Chapter 36 The Banquet 3: Encroachment
You're all the same dish.
Your souls, your bodies, under the rules of these dungeon worlds, can all be devoured by the locals or the world consciousness they represent.
You might think of using your own blood to reverse the roles, but it's impossible for you not to think that you might end up on the dinner table yourself.
However, this idea just floats lightly through your mind, as if you deliberately ignored this option, hoping to solve the immediate problem in the simplest way.
Who would want to pick up a knife, cut off the flesh of someone who looks exactly like them, stuff it into their mouth, chew it into mincemeat, and then swallow it?
Obviously, the vegetables are not edible, but the captain has thoughtfully prepared some delicious dishes for you.
Little La's throat bobbed, and you watched her lips change from a vibrant red to a pale gray. You heard her stomach rumbling and digesting the unidentifiable raw meat.
She abruptly turned her head to the side, covered her mouth with her fingers, and her back heaved. Xiao Fang reached out to pat her back, but after a few movements, she lowered her head and buried it under the table, becoming unseen.
The last clone of Little Ra, who was sitting down and was more "energetic" and rebellious than the other clones, completely lost its life the moment its flesh and blood were sent into Little Ra's stomach, and slid off the seat listlessly.
Your gaze involuntarily follows her, and you see her, like flesh-colored ice, quickly rising in swirling blood mist, silently evaporating completely.
Snap, snap, snap.
The captain clapped.
“Congratulations, Ms. La, she has tasted the true essence of this dinner.” Her voice seemed to come from a box, rumbling loudly.
Your stomach churns, but you can only pick up the knife and fork with trembling hands.
"Don't tell me you're going to..." Xiao Fang's eyes widened, her face filled with disbelief and terror. She was still struggling.
She knew she had said something "nonsense".
You nodded with a wry smile, too exhausted to offer any further explanation.
Your three clones are sitting perfectly fine opposite you; you even have to get up and walk over to reach them. Eat someone else's clones? You'll probably have to play a few more rounds of the game with them.
Regardless of who wins or loses, or if the situation remains deadlocked, neither is a good outcome. You noticed the time; this dinner, which felt like only a few tens of minutes had passed, had actually stolen several hours.
If I don't go back to the cabin soon, I'll be breaking the rules.
You take a deep breath, calm your inner struggle, and stroll towards your clones.
They sat upright across the long table, like statues ordered to stand still. But the moment you approached, their eyes suddenly sharpened, as if activated by some invisible switch.
You subconsciously feel that this is actually you. After only a slight hesitation and without any warning, three figures suddenly pounce on you with deadly speed and unparalleled precision.
Before you could retreat, your arms were gripped tightly.
Only after you're truly overwhelmed by them, just like Little La before, do you realize that it's not that they're incredibly strong because they're "monsters," but rather that they possess the strength of your own body, which is being used with all its might.
But, but you know they are unaware of fear and pain, and when facing their own faces, you find it difficult to resist with all your might.
For a fleeting moment, you see your own face reflected in the eyes of these three identical faces. And in their eyes, you see the exact same scene.
You occupy four angles, filling this small area that has become a spherical space due to the limbs twisting together.
symmetry.
This word popped up.
Your body was slammed to the ground, your head slammed against the hard surface, your ears rang with pain, and your vision blurred.
The clones coldly look down at you, their faces expressionless, but you can still sense something—well, they must be afraid, right?
Previously, you assumed they were ignorant and fearless, subconsciously aiming to completely objectify and dehumanize them. By ignoring their feelings and initiative, you ensured that your own subjectivity was inviolable.
But what if they also exist independently?
What if they aren't illusory clones at all?
Overthinking and being overly sensitive in your explorations are also a curse.
I can't think about it anymore.
Suddenly, a clone slams its knee into your abdomen. The impact makes you arch your back instantly, exhale, and feel the pain reverberate through your internal organs.
