absurd deduction game.

The distance between the three people and the clock tower was constantly decreasing.

On the way, they even saw a ghostly figure of a woman wearing an apron, standing in front of the gaping maw of a building, calling out a name over and over with a numb mental fluctuation, as if calling a playful child home for dinner, even though her "home" itself was a writhing, living building.

Her child will never come home.

All the "residents" were engrossed in their own lives and indifferent to what the three had gone through.

Their behavior patterns are so similar to those of humans in the real world, yet they reveal a despairing and twisted essence. They are like performing a grand yet tragic puppet show, with the puppet strings being the rules of the night in this terrifying city, as well as their own solidified fears and obsessions.

“Look, that’s Uncle Hans,” the little girl said softly as she walked ahead, occasionally pointing to a passing shadowy figure. “He was a baker in his past life, and he kneads dough there every night, but his dough never rises.”

“That’s Aunt Mary over there. She’s always looking for her cat. I saw it before; her cat was skinned and hung up on another street, but when I told her, she didn’t believe me.”

Her tone was as casual as if she were introducing a neighbor, yet it sent chills down the listener's spine.

This kind of "daily life" forcibly established in the midst of absolute abnormality is more unsettling than pure madness.

It seems to suggest that terror is not always menacing; it can also infiltrate silently, disguising the deepest despair as a numb habit.

The little girl led them away from several seemingly peaceful areas that actually exuded a dangerous atmosphere.

On one occasion, she reached out and pulled the actor who was trying to move aside, pointing to an inconspicuous crack on the ground that pulsated slightly like a vein: "Don't step there, 'Night' will be watching you."

The performer stopped, somewhat regretfully: "Alright."

Yu Xing glanced at him silently.

As they ventured deeper, the outline of the clock tower on the west side became increasingly clear and enormous against the backdrop of the pitch-black starry sky, its hands moving slowly at the top, reflecting a cold and eerie light.

Soon after, the little girl stopped.

She pointed to the end of a street shrouded in thick shadows, with exceptionally tall and twisted buildings on both sides: "If you keep walking straight ahead, you'll see the gate to the clock tower! This is as far as I can take you; if you get any closer, Grandma will scold me."

"Be careful, be careful of 'time,' be careful of 'stairs,'" the little girl said with a smile.

After she finished speaking, she waved to the three of them, her body gradually becoming transparent, and finally disappeared as if blending into the night, leaving only that strange warning behind.

"What does this mean?" Qu Xianqing asked casually. "Forget about the stairs, they're probably the stairs inside the clock tower, but why the 'be careful about time' part?"

In the absurd system of deduction, time is indeed not a benevolent entity. Yu Xing had previously dealt with a witch from the experience master's side, and the power of time was very strange.

There's also the Tomb Palace instance; Carlos changed around that time as well.

But is there also an infiltration of "time" in this instance?

Yu Xing thought about it and felt that the plot of the entire instance had little to do with "time". Perhaps there were some related forces manifesting near the clock tower. He would deal with it when he encountered them.

He stood at the entrance to the street, gazing for a while at the shadow of the clock tower at the end, which seemed to lead to the throat of a giant beast, and at the indifferent, dark universe above him.

The performer asked softly, "Ah Xing, what are you looking at?"

"It's nothing," Yu Xing said.

The three of them stepped into the street, shrouded in thick shadows, that led to the clock tower gate.

The buildings on both sides of the street are twisted to the extreme here, making it difficult to discern any trace of their original structure. They are more like bizarre sculptures formed by the forced mixing and solidification of countless tormented souls, standing silently and exuding a suffocating atmosphere of despair.

The light cast by the cold stars in the dark universe overhead became sparse here, making the depths of the street even darker.

However, in stark contrast to this extremely distorted environment are the shadowy figures of the night.

There are more of them now.

Although the little girl said that if she went forward, her grandmother would scold her, it doesn't mean that there are no ghosts around who can get close. Perhaps it's because the ghosts also have their own territories, and there are specific rules for which street they live on.

The ghostly figures nearby still retain their clear appearance from when they were alive, living on this street. A female ghostly figure carrying a phantom vegetable basket walks out of a building that resembles a tangled intestinal tract, while a man in tattered overalls squats by the roadside, tapping and banging on a "pipe" that is constantly oozing black liquid.

They seemed oblivious to the three people standing nearby, radiating a vibrant energy that clashed with their surroundings, as if they were nothing more than inconspicuous stones on a street corner.

None of them took the initiative to talk to them like the little girl, and Yu Xing and his two companions didn't provoke them either, so they lived in peace.

As they ventured deeper into the street, the massive base of the clock tower loomed over them like a mountain range.

Upon closer inspection, one can better perceive its disturbing details: the distorted and fused human figures on the base appear to be in extreme agony, as if one can hear their silent, eternal wailing.

The rough, scarred tissue on the wall continuously oozed a viscous black liquid, emitting a strong, strange odor of decay and metal.

The sense of oppression emanating from the clock tower, on a spiritual level, increased exponentially. The air was so thick it felt like glue, and with each breath, it felt as if cold needles were pricking at your lungs and soul.

The sanctuary badge has essentially become completely useless.

