Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 200 The Smile Behind the Puzzle Wall

The scariest thing is not answering incorrectly.

Rather, it's that you thought you answered correctly before.

The smell of blood had not yet dissipated, and the silence at the end of Greedy Feast Street seemed like a giant mouth slowly closing, swallowing up all the remaining echoes.

The scene of Liu Jingyu being dragged into darkness by the puppet strings burned into everyone's eyes like a branding iron.

No one uttered a sound, no one shed a tear; the emotions seemed to slowly churn between decay and freezing, so thick that it was almost suffocating.

Until Mu Sisi raised her hand, pointed ahead, and said in a dry, hoarse voice, "That's... a wall?"

Everyone instinctively looked in the direction she was pointing.

They saw it.

At the end of Greedy Banquet Street, a huge wall stands abruptly.

It is neither brick nor stone, neither metal nor wood; it possesses a grayish-blue texture that seems to solidify a dream, and its surface is covered with a strange luster.

Red light flickered intermittently in the wall's texture, like a faint pulse.

The wall's outline is austere and heavy, its uneven surface seemingly containing a language, yet one that no human civilization can comprehend.

More accurately—it's like a "door" that's missing the key;
It's like a "lock," waiting for the pieces of the puzzle to fit together; it's also like a tombstone, an unnamed inscription for the memories of some who have been swallowed up.

“It should be the export authority.” Rudolf stepped forward, his tone calm, but he couldn’t hide the tension between his brows.

He carefully took the wooden plaque that he had fished out of the "Soul-Separating Fish Soup" out of his pocket.

It was a metal plate corroded by high temperature and foreign liquid, with broken edges and blurred symbols.

“There’s only one piece,” he said. “And the second piece… the piece that should have been its own has… disappeared along with her.”

He didn't say "Liu Jingyu," but everyone knew who he was referring to.

Silence once again suppressed everyone's breathing.

Rudolf carefully inserted the only wooden plaque into the groove marked "F," making a soft "click."

The wall flashed red light, runes flowed, and then silence returned.

"Chimerism successful."

This is the first clear positive response since the entire feast of corruption began.

Some people in the crowd breathed a sigh of relief.

Rudolf then removed a piece of letter relief from the edge of the wall and muttered under his breath as he tried to arrange them: "E...A...S...T...maybe it's a word."

He tried to fit the letters into other grooves in the wall, trying to form words and try to solve the puzzle.

But none of them succeeded.

Each time an attempt failed, the wall would emit a cold "beep," as if mocking their naivety and foolishness.

The red light on the wall grew dimmer, but the temperature seemed to rise quietly.

The air seemed to be smoldering, making even breathing difficult.

“There’s too little information,” Rudolf murmured. “I…can’t confirm the correct solution.”

The crowd began to stir.

Some people sobbed softly, some breathed rapidly, and some suddenly stood up, trying to "push open" the exit.
Rudolf grabbed him, saying, "This wall is not a physical structure; it... will 'backfire'."

In the silence, Wang Yichen suddenly spoke.

His voice was no longer as arrogant as before, but rather a calm and composed tone.
It was as if he had finally shed the disguise of calling himself "captain".

"let me try."

Everyone was startled, and their eyes all turned to the center of attention.

He stepped forward, a subtle light shining in his eyes—like a memory, or perhaps an illusion.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but I have a feeling… I’ve seen this wall before.”

He stared at the blurry symbols on the wall, his fingertips gently stroking the wooden F-shaped plaque.

"I remember how it was arranged. I dreamed about it."

He paused, then murmured:

“FEAST”.

"feast."

The air is stagnant.

Is it irony, or coincidence?

He turned to look at everyone: "We have no other choice. This is the most logical answer."

Rudolf did not object, and Vera nodded slightly.

They embedded the puzzle pieces in sequence: F, E, A, S, T.

When the last "T" sign was inserted into the empty space, the entire wall pattern suddenly lit up.

Blood-red light surged from every groove, spreading across the entire wall like nerve pathways.

Breathe, hold your breath.

then--

Snap, black.

The lights go out.

A moment later, the fat puppet suddenly appeared in front of everyone, grinning strangely: "Oh, looks like you've got some skills."

It stroked its swollen belly and chuckled softly:

"There are three correct answers."

That short sentence was like an icicle piercing everyone's heart.

Only three places.

Wang Yichen's face turned deathly pale instantly, his fists clenched tightly, and his lips and teeth biting until they turned white.

He gazed at the wall, now silent again, and murmured softly:

"How come...it's different from what I remember?"

That whisper, however, acted like a crucial clue, sounding an alarm. "The previous...?" he blurted out instinctively, then immediately corrected himself: "I meant... I thought it was right."