You try to fight back, raising your hand to grab their arms, but another clone has already precisely grabbed your wrist, the joint being pressed in the opposite direction, almost breaking it.
*Pfft*—Someone has joined the fray.
A piece of meat, still dripping blood, is offered to your mouth, and in a panic, you bite into it.
It's not bad to eat.
Aside from the mental discomfort, the moment the meat entered my mouth, my tongue was immediately enveloped in the taste of blood, and the tender flesh seemed to tremble slightly in my mouth. The last warmth of life?
As you bite down, the meat fibers burst open, and rich, warm juices flow out. As you chew, the texture of the meat twists and turns between your teeth, as if it's struggling.
Soon, a sweet aftertaste emerged from the fishy smell, gradually deepening and permeating the senses. With each swallow, the raw meat, now minced, slid down your throat. You could feel it gently moving through your digestive system, eventually breaking down.
The clones that were controlling your hands also stopped, and you sat there, touching your stomach.
So this is what my own taste is like.
You slumped in your chair, and through the gap in the seat, you made eye contact with Xiao La, who was looking down.
Contrary to her apparent nausea and disbelief, she was clearly laughing. She was laughing so hard that her teeth were showing, specks of blood on them.
You swallowed again, then rubbed the back of your right hand against the corner of your mouth, licking away the blood.
"Is it effective?" Xiaoming asked quietly.
So it was she who fed you the meat. She had already eaten a piece of her own flesh.
Xiaoming, speaking from experience, suggests that by having you eat the flesh of the clones, you can quickly break free from their control. It's pure kindness; he's trying to save you.
Xiaoming's clone seems to possess Xiaoming's calmness and ability to weigh pros and cons. Perhaps letting the "main body" devour her will allow her consciousness to revive within the main body. Xiaoming says, "I can sense them, and they can sense me too. It's perfectly fine to do this, let's eat quickly."
They did not resist; they simply made Xiaoming eat it, and then dismembered and broke his body.
"Crazy..." Xiao Fang muttered to herself. She couldn't bring herself to eat "human" flesh.
She covered her face and wept; none of you knew what she was thinking at that moment.
You have no time to pay attention to anything else, because your belly, beneath that soft, evenly marbled flesh, your bright red stomach is releasing electrical signals through countless synapses to alert your brain.
"I want more, it's so delicious."
It cried out, "The original, natural taste is so reassuring! I want to have another bite!"
"I ate it twice, and you'd better eat it twice too; it will help a lot." Xiaoming leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath carrying a fishy smell.
It smells like a cruise ship.
But you can no longer smell the cruise ship smell; the air here has become incredibly clean.
You pick up the kitchen knife that has fallen to the side and slash at the other two surviving "yous".
…
You don't remember how many bites you ate, but it was quite a lot, probably more than Xiaoming and Xiaola ate.
Has Xiao Fang eaten? He probably has, otherwise why would the whole room suddenly become so silent? The captain and crew all stopped what they were doing, their eyes fixed on you.
They stood there, their expressions a half-smile, their eyes revealing an indescribable emotion—a mixture of disgust, contempt, and even a kind of grotesque pleasure. You are the performers of the weird show, and they are being entertained.
A moment later, the captain slowly walked towards you. She clapped her hands lightly, and then a waiter handed you several small, exquisitely packaged boxes, which were gifts prepared for the banquet.
"Thank you for your presence, distinguished guests," the captain said with a hint of cold mockery. "In return, we have prepared some special gifts for you."
The box was heavy, with intricate patterns carved on its surface. The closer you looked, the more you saw the interwoven lines, messy yet gorgeous and mysterious.
You didn't say anything, but took the box, your fingertips instantly feeling the cold.
You might feel uneasy right now, but you remain alert. You cautiously glance at the box, trying to peek through the tiny cracks to find its secrets, only to discover that it is sealed very tightly, with no sign of being able to be opened.
