly, their movements and expressions even more mechanically stiff and indifferent than before.
These are not important.
You look at your hand; the blood belonging to Little Ra's clone is still warm, dripping down.
After this ordeal, you're certain that all four people are now "normal." But even if those clones are abnormal, the sensation of a blade piercing flesh, the feeling of a body that was once taut and full of life suddenly turning into a limp mass of dead flesh, still makes you tremble.
Is this what it feels like to kill someone?
And you feel no fear because of this; you kill this humanoid monster with your own hands as calmly as cutting meat for cooking. Perhaps, you, and not only you, everyone who skillfully survives in the dungeon has already been corrupted by it.
Xiaoming's voice rang softly in your ear. Her tone was calm, and you knew she wanted to reassure you: "It's okay, everyone's like this. We'll deal with the future later. Once we leave this place, we'll quickly adapt to a peaceful life. The important thing is that we just need to stay calm and survive."
You nodded and replied with a smile, "You're right."
Xiaoming wanted to say something more, but you shook your head and stopped talking.
Xiao Fang took out tissues and wet wipes from her handbag and quickly wiped Xiao La, who was exhausted, while handing them to you and Xiao Ming: "Hurry up and tidy yourself up. It wouldn't be good if you were considered to have violated the banquet's dress code, looking so disheveled."
She crept closer to you, and when you and Xiaoming were whispering in your ear, she said, "Don't you guys think... these things look like they're waiting for something? Like... props for a performance?"
Xiao Fang's description made you pause slightly; there's a reason behind it.
Although these clones initially acted in ways remarkably similar to real people, they reverted to their numb state after the unexpected events. It's as if their very existence was designed to provoke you and trigger the next event.
Just as you managed to tidy your faces, the restaurant lights suddenly dimmed, the soft lighting was turned down, and the entire hall was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere. The shadows around you seemed to be slowly crawling closer and closer to you.
Please sit down!
You hurriedly jogged to your seats, and the waiters, whom you almost mistook for mere decorations in the room, stepped forward at the opportune moment to pull out the chairs for you.
But their eyes—indescribable and unfathomable—sent a chill down your spine.
You have a vague feeling that they are waiting for you to do something, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Their gazes seem to be the same as all the sailors you've met today: cold, sticky, and carrying a damp, fishy smell.
A deep chime came from afar, echoing throughout the banquet hall.
I told you, the soundproofing on cruise ships isn't very good. Just as you can hear the cheerful sounds of passengers enjoying their evening on deck, heavy, overly rhythmic footsteps come from next door to the banquet hall.
The echoes were like war drums striking the heartstrings, each strike bringing an undeniable sense of pressure.
The other door opened silently, and as you looked up, a muscular captain slowly emerged from the shadows.
Her uniform was adorned with gold epaulets, her back was straight and she was as serious as a soldier, her face expressionless.
Her aura was powerful, and the temperature of the entire space turned icy cold upon her arrival.
But when she stood under the crystal chandelier, you clearly saw the face of an extremely kind old lady.
She wore sunglasses, but all the lines on her face revealed how kind and gentle she was.
The captain smiled slightly, raised his hand in an inviting gesture, and his voice softened, yet remained undeniably authoritative: "Welcome, distinguished guests, to be seated and to enjoy this feast prepared for you. Welcome to this... extraordinary cruise ship."
With a gentle yet radiant gesture, a group of waiters began to serve a variety of exquisite dishes.
The appetizer was chilled Gazpacho, a Western-style cold soup, each bowl a vibrant red, as vivid as blood.
Each person's cold soup was garnished with neatly sliced cucumbers, tomato chunks, and green peppers, with a mint leaf floating on top, bringing a touch of freshness. But in the dim light, the red broth subtly revealed an unsettling hue.
Sight seems to connect to smell and taste; you always feel a fishy smell emanating from this vegetable soup.
"Please enjoy," the captain said, picking up a small spoon and feeding himself spoonful by spoonful.
You had no choice but to start eating.
The cold soup tasted good, but you were a bit cunning and weighed it down with bread beforehand to prevent the soupy dishes from being digested before you vomited.
Next, the Ego Bruce Ketta was served. The bread at the base of the tart was toasted until crisp, and the top was covered with brightly colored tomatoes, olive oil, and basil.
Just as you were about to continue eating, the captain gently tapped the cup, drawing everyone's attention.