The change of heart was too quick, yet still a step too slow.

Si Ming's gaze darkened.

Vera and Zhuang Yege exchanged a silent glance, their eyes now filled with an unprecedented wariness.

"Are you really just an ordinary participant?"

The lights on Tan Yan Street dimmed once again, and a deeper "script" seemed to slowly unfold in the air.

The jigsaw puzzle wall was plunged into darkness, as if it had never been awakened.

The moment the red light faded, the entire wall fell into a deathly silence, like a sleeping behemoth. Even the faintest patterns stopped flashing, as if the previous illumination was nothing more than a luminous nightmare.

The fat doll still stood to the side, hands on its hips, its cracked wooden smiling face looking particularly eerie in the dim light.

Its pupils were two empty holes, yet they seemed to emanate a kind of insight that did not belong to reality, coldly observing the fear in everyone's hearts.

It seemed to be waiting.

Wait until the last nerve thread snaps.

“That’s the end of the stage directions,” it drawled, as if reciting an ending line. “Now—you can have your fun.”

After saying that, its figure, like paper soaked in ink, began to dissolve, its lines fell off, and its colors faded.

It neither left nor flew away.

It "disappeared" into the air, gradually merging into the darkness at the end of Greedy Feast Street, like a drop of blood seeping into the night, leaving no trace.

Only a strange laugh remained, echoing like a scent at the end of the street.

"Hehehehehehehehe..."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was extremely penetrating; each "ha" sound was like a nail, piercing into everyone's hearts.

Its echoes lingered, as if deliberately copied and replayed by some mechanism, each repetition carrying an increasingly strong sense of mockery.

Rudolf whirled around, his voice almost hoarse: "Wait—at least tell us which three are correct!!"

His voice struck the wall, the air, and everyone's eardrums, but no one answered.

The world was as quiet as a dead city, with only the distant swaying of neon lights on puddles telling them that the "stage" was not yet closed.

Suddenly, the three letter reliefs on the wall lit up slightly.

F, S, T.

The eerie red light flashed briefly before disappearing.

In that instant, everyone's heart leaped into their throats almost simultaneously.

Is this a response?
Is it an implication?
Or... another round of confusion?
Nobody can say for sure.

The air was heavy as lead, and silence seeped into everyone's eyes, nose, and throat like fine sand.

Wang Yichen remained standing in the same spot, as if nailed to that piece of fate's puzzle.

His shoulders trembled slightly, as if he instinctively wanted to lower his head, but then forced it back up.

He turned around and put his familiar "captain's mask" back on.

However, the curve of his mouth was no longer natural, and the muscles at the corners of his eyes were still twitching almost imperceptibly.

"Don't panic." He tried to keep his voice steady, but it trembled slightly.

"At least we know one of the clues is correct. As long as we're heading in the right direction, there's still a chance."

As he spoke, he looked around, trying to capture recognition and trust with his eyes.

"If we just keep going... we'll definitely get out."

He didn't say "her death wasn't in vain," nor did he say "the responsibility lies with me." He simply used the phrase "we can't stop" to cover up all his regret and wavering.

These words created a faint ripple in the deathly silence.

No one answered, but no one blamed anyone either.

Because at this moment, each of them is carrying the same fear.

Si Ming stood at the back of the crowd, looking up slightly at the jigsaw puzzle wall, his fingers gently turning the star chart of fate patterns, as if reading some hidden script.

His gaze fell on Wang Yichen's shoulder blade and lingered there for a moment.

"Did you notice?" he whispered to Zhuang Yege.

"Hmm." Zhuang Yege's gaze was sharp as a blade, and her voice returned coldly.

“He’s not afraid of failure—” she paused, “he’s afraid of ‘failing again’.”

Si Ming's lips curled slightly, his smile as faint as mist.

He wasn't surprised, he was just confirming it.

Vera stood quietly in front of the jigsaw puzzle wall, her fingertips lightly touching the "E" relief.

Her gaze wasn't on the cards, but on something deeper than the puzzle itself.

“A ‘feast’… but is it really the main course?” she murmured.

She seemed to be talking to herself, or perhaps asking a question to an audience member hidden behind a higher script.

The streetlights in the distance were still on, but their light was no longer for illumination; it was more like some kind of hidden eye, quietly watching them.

—This banquet is not over yet.

—Because no one has yet tasted the real first bite.

The air fell silent again, but everyone knew that this was just the setting for a deeper "scene".

They are not players.

They are observed by the script, the characters.

"If you misspell a piece, you can still change it."

But what if you misjudge 'the game itself'...

What awaits you might not even be an exit designed for you.

(End of this chapter)