I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

Zhao Weilai searched the group and found a portable toilet, a bottle of hunger-free pills, and seven or eight train tickets.

She stood there, holding the clay figure necklace, trembling all over.

Deng Ziwen.

It really is Deng Ziwen.

He had no job, and the only two life-saving items he had were stolen.

Not only that, he was beaten up, his ticket was stolen, and he was thrown into the fourth carriage, the details of which he did not know.

What's inside?

Are any of these people telling the truth?

She doesn't know either.

A surge of anger rushed to Zhao Weilai's head, almost driving him to the brink of madness.

She burst into tears and squatted on the ground, wishing she could take a knife and kill those selfish bastards.

"NIO!"

Weng Yang patted her back and gently comforted her, "Don't worry, the fourth carriage is a safe zone, Deng Ziwen will be fine staying there."

"They stole Ziwen's props and his train ticket!"

Zhao Weilai's eyes were red like a rabbit's, and his tone was full of despair: "Without a ticket, we'll be eaten by the [invisible train conductor]."

"Then killing them now won't do any good."

Weng Yang grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her up:

"Didn't you notice? Something's off about the deaths of these two people."

Furthermore, I've been watching the death announcements on the system panel, and Deng Ziwen's name hasn't appeared there, which means he's still alive.

"Really? You didn't see that wrong?"

Zhao Weilai paused for a moment, his voice trembling slightly, "...You're not lying to me, are you?"

"..."

Weng Yang shook his head:

"Deng Ziwen has always been very lucky. He survived the last dangerous dungeon by having diarrhea, so he'll definitely be fine this time too."

The fourth gate is locked now. We'll wait until it opens and then go rescue him.

Killing these two people now would only cause us trouble; it would serve no purpose whatsoever.

Weng Yang's words were like a tranquilizer.

After thinking it over, Zhao Weilai finally calmed down.

She stood up and found that the other new players in the carriage were still squatting on the ground.

Many people looked at her with fear in their eyes, as if they were looking at some man-eating demon.

—The other party seems to have misunderstood something, thinking that she was responsible for the self-destruction of the group.

The Indian man kept his distance from her, his eyes full of wariness.

Kim Myung held Park So-na in his arms, his head bowed low, his whole body trembling.

Mu Xiao's face was deathly pale, and her eyes were filled with fear.

Even the usually friendly Margaret kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with her.

……

"No, I didn't do it."

With a sob in his voice, Zhao Weilai stammered, "I don't know why they turned out like this. Their deaths really have nothing to do with me."

No one spoke.

It seems that when faced with unknown fears, people always subconsciously look for a concrete "culprit".

Zhao Weilai was somewhat dejected, while Weng Yang put away his gun, sat down in the chair next to him, and frowned in thought:

"Do you think it might be a dungeon rule? Players can't attack each other maliciously—no, I just fired a shot, and it didn't trigger the death penalty."

"The rule isn't about players attacking each other; it's about not lying."

A thin, weak voice rang out.

Mu Xiao raised her head from the crowd, her face deathly pale:

"Sister Zhao, that man just now... he lied."

The first person said he found the item, which was a lie, and then the truth came out.

The second person initially claimed that the person was killed by a ghost and that the items were given to them, which was also a lie. Then his neck started to grow longer.

What he said after that was probably the truth... but he still died.

Zhao Weilai and Weng Yang were both stunned for a moment.

The two of them were so focused on being angry that they didn't even notice this detail.

Upon hearing Mu Xiao's words, Zhao Weilai suddenly remembered the teenagers who died on the first night.

At the time, a few people were boasting that they could perform magic tricks.

Not long after they finished speaking, their heads exploded.

"Can do magic tricks" - this is a joke, but also a lie.

……

……

"In this instance, lying means death?"

Zhao Weilai covered his head, feeling utterly bewildered.

How many lies does a person tell in their lifetime?

Well-intentioned, malicious, intentional, unintentional.

No one can count them all.

"Does telling a lie trigger a death mechanism, regardless of whether you confess afterwards?"

Weng Yang made a guess, and Zhao Weilai translated the sentence to everyone.

"!"

"...You'll die if you lie?"

"This is unbelievable, this is evil."

The crowd stirred.

Everyone instinctively covered their mouths, afraid that they had just told a lie and triggered the death rule.

Some people even quickly reached out to touch their necks to make sure they were still okay and hadn't grown longer before they breathed a sigh of relief.

