Su Mingan thought about it. He originally wanted to call her "Amber" or "Lin Yin". However, it was really hard to associate a weird pseudonym like "Banana" with him.
"Banana. Your helmet," the priest said.
Su Mingan took the helmet and saw the fifth disc.
——"The Witch's Narrative Poem".
The disc has a gorgeous and grotesque font, and the silhouettes of several witches are engraved on the surface. They ride on brooms surrounded by roses, and raise black cats and white doves on their shoulders. Blood-red thorns surround the disc, and starlight lingers around the witches, which looks like a dark fairy tale.
Needless to say, this is definitely another "warm and healing" game.
"328 years of the Witch Era. About five hundred years so far." Su Mingan stroked the CD.
There have been asymmetric games, option-based story games, development games, and simulator games. What kind of game would this be?
He and Noel left the crowded crowd and walked through the streets.
Noel said: "I don't know what era the last game is in. There are only six games in total. Louyue Kingdom is in 622, the Steam Age is in 512, and the Witch Age is in 328, so the last game may be..."
"A thousand years ago." Su Mingan said slowly.
As long as you play to the end, maybe the truth from thousands of years ago can be revealed. Why did the old gods leave, how did the gods seize power and usurp the throne... these can be revealed.
Su Mingan stared at the game disc as if he wanted to stare a flower out of it.
"Su Mingan... Look, today is Chinese New Year. I just realized it." Noel said suddenly.
Su Mingan looked up. The streets were indeed very lively, with people dancing lions, setting off fireworks, and families sitting on the street eating reunion dinners. It reminded people of the New Year in the Lord God World. The Louyue Era was the most recent era, and the Eastern culture also had the most legacy.
"...Fuyuan Festival." Su Mingan couldn't help but say.
The deep memory made him seem to return to that period of heavy snow. Whenever he encountered similar weather and festivals, he could always... awaken the sense of déjà vu engraved in his bones.
It was also such a snow when he turned around in the snowstorm that year.
"Yes, it's very similar. The smell of the roasted sweet potatoes on the roadside is very similar, and the aroma of the hot porridge is also very similar." Noel touched the head of the passing child: "But it's very far away. We are just travelers."
Even if the sense of déjà vu is strong, and people seem to think that if they turn around, they will see familiar figures running towards them. But the people who are separated by life and death will never appear again. In the world game, the perception of time is infinitely shortened. Even if it is only a few dozen days apart, it is equivalent to being away for a whole century.
This walk in the snow reminded Su Mingan of Kaiusta's first morning walk. He was a scholar who had awakened from hibernation. Lu followed him and proposed to rebel against the camp of gods.
Today, it’s the same taste of sweet potatoes and porridge, the same rebellion against the gods, and the same snow.
But it is completely different.
"I see there are lantern riddles and candied haws over there. Do you want to go and play?" Noel pointed to the corner of the street where many lanterns were hung.
"No time. Let's hurry up and play the fifth game." Su Ming'an shook his head: "Meet up with Li Yuxuan and the others first to ensure a safe environment."
Noel smiled and said, "Okay."
…
"We sing the epic of the Republic."
"Reciting stories from thousands of years ago."
"With this earnest effort, I would like to bring back the honorable name of the old god Su Ming'an..."
In the Old God Church, the choir children are practicing. This large church accommodates many people who believe in the Old God.
Yamada Machiichi sat on a bench, looking at these pure white children. A few white pigeons stayed by the stained windows, pecking at the myths and legends on them.
"I don't know what the United Group's reaction is." Lu sat down next to him. There was still red in his eyes. Even though Lu always smiled, he didn't smile at this moment.
"It should be too late for them to regret." Yamada Machi said calmly: "Su Mingan died because of Mizushima Kawaseong's overly competitive spirit. This is a problem with the guidance of the joint group. If she could restrain herself a little, this would not have happened. Su Mingan would obviously not have targeted her first."
He clenched his fingers, leaving a crescent-shaped mark.
Although the three years were just a fast-forward slide show in the eyes of the players, they were able to experience everything that happened.
——The first player is dead, and Mizushima Kawai is the executioner.
Large groups are inherently difficult to maintain. Even if people gather together based on their expectations for the future, they will sooner or later be controlled by ambitious people. People of various nationalities are mixed together, and once conflicts break out, they will be a mess. In the past, people could rely on spiritual leaders like "First Player" to make people believe that he must be invincible, that he can always dig into the deepest plot, that he can defeat any enemy and complete the most perfect clearance - what about now?
The lighthouse collapsed.
It was like everything was destroyed suddenly.
This is the role of the lighthouse theory - as long as Su Mingan survives, humans will always have confidence. As long as he continues to shine in the spotlight, humans will believe in his victory. Therefore, the originally precarious human group can maintain basic stability in the initial period.
But once he fell.
…The sandcastle crumbled into sand.
Even now, there are still many people crying. Many players come here to the Old God Church, wanting to mourn Su Mingan in such a magnificent and huge building.
Dried flowers were presented, including various handicrafts and small gifts. Just by sitting on the bench for a while, Yamada Machiichi had seen more than 300 players coming in and out. They carved their condolences for Su Mingan on the stone slabs and held his black and white photos in their hands.
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