She smiled and said, "Since we are all guests from different places, why don't we play a little game and see who can perform the best?"
She waved her hand, and a waiter brought over a disc covered with numbers, each seemingly representing a country or region. The captain gently spun the disc, finally stopping at one number, a meaningful smile playing on her lips.
“Let’s start with the West,” she said. “The West has a traditional game called ‘Toma Toma.’” Her gaze fell on you. “Why don’t you lead this round?”
You pointed to yourself, and the captain simply nodded gently at you.
Why? You weren't sitting in the first seat to the captain's right, nor did you show anything particularly special.
Was it because you killed Little Ra's clone?
You forced a smile and asked about the rules of the game. The captain then explained that it was actually quite simple: everyone would take turns saying the word "Toma" without any pauses and must maintain a consistent rhythm.
Anyone who hesitates or falters will "lose"—and this "loss" is clearly not a trivial matter.
"Have I made myself clear?" the captain asked, his gaze sweeping around the room. "Then let the game begin."
The waiter pulled out a small hand drum from somewhere and started banging it. "Toma," you quickly switched to a beat and said.
Then it was Xiao Fang's, Xiao Ming's, and Xiao La's turn in turn.
When it was your turn, you hesitated for only a moment. Once you were sure that the clones didn't need to speak, you quickly sped up and said "toma," barely keeping up with the final rhythm.
In the next round, you were all quite steady, and no one made a mistake. But starting from the third round, the drumbeats got faster and faster in each round.
"Tomatoma, Tomatoma..." You hold your breath, try your best to keep up with the rhythm, and dare not slack off in the slightest.
For the first time, you realized that your soft tongue could be evenly matched with your teeth. Several times you almost misspoke, but fortunately, the trials and language learning in De Kingdom improved your mouth's responsiveness considerably.
Xiao Fang and Xiao Ming handled it quite well, but Xiao La…
Ever since being attacked by the clone, she's been somewhat distracted. Even when the pace was slow, she was already occasionally swallowing words and making incoherent sounds, but it was still within the rules, so the captain naturally didn't say anything. But now her pronunciation is getting increasingly strange, and you frown, unable to help but worry about her.
To your surprise, just as Xiaoming was about to speak, she seemed to hesitate for a moment. That mere second of hesitation was enough to put her at a disadvantage in this dangerous game.
In an instant, the captain stared coldly at Xiaoming, a meaningful coldness in the smile on his lips.
She nodded slightly, as if pronouncing some kind of fate. Xiao Ming's face turned pale, and he quickly grabbed a dinner knife.
The kitchen knife can attack these monsters! Even if you don't know if the captain's identity makes a difference, sitting idly by and waiting to die is not your style, especially not Xiaoming's.
In a flash, you think of the rules of the entire cruise ship, and then you realize that the entire banquet never took any action against the corpse of Little La's clone lying on the side—maybe! Maybe this game is going to be a fight, maybe the captain is also a clone?
You also took the knife.
However, the waiters who came out on the captain's orders did not approach Xiaoming, but went straight to the "Xiaoming clone" opposite her.
The clone didn't react at first, until the waiter grabbed her shoulder, at which point she showed a look of terror and struggled desperately, but to no avail.
The eyes of "Xiao Ming's" clone were filled with terror. She struggled and let out a shrill scream, seemingly begging for forgiveness, but the waiters seemed not to hear her pleas at all, coldly dragging her away from the banquet hall. The whole process took only a few moments, yet it made you feel as if you had fallen into an ice cellar, and an indescribable chill rose in your heart.
Your mind raced. Were these clones merely scapegoats? Was this cruise ship being so kind? And what exactly were they? Were they just illusions, or did they still have some unknown connection to you?
Either possibility makes you uneasy. You want to take this opportunity to discuss the idea with your companions, but the captain's face remains turned towards you, as if constantly announcing that she is watching you, always watching you.
You understand that it's inappropriate to openly discuss unrelated topics at this banquet. A courteous guest wouldn't arbitrarily break the rules of the banquet.
The game continues.
The captain signaled again to speed up the pace, clearly intending to increase the game's difficulty.
Everyone's expression grew increasingly tense; your heart was practically pounding in your chest. Xiaoming and Xiaofang were also straining to concentrate, afraid of making another mistake.
This time, Little La was finally defeated.