The captain's smile faded, and she gave you a deep look before saying meaningfully, "Good luck, and I hope this gift will accompany you on your journey."
As soon as he finished speaking, the captain gestured for the crew members beside him to leave, then announced the end of the banquet. All the waitresses and crew members departed together. They lined up in two rows, led by the captain, their movements perfectly synchronized. Under the same uniform, differences in gender and physique were erased, as if they were one—a unified whole.
You were seen off from the banquet hall.
As you walk into the corridor on this floor, you look around.
The empty corridor was deserted; the passengers and crew who had been reveling in the festivities were nowhere to be seen, and only the sound of your footsteps echoed between the walls.
The faint echo seemed to be responding to you, as if some enormous being was breathing slowly, quietly observing your every move.
The lights flickered overhead, their brightness shifting from dim to bright, as if an unknown shadow were passing overhead when they went from dark to bright.
Such a giant cruise ship is usually quite stable, yet you always feel a slight up-and-down motion beneath your feet. The entire hull seems to tremble slightly, like a heartbeat, thumping and pounding.
"Let's hurry up, it's getting late." Xiao Fang spoke up at the right moment, putting his arm around you and urging you to keep going.
Finally, you arrived at the room door.
Swipe your card. The moment you reach for the doorknob, you freeze.
Hot.
Soft.
That touch traveled from the palm of my hand straight to my heart.
You held your hand up in front of your eyes and looked at it. It's normal.
"Why are you holding your hand up?" Xiao Fang asked.
As she spoke, you slowly diverted a sliver of your attention to her. Taking advantage of this moment, Xiao Fang suddenly shoved you and Xiao Ming, pulling Xiao La into your and Xiao Ming's suite.
Her face held a resolute expression, and you could see cold sweat dripping from her forehead, but you didn't seem to care.
—You and Xiaoming were just standing quietly to one side, but Xiaola actually reacted more like a living person than the two of you.
Startled, Xiao La turned around in the center of the room, completely unprepared for Xiao Fang's actions. She looked at you as usual, her gaze filled with unease and doubt, but to her surprise, you and Xiao Ming simply stared back at her coldly, your eyes devoid of any emotion.
"This..." Little La blinked, confused.
Just then, Xiao Fang took out four pastries from his pocket—the pastries were shaped like blooming white roses, with a layer of silvery-white icing on the outside, like gorgeous offerings from a fairy tale.
It looks familiar.
Without waiting for a reply, Xiao Fang handed the snacks to you: "Eat up."
You resisted more fiercely than anyone else: "No! No!"
Xiaoming and the others ate obediently. Xiaofang came forward, said "sorry" softly, and then forcefully pinched your mouth shut, stuffing the pastry into your mouth.
A faint, refreshing fragrance immediately fills your mouth. You subconsciously start chewing, and the taste gradually changes. The sweetness disappears, replaced by a bitterness and a chill.
Suddenly, something in my mind loosened up.
You feel a slight dizziness, and your vision suddenly drops from the top of your head, instantly bringing the whole world back into focus.
It was a strange and indescribable feeling.
You finally realize that eyes should be on the face, not floating somewhere else; human consciousness is bound by the body and should not wander around.
Everything returned to where it belonged. You felt yourself become "smaller," but the pulling sensation of your fingers and toes bending and straining told you that this was your body, and this was normal.
I took a deep breath and calmed myself down a bit.
You remember everything.
Those pastries were what you got in exchange for completing your daily routine of showing disdain in the VIP lounge's sunroom that afternoon.
Today you engaged in multiple rounds of mutual contempt, finally earning a snack to eliminate the negative effects, before using a mirror to drive the visitor away.
This was your idea, simply because you're worried about tonight's treacherous banquet. Even though these pastries might have their problems, at least you know something about them; it's better than eating completely unknown food at the banquet and then having no way to figure it out.
At the same time, you subtly begin to observe the others.