……

The Book of Proverbs in the Bible says, “A lying mouth is an abomination to the Lord, but the one who acts truthfully pleases him. A liar will go to the lake of fire, which burns with sulfur.”

Margaret's expression was devout and solemn, her voice carrying a resolute solemnity: "This is God's punishment, the sin of lying."

The priest frowned and made the sign of the cross.

He didn't see this as God's punishment; it was more like the devil's game.

They are the characters on the stage, using their lives to please Satan, who is hiding behind the scenes.

……

……

……

Waiting is always agonizing.

Zhao Weilai has no time to dwell on what the rules of death are right now.

Her mind was filled with thoughts of the missing Deng Ziwen.

But Weng Yang is right, there's nothing she can do now but wait.

Wait for the night to pass, wait for the next car door to open.

No news is good news.

Two of the four men died, and of the survivors, one was shot in the shoulder and lost consciousness due to blood loss.

The other was utterly terrified, cowering in the corner of the carriage, trembling uncontrollably with his head in his hands.

He kept repeating "I didn't lie" and "Don't kill me," and it seemed that he was becoming mentally unstable.

Nobody cares about them.

No one dared to approach, and no one wanted to interfere.

When they themselves are struggling to survive, no one will sympathize with two bastards who steal things and then throw people to their deaths.

Many people even felt that it would be better if they were dead, so that Zhao Weilai and Weng Yang wouldn't hold a grudge against them for this.

As time ticked by, the players took their seats, preparing for the arrival of the second night's anomaly.

Zhao Weilai and Weng Yang chose the two rows of seats in the middle of the carriage.

This location is close to both the front and back doors, making it easy to observe the situation.

The other players also found places to sit, trying to stay as far away from the corpses as possible, and also keeping a distance from the two women—not too close, not too far.

Time passed slowly, and the train continued its journey through endless darkness.

The clanging sound of the rails was monotonous and repetitive.

The lighting inside the carriage was always dim, making it impossible to distinguish between day and night; one could only rely on a watch to keep track of time.

Around 3 p.m., my hunger reached its peak.

Some people started rummaging through the scattered luggage on the ground, looking for something to eat.

Even moldy cookies or dry baguettes.

The person who found it was overjoyed and carefully hid it.

Those who didn't get a turn were filled with envy, their eyes darting back and forth between the other's hands, harboring their own schemes.

Some people started snatching food from others' hands, and some even started fighting.

Finally, the priest stepped forward and separated the two.

He recited a few prayers, then broke the moldy bread in half and divided it equally between the two men, finally ending the farce.

Zhao Weilai felt a little uneasy watching this scene.

On the very first day, the selfishness and malice inherent in human nature were already impossible to conceal.

If they go hungry for another two days, who knows what kind of trouble the players will cause.

……

"Don't think about it."

Weng Yang used the motion of yawning to press the pill under his tongue:

"I'll keep watch for the first half of the night. You can get some sleep first. We'll probably have to keep busy tonight."

Zhao Weilai nodded wearily.

She was indeed exhausted. Her nerves had been on edge for almost a day, and this further blow had pushed her mental and physical limits.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, but she couldn't fall asleep no matter what.

My mind is filled with Deng Ziwen's face.

The two of them had already made a promise to live together, work together in the Special Investigation Bureau, become stronger together, and work together to find a way to completely escape the instance.

Zhao Weilai became increasingly anxious as he thought about it, his heart pounding.

She finally fell asleep in a daze.

He slept very restlessly, his dreams filled with exploding heads and Deng Ziwen's cries for help.

"Tap, tap, tap!"

It was one o'clock in the morning.

The carriage was eerily quiet.

Therefore, the sudden knocking on the window sounded particularly jarring.

The sound was rhythmic, like something pecking at the car window.

Zhao Weilai suddenly opened his eyes and turned to look at the car window beside him.

Outside the car window was an impenetrable darkness; nothing could be seen.

Suddenly, a face pressed against hers, and through the glass, their eyes met.

It was a woman's face that looked like an owl.

It has grayish-black feathers, round, huge yellow eyes, and pupils that have shrunk to a thin slit.

Its sharp beak was pecking at the glass, making a "tap-tap" sound.

Her face was so close that it was completely reflected in the glass.

His eyes were fixed on the carriage, yet they exuded an indescribable eeriness and chill.