Her speech was noticeably slower than expected, and the captain immediately noticed her mistake.
The same thing happened again; several waiters approached Xiao La's clone once more. Unlike Xiao Ming's clone, this time, Xiao La's clone did not show any panic. Instead, it wore a calm expression, as if it had already foreseen its fate.
She stared at Little La, her face devoid of struggle or pain, instead displaying a kind of calm madness.
Little La stared blankly as her clone was taken away, her lips trembling slightly, seemingly not yet fully comprehending what had happened. Just as the clone was about to disappear through the doorway, a strange smile appeared on her face, as if she felt a sense of relief, even an indescribable feeling of peace.
"Phew." She let out a long breath.
You stare at Xiao La in surprise; her reaction is truly unexpected.
Little La turned to look at you and said softly, "This is fine too, at least I'm still here." She shrugged.
The captain wanted to continue, so you simply said, "We're looking forward to the next meal. We've already gone through so many rounds of the game, why don't we continue with the meal?"
After you finished speaking, you looked at the captain somewhat nervously.
I don't know about Western dining etiquette, but following the host's lead is a basic courtesy in this country. Especially for an activity that's clearly the main event of the dinner, are you making decisions for the captain? Don't you know?
The captain simply nodded approvingly and gestured for the waiter to bring the next dish.
You smiled and quietly wiped the sweat from your palms with the napkin you had laid on your knees.
The main course was soon served steaming hot.
Before you is a Mediterranean-style seafood platter, with a huge octopus tentacle in the center, surrounded by mussels, squid rings and prawns, garnished with lemon slices and rosemary, and on the side is spinach puree mixed with spiced oil and balsamic vinegar.
The dish exuded an enticing aroma. However, the dark purple flesh of the octopus tentacles gave one a slight unease; you could always feel them wriggling.
You were the one who said it was time to serve the food, and you were the one who hesitated for a few seconds without picking up the knife. Taking advantage of this lull, the captain said, "Hot food is best eaten when it's cooled down a bit. There's an old rock-paper-scissors game in the Mediterranean called 'Petra-Kapelo-Psari'."
"Speaking of which, this game is quite similar to 'rock-paper-scissors' from the Flower Country. It might even have originated from the Flower Country," she laughed. "How interesting it is how cultures exchange and influence each other. Today we welcome distinguished guests from the Flower Country, but we are enjoying the flavors of the Mediterranean."
She abruptly changed the subject, not giving you a chance to respond: "This round, Ms. La will lead everyone in the game."
"Okay." Xiao La seemed completely relaxed and agreed without hesitation.
Just like rock-paper-scissors, in each round, everyone needs to choose "rock" (Petra), "hat" (Kapelo), or "fish" (Psari) in turn—"rock" defeats "fish", "fish" defeats "hat", and "hat" defeats "rock".
Your eyes light up – this game is great! For strangers, this game is difficult; but for you, it's as easy as blinking and you can figure out what to play.
Whether it's a two-on-two match or a four-player team battle, you guys are determined to play "hats" (a specific item in the game), and after several rounds, it's all been a draw.
"Oh dear," the captain said slowly.
"Your cheating is really a downer for the dinner party," the captain casually remarked.
"What makes you think we cheated?" Xiao Fang retorted.
Yes, you didn't whisper anything or make any gestures, you just exchanged a few glances. Even if you submit it to the court, you can only say that there is insufficient evidence.
“With you guys constantly drawing, what other possibility is there besides cheating?” the captain insisted.
Without further ado, they signaled to the waiter to take one of each of the four of you away.
You and Xiao Fang are alright. Although Xiao Ming is in danger, at least he has a clone left. As for Xiao Fang, she's all alone now.
You all looked at her, but she didn't react. She just picked up her knife and fork and started eating with relish.
The captain was very pleased with this. The truffle risotto from the Kingdom of Uyghurs and the stewed lamb from the Kingdom of Morocco were served almost immediately afterward, and each time she simply had them play some simple little games.
For example, there is a game called la morra in the UK where you gamble on luck. You win and the game ends only when you correctly guess the number of fingers that everyone spontaneously extends in one go.
With some things on your mind, you ate the soft, sticky rice, covered with black truffle fragments, even more slowly.
Even after everyone else has finished eating, you are still slowly chewing the fragrant rice.
Everyone was waiting for you, but you picked up a knife and cut your own hand.
