Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Chapter 233: "The Most Normal Madman"How many cases today?" the man with the crew cut suddenly spoke.

"Twenty-three," the white-haired man said. "Mental breakdown... It’s the Sixth World that’s doing this. These people just returned and went mad, or it was their families who sent them here, seeking help. They’re the lucky ones... Those with no one around them probably don’t even know where they collapse."

— This time, the Organizers finally showed their hideous true face, preparing to strike at us fools. Most people can only hope to see it for what it is, this place, is no charity game."

"Damn it. This instance, it’s practically a machine for mass-producing madmen—The United Group must be going crazy too, with so many seeking their help, so many madmen popping up out of nowhere..."

The pale eyes of the white-haired man shifted slightly, revealing a touch of sorrow. "It’s not just that, from what I’ve heard, the suicide rate is also on the rise."

"...People still commit suicide here?" the crew-cut man was taken aback.

"Even in the original world, where so many lives are lost to suicide every day, in such a world, there can only be more," the white-haired man sighed. "World games, Organizers... They hang over our heads like the Sword of Damocles, never knowing when they will fall. Those extreme conservatives, unaccepting thinkers, politicians, and scientists who can’t adapt to the changing rules... Their breakdown has been ongoing from the start, it’s just the information today is too chaotic, we don’t see it, that’s all."

"Not seeing it does not mean it does not exist..." he took another drag of his cigarette. "The world is changing in leaps and bounds, people’s ideologies and methods vary, some choose to go with the tide, some to catch up head-on, some choose to gain experience from Skills and Props, some attempt to engage directly with the Organizers... Then, for those who cannot face it all and choose to end their lives, that’s also quite normal."

"...That’s absurd."

"The people of this world, they’ve been like husks long dead," he said. "Look at those walking the streets, sitting in shops, lying in beds, speaking on forums... Don’t be fooled by their appearance as bystanders, in fact, they’ve long been dying... A psychological death, like dehydrated patients."

"Our living space has already been squeezed to breaking, now we are just struggling to breathe with all our might." He tapped the cigarette, causing fluffy white ash to drift down. "...You’ve seen it too, haven’t you, Kore, those live broadcasting their suicides in the Main God Space—those are people utterly disillusioned, their souls completely eroded.

Those people, who believe humanity has no future, all of us living in endless shame, once brilliant like stars now turned into toys, the long river of history cut off from our generation, and a tomorrow that can never come after a year..."

"Stop it," Kore said.

"Those who committed suicide, those who really died and won’t be reborn, have you seen the images of their deaths on the forums? It’s shocking... Their eyes, those are the most hopeless eyes I’ve ever seen, every memory, fantasy, dream, ideal... all ground away," the white-haired man continued without stopping.

He leaned against the wall, blowing smoke rings, his gaze growing more indifferent:

"Some perished in self-immolation, their ashes scattering like snow, some in explosions, their flesh and blood dispersed like raindrops, some chose to swallow poison, their skin withering away bit by bit on live streams...

Were they wrong to do so? Not necessarily. They had the right to give up their lives.

They had already lost all hope. Like believers losing their faith, losing the deities in their hearts, they’ve arrived in a completely unknown era, possibly only ever seeing darkness before them..."

"Stop it," Kore said again.

He clenched his fists tightly, closed his eyes, his face full of frustration.

"Recognizing the facts, and making a choice, are ultimately two different things," the white-haired man said:

"Those people, those who seemed to die so dramatically in front of so many— they have already settled on a pessimistic end for everyone a year from now, and they made the choice to give up.

Human self-destruction has become the norm, though in such a world, we briefly set aside our prejudices, our hatred on Zhai Xing, became united... But after all, we are not on the same thread, humanity cannot have a hive mind like an AI. To unify everyone’s will... it’s simply impossible.

The Organizers are more than happy to divide humanity. Kore, you saw it too, so many holding different Authorities, so many assimilated by the instance worlds, so many who decided not to be Players anymore...

Just regarding the Fifth World alone, there are many who decide to stay in that world forever, wanting to control their subordinates like deities, no longer willing to be human ants.

Even those who wielded special authority had already abandoned their identity as humans, proactively approaching high-dimensional beings... They weren’t wrong, either. They had made their choice, and it was a firm one.

And us... you and I, standing here in the artificial rain, smoking these cheap cigarettes reminiscent of the past, discussing these utterly fruitless topics.

Our behavior, fundamentally, is no different from those folks at the World Forum. It’s just that we’re merely talking about it.

Humans always like to beautify their actions.

"Kore, we probably can’t escape this enclosure we’ve built ourselves..."

"I’m just pitying those guys for stumbling upon such an instance," Kore said. "I’m here just for some peace, not to listen to you spout a bunch of philosophy that’s been talked to death, Qin Ni—find someone who wants to listen. There will be a bunch at the World Forum."

"...I’m just expressing some emotions." Qin Ni smiled: "After all, if someone constantly represses themselves, living like a machine, that could really turn them into a madman."

"One can become a madman without participating in an instance. Human psychological resilience really is quite fragile."

"Don’t overestimate humanity, and don’t underestimate it either, Kore," Qin Ni said, "Look, although there are always those who fall into complete despair, pioneers of the era still appear in such a world."

"Pioneers?" Kore sneered with a hint of ferocity. "Those Number One Players who are madmen?"

"Do you think they’re madmen?"

"In an abnormal world, those who come out on top are not normal," Kore said. "The Number One Players’ thought processes clearly align with the organizers’ instances, and humans whose thought processes align with the organizers are anything but normal."

"Maybe you’re right," Qin Ni conceded with a rare nod, "But as far as I know, there hasn’t been a case of a Number One Player going insane yet."