You consumed the most clone flesh tonight, so you're probably experiencing the most unknown effects right now. Xiaoming and Xiaola also uncontrollably swallowed large amounts of flesh, but they had fewer surviving clones than you, making them luckier than you.
Xiao Fang seems to have controlled it the best; she probably didn't eat much, which is why she's able to save everyone from this predicament.
You smile at Xiao Fang, thank goodness for her.
Everyone looks a bit pale; the effects of the dinner party are lingering and affecting you all again. This actually makes it easier for you to induce vomiting of the pastries you just ate, haha.
Everything in my stomach seemed to turn into a foul-smelling black liquid in an instant, gushing out along with the food I had swallowed at the dinner party, as well as white hair and shards of glass that had turned into pastries.
A metallic taste rose in my throat. Ah, it was a glass cut.
You furrowed your brow, trying your best to suppress the urge to take another bite and taste it yourself, while your face remained calm and expressionless.
"Alright, let's head back now. Be careful tonight." Seeing the situation, Xiao Fang thoughtfully cleaned up the mess in the bathroom for you and Xiao Ming. On a normal cruise ship, even at night, you could call a waiter to clean up, but now you had to do it yourself.
With a gentle wave, Xiao Fang, supporting Xiao La, bid you farewell. Her figure disappeared through the doorway, while you and Xiao Ming poured yourselves a glass of warm water, sat on the soft chairs, and tried to clear your minds, quietly processing everything that had happened tonight.
First of all, what is the purpose of this dinner?
Is this just a show of force to intimidate you?
Where did those clones come from? Are they the trigger that drives you mad, or some kind of life-saving clue?
You take out the so-called souvenir given by the captain. The lid of the box is tightly closed, without any keyhole, as if it were a single, seamless piece.
I shook it, but there was no sound.
"Maybe it will open automatically when we get off the ship?" Xiaoming said wearily.
Your voices are a little hoarse; this is a consequence of stomach acid corroding the esophagus.
"Let's go to sleep first," you said, letting out what felt like the umpteenth sigh of the night. "I thought it would take a few days of calm before the crisis slowly surfaced, but I didn't expect it to be like this on the very first day."
"Who can argue with that?"
While Xiaoming went to wash up, you went to every corner of the room and carefully checked the doors and windows to ensure that every detail was flawless.
Your fingers lightly trace the door lock and windowsill, your movements slow and careful. Having experienced the Dolo Mountains before, you always feel a certain apprehension towards the darkness outside the window.
The more you try to avoid it, the more unintentionally or irresistibly you'll glance out.
In the distance lay an endless expanse of darkness, a darkness that could never be compared to even the most pristine natural mountain areas.
The dark sea blended into the night sky, and the sparse, dim starlight still cast a faint reflection on the sea.
The scattered stars are like fragments fallen into an abyss, making it even harder to distinguish where the sea ends and the sky begins.
They echoed each other, forming a chaotic mass.
This is a sphere.
The intermittent sounds of Xiaoming taking a shower couldn't drown out the pounding of your heart.
You touch your chest and feel it; it's the same pulsating sensation you felt earlier from the cruise ship.
Looking out again, you might suddenly feel that you, no, the entire cruise ship, are the tiny heart inside this spherical eggshell, with air chambers above you and the sea below providing nourishment.
The heart receives nourishment, and the heart will sacrifice itself for the whole.
You instinctively took a step back; you were startled by your own thoughts.
However, his gaze could not leave the darkness.
Then you think that this darkness may not be a natural night, but rather the stomach space of something.
An endless chamber.
As you erase the effects of the dinner, the fishy smell of the cruise ship returns.
The stench came from the darkness, carrying the damp chill of seawater and an indescribable putrid smell.
A sticky feeling filled the air, creeping down your skin. You rub your belly, and you hear it saying, "I want to eat, I'm so hungry."
You forcefully close your eyes with your hands, hold your breath, grit your teeth, and pull your hands away from the French door handle on the balcony.