You drained a small glass of blood from a strong liquor and then handed it to the captain.
"Would you like to try some?" you said.
A fleeting look of greed crossed the captain's face. She seemed to struggle for a long time, but in fact, almost the instant you pushed the glass out, she snatched it and drank it down, as if your blood were some kind of nectar.
"The main courses on the menu are now finished, and we have no interest in the optional desserts. However, Captain, what do you think of the dessert wine from the Land of Flowers?" you said.
As you've seen from the previous gameplay, within certain limits, the rules of this banquet are entirely determined by the captain's will, just like the laboratory in Deguo back then.
You must abide by the lab rules, but how exactly to do so, and what constitutes a truly qualified "student," is up to the professor.
This also has its advantages.
The advantage is that the captain and professors are highly communicative and adaptable.
Since we should play the games of the place where we eat the food, then drinking your blood naturally means playing the games of the Flower Kingdom.
When you become the master of the dishes, you become the rule-maker.
The captain was visibly pale, and the muscles beneath her skin twitched violently. She laughed in fury.
"Then tell me, what do you want to play?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Let's play rock-paper-scissors," you say in the language of flowers, then shake your head. Anyway, the captain is wearing sunglasses, so even if she's glaring at you right now, you don't feel any pressure. You just playfully pretend to be innocent: "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't know how to translate this game, but don't worry, just like your games, the name doesn't matter, the process is what matters."
Like the captain, you quickly started the game: "Good sisters, six six six..." you shouted out the drinking game, and when the captain repeatedly tried to speak but couldn't make a sound, you pointed at her, "If you don't follow me, then you've already lost."
"I don't understand the language of flowers." The captain hugged his arms tightly, his whole body expressing his rejection.
“Language doesn’t matter,” you said, making things up. “We don’t understand what tomatoma is either, but we still kept playing, didn’t we? It’s not very nice of you to question the rules and the game like this.”
"Hmph." The captain snorted coldly, decisively picked up his own sidearm, and shot himself.
The speed at which they acted left you stunned.
Is that all?
You observe the waitresses, but they just stand to the side, showing no sign of coming to clean up the mess.
Soon, you will know the answer.
Accompanied by a tooth-grinding gurgling sound and the grating of flesh against flesh, the blood and bits of flesh that had been splattered from that bullet returned to the captain's body.
She has "recovered".
"Again," she said with a smile.
not good.
She was referring to the language of flowers.
There's no turning back now that the arrow has been released; you clench your fist into a hard rock and have no choice but to keep fighting her.
She does die every time, but each time she revives, she learns more about the game's flower language and logic.
Indeed, the fastest way to learn a new game is to immerse yourself in it and start playing.
Cold sweat beaded on your forehead. Relying on your years of experience as a corporate slave, you had intended to end the banquet one-on-one, but who could have imagined that the captain was even more cunning than you? At this rate, you won't have endless opportunities to fight her.
Just as you were wondering what to do, the captain stopped moving.
She finally stopped turning her face only to you and slowly turned to Little La.
In the reflection of her sunglasses, you can see Xiao La taking care of the clone sitting next to her.
"This is--"
Little La was deathly pale, panting heavily, and blood was dripping from the knife in her hand. Come to think of it, the knives here were incredibly sharp. Normally, when eating seafood or ordinary food, you use knives that won't easily cut you; you'd only use knives like this when cutting large pieces of meat.
You look at Xiaoming, who has turned to look at you, and you see your own pupils dilating in her eyes.
You all now understand what the real feast of this banquet is.
Just like Little La, who is currently slicing off a piece of flesh from her clone and stuffing it into her mouth with tears in her eyes.
Swallow.
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Author's Note: The reason for the delay is that I was very dissatisfied with the writing... I wrote three versions of this chapter, and ultimately, I felt none of them were quite right. The more I procrastinated, the less I could write, and I even felt panicked whenever I opened Jinjiang (and Hongshu)... And I just discovered that the published version was a rejected chapter! Oh no!... Anyway, this chapter is finally published now, and I felt it would be unacceptable not to update any further, so I gritted my teeth and wrote it. In the future, I will try my best to write better, without worrying too much about whether my writing style is explosive or original enough, or whether it can be "meaningful" if it's not original. I feel that worrying about that only traps me and might even cause me to lose the joy of writing TT. I'm still very grateful for the support of all you moms!
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