"It’s simple to explain," Kore said with a cold laugh.

He looked up, his gaze piercingly cold as he watched a livestreaming screen in the rain:

"—Because those Number One Players went mad long ago. How could a madman go mad a second time?"

"Is that so?"

"From the first time they cleared the game, no one has been ’normal’ anymore." Kore twisted his mouth.

Qin Ni shifted his gaze.

What he saw on a livestreaming screen was a doctor in white, unemotionally staring at a dead body lying on the ground.

Blood had soaked into every corner of the narrow corridor; even the pallid yellow escalator seemed as if it had been brushed with blood.

Eerie, terrifying, and the darkness thick as clouds seemed about to slowly ooze out of the screen at any moment.

...Just watching this scene made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

Let alone the players caught in it.

...Even if these players ultimately survive, the distance between them and madmen would probably not be far.

"This instance is causing a lateral division among humans," he said. "Normal people, versus, ’madmen’."

"When humans reach a certain limit, they no longer count as humans," Kore said. "The thinking, the values of these people will diverge greatly from ours. They have been led astray by these instances long ago; it’s just that this instance makes it particularly evident—The stronger the player, in my view, the deeper the influence of the instance, and the crazier they get."

"For instance, the most powerful Number One Player?" Qin Er pursed his lips toward the screen.

"Him?" Kore chuckled.

His hanging hand unconsciously swayed slightly, seeing a world before him that seemed almost upside down.

Next to his ear, the sound of raindrops continued incessantly.

"...He’s simply the biggest madman," Kore said, "Expecting that kind of madman to lead humanity—I might as well find an opportunity. Join a religion, hoping for a god to guide me."

"The Number One Player is a madman," Qin Er nodded, "But he’s also the most rational, the most normal of madmen. Before he truly goes insane, before he truly loses his sanity, everyone can trust him as the most normal person."

"Qin Er?" Kore frowned.

"I’ve paid attention to that person’s gaze... have you ever seen it? The way he looks at us, it’s not like he sees human beings, not like seeing brethren; it’s more like he’s looking at NPCs in a game," Qin Er said, "I was thinking at that time, why can this person have such a gaze... It’s like he cares a lot about us, yet also as if he doesn’t care about us at all. This question, I still haven’t figured it out to this day, so I simply gave up thinking about it."

"What do you mean?"

"No big deal... just saying," Qin Er suddenly changed the subject, "Ah, right, I forgot to tell you, I’ve joined a religion recently."

"You, an atheist, would do this kind of thing?" Kore raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Qin Er smiled, "Right now, I actually feel like the future is bright."

"Interesting, to think it could get even someone like you so engrossed... what religion exactly?"

"Lighthouse Church."

"...What?"

"Lighthouse Church," Qin Er repeated in an extremely light tone, "...Maybe I’m going mad too."

"You are mad, to believe in that sort of thing?"

"Unexpectedly, I find it not too bad," Qin Er smiled,

"...In such a world of despair, everyone has their own deity deep in their hearts.

Considering a madman as a deity... who do you think is truly mad, me or those who commonly share this faith, the human race?"

Hashimoto Chiha woke up from a nightmare.

When she awoke, her back was soaked, her eyes misted with vapour, her whole body felt humi, as if she had just crawled out of the sea.

The wall clock ticked, the hour hand pointing at three o’clock.

Three in the morning.

She unclenched her sticky hands from the corner of the blanket and wiped the fine beads of sweat from her face.

Her hair, tangled like seaweed, was difficult to separate. She pulled it apart, threw off the covers and checked the Defense Formation she had set up in advance.

...Luckily, no one had come in during the short time she was asleep.

She was really scared.

After being attracted to the vision of Otherworld from the Fifth World, she decided to join in, not realizing she would enter such a dangerous instance.

With the San value setting, becoming insane means truly going mad, and not even a return to the Main God Space would repair her spirit...

This instance was different from any other, with substantial danger and pervasive fear.

The kind of fear that was almost driving people mad.

Before this, Hashimoto Chiha had had a companion.

On the first day, she became companions with a female Player she had not known before during a conversation, agreeing to support each other for five days, to survive, to make it to the end together.

...But just one day in, the female Player began to show signs of mental breakdown.

While still observing clues in the hallway, Hashimoto Chiha narrowly escaped having her throat cut by a knife suddenly drawn by the other woman.

And by the second day, there was no improvement in the other’s condition.

She witnessed the woman collapse instantly, becoming a madwoman, and then being killed by other Players as an outcast.

...And seeing a normal person being driven alive to madness, she now felt a real fear.

Even though this instance had the legendary Number One Player, her fear did not abate in the slightest.

She was constantly mindful of her San value, which was now a little over sixty.

And this little over sixty was already making it hard for her to sleep, nightmares upon nightmares.

As far as she knew, that suddenly insane female Player had gone mad when her San value had dropped to fifty.

Without any warning, like a string suddenly snapping, the person went completely mad in an instant.

She didn’t know at what San value she herself might suddenly collapse, perhaps even in the next moment...

Out of fear, she even thought of committing suicide, thinking it better to be stripped of all her power and return than to become a madwoman.

The Main God Space was not the original World, returning meant going back to one’s personal space, and if no one else was in that personal space, a person rotting away in there would go unnoticed.

She feared such an end.

...Why had the originally placid World Replica become like this?

She was utterly unprepared for such a substantial change in its true sense. Searᴄh the Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Clutching the blanket tightly, as if she wanted to sink into it, she suddenly heard a series of footsteps.

Steady, slow, as if someone was walking step by step along the corridor.