Players, Please Board the Train

[Hungry Napkin: A napkin that loves food. It adores any edible item except broths and soups. Note: when it eats, it tends to spit out excess juices and can easily stain clothing.]

[Identification Fork: The birth of a new ingredient often requires boldness and courage. To avoid losing one’s life to culinary curiosity, a veteran foodie at Yongxing Restaurant invented this utensil. Just stab an object and it can identify the food’s components and recommend how to eat it.]

The napkin looked like a lavish piece of embroidered cloth; the Identification Fork looked like an ordinary black-metal utensil at first glance.

Xu Huo toyed with the fork for a moment, then casually tossed it toward Wei Da. The fork pierced his shoulder. Before it could be pulled out, patterns along the fork’s shaft projected a light and a hologram appeared in front of Wei Da.

A cartoon figure wearing a chef’s hat spread its hands, and subtitles popped up:

”Thirty-year-old male with below-average muscle and excess fat, long-term unhealthy routine, contains trace toxins—consumption is basically harmless.”

”However, cannibalism violates human ethics and culinary principles; consumption is not recommended.”

Wei Da pulled the fork out, nervous and uneasy. ”You’re not a Player-Eater, are you?”

”No.” Xu Huo motioned for him to toss the fork back. After Wei Da cleaned it, Xu Huo pocketed it, grabbed the two paintings, stood, and said, ”See you tomorrow.”

Wei Da felt pangs of regret watching him take everything he had saved, but to survive he could only hand it over with both hands, hoping Xu Huo wouldn’t go back on his word.Xu Huo went into the neighboring room, placed the painting face-down on the bed, and lightly pricked his palm with the Identification Fork. The hologram appeared again:

”Healthy male with balanced body fat and no detectable toxins; has history of long-term medication; consumption harmless.”

”However, cannibalism violates human ethics and culinary principles; consumption is not recommended.”

Long-term medication?

Xu Huo frowned slightly. Both he and Wei Da were E-grade players; taking evolution agents shouldn’t count as long-term medication. In his memory there was no period of prolonged medication.

He casually put the fork away and lay down on the bed, mood sour.

Painting Woman slipped out from his clothes and, applying the device’s reading function, said, ”I want to eat something.”

Xu Huo pointed at the cabinet. ”Go look there.”

Painting Woman rifled through boxes and brought out all the food. Xu Huo sat up and asked her, ”Do you know any way to make someone lose memory for a period of time without them noticing?”

”You can use an item.” Painting Woman tapped the screen. ”There are also thieves who specifically steal memories.”

”Memory-stealing thieves?” Xu Huo repeated.

”Yeah.” Painting Woman shoved a cookie in her mouth. ”One of my masters had memories stolen, and he died not long after. He told me before he died.”

”Have you had your memories stolen too?”

Xu Huo instinctively shook his head. From childhood on—including his time in the psychiatric hospital and during his elder brother Xu Zhi’s death—he remembered everything.

He’d never had more than two continuous months of medication in his memory, which conflicted with the Identification Fork’s diagnosis. If counting only medication after evolution, he hadn’t taken doses frequently or in large amounts.

He rubbed his fingers together and waved Painted Woman over. ”Come here.”

She obeyed, and the Identification Fork was thrust into her arm—but nothing happened.

”Don’t resist,” Xu Huo said as he looked up.

The second thrust cut her arm:

”Ordinary aged paper with mildew and sweat odor; inedible.”

The torn arm healed itself. Painting Woman pushed the fork out, held it, and found it amusing. ”I want to stab the person outside.”

Xu Huo didn’t stop her. Not long after, angry roaring came from the corridor. Painting Woman returned a short time later, though the fork had bent.

She carefully placed things by the bed and silently began tidying food pockets and crumbs.

Xu Huo glanced at her once, tested the fork on the bedsheet; since it still worked he put it away.

The night passed. The next morning, the lights came on and Xu Huo arrived at the gallery on time. Wei Da showed up a bit later, reflexively glanced at the painting frame in Xu Huo’s hands, and then asked, ”How do you plan to get through the third stage?”

Xu Huo walked through the gallery. Passing a sculpture missing a chunk of ear, he split his attention briefly, then walked straight to the Door Barrier Post and stood in front of Still Time, knocking on the painting. ”Stop playing dead—come out.”

Wei Da looked at him in surprise. ”There’s someone in the painting?”

”Most of the paintings in the gallery are living paintings,” Xu Huo said. ”Didn’t you already guess? If someone touches a painting at night, they’ll be eaten and pulled in.”

Wei Da nodded. ”Right. The game lore mentioned that before each gallery closing, the Curator personally inspects the paintings, so before players enter there were no fake paintings here.”

”Some paintings did eat players and became living paintings,” he glanced at Xu Huo’s hand, then added, ”but not every painting should be alive.”

”What are the chances a player discovers a living painting if the person in the painting doesn’t move?” Xu Huo asked.

”So you already realized this painting is a living painting?” Wei Da suddenly understood. ”No wonder—when you picked up the painting on Fan Shiji’s behalf at the start of the dungeon, you acted a bit odd. That suggests Deng Yu and Da Xiong must have seen living paintings. Deng Yu thought a living painting meant it was fake, so on the first night he didn’t just go missing—he actively tried to take a painting and was sucked into it.”

”Da Xiong panicked from the living painting and the monsters; seeing no way out, he took a last-ditch gamble.”

He paused, then asked, ”So did you take Deng Yu’s or Da Xiong’s?”

”Da Xiong’s.” Xu Huo answered.

”Then Deng Yu must have been taken by Gao Jun.” Wei Da shook his head. ”Everyone’s hiding things pretty deep.”

”Paintings that show their flaws during the day actually draw players’ attention on purpose.” Xu Huo produced his Lighter. ”But daytime paintings don’t seem too special. I wonder if we can burn one.”

The painted person inside still didn’t respond, but their flat face seemed a little mocking.

Xu Huo lit the Lighter and held the flame under the frame. After a few seconds, the oil-paint person inside turned livid. ”You dare burn the painting—aren’t you afraid the Curator will get angry?”

”It’s fine. If the Curator comes, I can exit the game.” Xu Huo smiled, nodding toward the sculpture behind them. ”Besides, the Curator can’t move during the day either.”

The oil-paint figure shifted left and right in its frame. Finding the flame scorching it made it even angrier: ”Who told you it’s the Curator? It’s just the gallery’s security guard!”

”Call it the guard if you like. Either way, it can’t move.” Xu Huo didn’t argue.

Wei Da then pointed to the numerous living portraits nearby. ”There are still so many living paintings. Just burn it, set an example—scare them into obedience.”

He started trying to take the frame down. Only then did the oil painting cry out frantically, ”Brother! Don’t be so rash—let’s talk it out!”