Su Mingan stared at the file and saw two words clearly visible: "drowning".
He suddenly remembered the system prompt at the beginning of the dungeon:
…
【Welcome all players to the tenth world!】
[World name: The Old World, Dream Patrol Land]
[Basic mission for all players: Survive and live to the twentieth day. ]
[Your identity is detected as: Su Mingan. 】
…
Your identity is detected as...Su Mingan?
He plays "Su Ming'an" instead of "Su Wensheng".
At first, I thought Su Wensheng was his pseudonym, but now I find out that he is the person who replaced Su Wensheng - Su Wensheng had died long before Su Mingan arrived.
At this moment, Su Mingan suddenly felt a headache, as if something was exploding in his mind. He staggered to his feet, rushed into the room under the puzzled gazes of several people, and lay on the bed, gasping for breath.
A large number of memory images flooded into his mind, as if dragging him into the memories of the past -
…
I have always found this world strange.
It seemed like it shouldn't have been like this before. The spring breeze and flowers should have stayed here, and there shouldn't have been any gods in the sky.
I thought some people would raise objections, or at least think that we should look back to history, but under the dim sky, I only saw the silent majority. People pointed the finger at themselves, unilaterally giving themselves the responsibility of "loving society" and monitoring whether others love this society. Under this logic, the more they blame others, the more they appear to love society.
Eventually, no one pursued the truth anymore.
I don't like the world as it is.
Later, I got a ginger cat. My mother told me that having a pet can reduce my internal friction. The ginger cat always looked at me with a lazy look, as if it felt sorry for me.
After all, I know that my thoughts are meaningless and I can't change anything. I was born in an ordinary family. My father is a guard in a small town. Although my mother is the most famous mystic in the world, she is always away from home. It seems that I was born without a mother.
In the process of raising orange cats, I began to understand the weight of life. Sometimes when I see bodies of people starving to death on the roadside, I wonder if this person was a orange cat, raised by a rich person, would he not have starved to death.
But I can't change anything, I'm just an ordinary person.
When I was eight years old, I passed by the fifth floor of the teaching building, where there was a long-abandoned classroom.
Through the glass window of the classroom, I saw the naked teacher and female students. At that moment, a flash of light flashed through my mind, and I suddenly understood why the world had fallen into this state. From top to bottom, everything I saw was soaked in filth.
I pushed the door open and shouted, saying I would call the police. The female student looked at me gratefully and ran away. The teacher held my shoulders with a gloomy expression, as if I had committed some terrible mistake.
I remembered my grandmother’s advice. She said that our family was getting poorer and poorer, and that my mother hadn’t sent money home for a long time. It was very hard for her to support my schooling. She asked me to listen to my teachers and not do anything out of line.
But is it an outrageous act to break this scene? Or is it an outrageous act of human nature to stand outside the window and watch silently and make "good-looking" comments?
I don't understand. I'm only in my eighth year, and I still don't understand why the "silent majority" came into being. My blood is too hot, my face is too hot, and my hands move too fast, all of which make me so desperate.
On the way to the office, I couldn't help but look back and look down at the teaching building. The female student was running out wrapped in torn clothes, and the students screamed as if she was a monster. She was still young, but the marks on her body were like wounds that could not heal. Every glance made the wounds more rotten, as if maggots were parasitic on her body with people's gazes, leaving her with a lot of holes in her future life.
I watched her desperately trying to escape, and she gradually fled from this hell that was to her, like a bird with a broken wing.
I was standing in the office, and the principal patted me on the shoulder and told me not to spread the matter or call the police. He would give me the title of "Three Good Students" as long as I kept silent.
——But how can I remain silent?
I thought of that classroom, the desks and chairs were all new, and I thought this was not the first time this had happened, and it had happened dozens or even hundreds of times without my seeing it. If I had to remain silent, I would have thrown myself into hell.
I shook my head.
At the age of eight, I didn't understand what silence was.
Later, I was detained in that office. My father came to look for me, but was driven out by the security guard. The principal said that I violated the school rules and regulations and needed to be punished.
The rain outside the window was getting heavier and heavier. My sight seemed to penetrate through the layers of walls and see the art classroom. There were still people coming in and out with smug expressions on their faces. I put my hand on the window glass, leaving a long trace and wiping away the mist. I saw my pale face, my pupils shrank, and my lips pursed, as if pitying me.
I seemed to see an orange cat, and I became this cat.
ah.
It suddenly dawned on me.
It turns out that "going out of line" is indeed a sin.
If everyone remains silent and you shout, you will be taken away as a matter of course.
I was taken away.
In order to make me shut up, I was sent to a dark place. There was no light there, only endless beatings and confinement. People said that was where bad kids stayed.
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