You slowly back away until your back touches the cold wall, then you can finally catch your breath.
But the strong, fishy smell seemed to linger in the air, refusing to dissipate.
Your nose is incredibly sensitive, and you unconsciously start sniffing.
The cruise ship rocked slightly, but for a ship like this, it must have encountered a storm and huge waves to cause this level of turbulence.
Something fell to the ground.
You pick it up.
It's that painting.
—The cruise ship in the storm, the outline of the waves looked like a sea monster.
You reach out to touch it, only to discover that it's a half-dry oil painting. When you touch it, the paint smudges and spreads out, revealing the artwork underneath.
Lift up a corner of your dress—you haven't changed out of your gown yet, but you won't be wearing it again anyway—and wipe away the surface paint of the painting. It turns into stinking seawater, soaking everything and revealing the whole hidden scene to you.
What is this?
A dirty mess of colors, all mixed together, was smeared onto the canvas with strokes from left to right.
After pondering for a long time, you finally noticed a clue from the red spots that were repeatedly emphasized.
This is a circular ring.
can't read.
By the way, isn't Xiao La studying art? Maybe she knows something.
You make a call, the signal is a bit weak, but it still works.
"What is this?" Little La asked, just like you. "It looks kind of weird and uncomfortable."
"Ah, I thought you studied art, so you must know something, maybe you could figure something out," you answered honestly.
Xiao La shook her head helplessly: "Sister, what we're learning isn't about looking at a painting and immediately offering an artistic interpretation. In reality, many times even the artist themselves aren't quite sure what they're trying to express; the audience's interpretations become part of the art itself."
Seeing that Xiao La was steer the conversation toward real art analysis, you quickly called a halt.
“This painting definitely has a deeper meaning,” you said confidently, and encouraged Xiao La, “Take another look. Don’t worry about misinterpreting it; just share your personal perspective.”
Seeing that she couldn't refuse, Xiao La seemed a little shy about her forced "showing off" in front of you, which was quite out of character for her. She scratched her green hair awkwardly, then frowned and carefully examined the painting.
"You're right, it has a ring structure. Why is it obscured by so many colors? Hmm, maybe it's hinting at chaos or self-loss."
“Well… as for the circular structure itself, it generally has obvious symbolism,” she said in a low voice, her tone gradually becoming more professional. “From an art appreciation point of view, a circle usually symbolizes eternity or cyclicality, especially since it has no opening, no clear beginning or end, conveying a sense of infinite continuation.”
She directs you to find the details of the different ring-shaped color blocks: "Look, sister, the dark blocks and shadows here remind me of the abyss in the universe, or the unknown space."
"Moreover, this almost monochromatic color scheme gives people a cold and oppressive feeling, as if it is hinting at some mysterious force. In fact, such a composition is often used in art history to express the unknown existence, such as... the ouroboros - a symbol of self-devouring, reflecting humanity's anxiety about the endless cycle of life and time."
At this point, you were all stunned.
"Where does the ouroboros originate from, a philosophical concept?" you ask.
"It originated in Ige, but Ige is the origin of Western civilization and is closely related to the entire Mediterranean civilization," she said.
That's the problem.
Cycle, life, self-devouring.
Everything corresponds to what happened today.
"Sister, do you think it's possible..." Xiao La asked cautiously.
"I don't know," you said.
My thoughts are all jumbled up. The ouroboros might be right, but everything at the dinner party doesn't seem to fit perfectly.
You have indeed devoured yourselves, but you have not gained any so-called eternity!
"Xiao La, you—" You wanted to say a few more words to Xiao La, but you watched helplessly as your phone flew out and smashed against the door.
You yourself were thrown to the other side.
Rumble!!
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Author's Note: Good afternoon! Tiger has finally moved out! Now I'm bursting with the urge to write. Thanks for your support! It seems like I can start a new giveaway in a couple of days, hehe, continuing to give back to the moms! Love ^ ^
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