Strange whispers filled the air, becoming clearer and more seductive the closer one got.

Sometimes it transforms into the call of an acquaintance, sometimes into the illusion of success and fame, and sometimes into the temptation of revealing cosmic knowledge. However, none of these are particularly clever, and it is impossible to even see through their identities as deducers. They all revolve around the identity of the investigator.

These were just temporary identities created for simulation, so the whispers and images had no effect on the three of them; they were just as annoying as flies.

“The pollution here… it’s almost tangible.” Qu Xianqing raised her hand to feel the air; a viscous vapor flowed through her fingertips. “Can you hear a heartbeat?”

The performer listened intently for a moment, then smiled: "It's not just pollution, but also a force of order mixed in. I can feel the heartbeat at the top of the clock tower."

A ghostly blue light appeared in Yu Xing's eyes. A cursed black mist spread around his body, smoothly blending into the surrounding darkness and isolating him from most of the mental disturbances. With the chaotic whispers and illusions separated, his perception became much clearer. He then sensed a powerful spatial rule force, imbued with a sense of cyclicality and confinement, spreading out from the clock tower as its center.

Finally, they reached the end of the street and stood before the open entrance of the clock tower, which resembled the jagged teeth of a giant beast.

The entrance was a deep darkness, as if leading to another dimension, where even starlight could not illuminate it.

Without hesitation, the three stepped inside.

In an instant, the sights and sounds of the outside world—the distorted streets, the numb residents, the cold starlight—vanished completely as if severed by a single stroke.

Before me was a spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever.

The staircase is made of a similar material to the exterior walls, a mixture of dark metal and black bone, which produces a hollow and cold echo when stepped on.

The stair railing is made of countless tiny, intertwined finger bones, which feel icy cold to the touch, as if you can feel the last struggle of countless lives that have passed away.

“I can’t see the end of it…” The actor looked up and clicked his tongue. “I don’t like the boring climbs of stairs. I wish the Monoprism person was here.”

Yu Xing raised an eyebrow: "You're going to treat them like livestock to be ridden around?"

The performer smiled and said, "It's not impossible; it's about making the best use of resources."

Qu Xianqing: "..."

The performer only grumbled a little, but he still had to climb the stairs.

Because the stairs were too narrow, they could not walk side by side and could only follow one after another. In order to prevent the actor from making any underhanded moves, Yu Xing arranged for him to walk in front.

The actor was not happy. After much persuasion, he finally agreed only if Yu Xing went second and sat next to him. Qu Xianqing was at the very back.

They walked up the spiral staircase.

At first, the three did not notice anything unusual. They simply climbed the stairs quickly, keeping their minds focused and on guard against any possible attack.

However, after climbing for about ten minutes, the actor sighed and silently stopped, leaning against the wall.

"Can't walk anymore?" Qu Xianqing poked her head out.

Regardless of their individual abilities, in terms of physical strength, Qu Xianqing has never lost to anyone.

The performer's gaze fell on a crack in the wall beside him. The crack had a unique shape, resembling a distorted, screaming profile.

“No, it’s not that we can’t move.” The musician’s tone was calm. “We passed through this crack five minutes ago. Sure enough, the steps are looping.”

Yu Xing wasn't surprised at all. He even chuckled briefly: "I'd like to see how long it takes you to find out. It's quite amusing to see you walk a little further."

The actor: "..."

"A loop... is it a ghost wall?" Qu Xianqing pretended not to hear Yu Xing's mischief and changed the subject. Anyway, they had seen many ghost walls. "Let's see where the loop starts."

To verify this, they continued upwards.

This time, they paid extra attention to the details around them, and sure enough, five minutes later, they saw the screaming, profile-like crack again, in the same location and shape as when they first saw it.

No matter how fast they climb upwards, no matter how many steps they try to skip, or even try to go down, they will eventually, at some unexpected moment, return to the "origin" with that particular crack.

The staircase itself seems to have become a Möbius strip, with no beginning and no end, only an eternal cycle. Time seems to lose its meaning here, leaving only repetitive scenes and gradually accumulating anxiety.

"Physical movement is ineffective." The actor tried to attack the wall of the staircase, but the mixed material was exceptionally strong and could absorb or deflect the attack, leaving only brief burn marks on the surface before quickly returning to its original state.

It is alive, and its "flesh and blood" have a strong self-healing ability.

Yu Xing raised his perception to the limit, carefully sensing every subtle fluctuation in the surrounding space. He realized that this cycle incorporated mental interference, confusing their sense of direction and time.

In this situation, Qu Xianqing's brute-force approach is very suitable. He asked, "The verification is almost complete, Little Qu, can you break the loop?"

“I’ll give it a try.” Qu Xianqing closed her eyes, discarding all external distractions. She recalled the spatial distortion she felt before each “return,” calculated the patterns of her steps and the changes in the surrounding scenery, and even included the whispers that tried to distract her as part of her data analysis.

“It’s a combination of cognition and ‘spatial folds.’” After a moment, Qu Xianqing suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp glint in them. “This cycle operates partly based on our ‘cognition’ and ‘expectations.’ When we subconsciously ‘believe’ we should return to the origin, it uses spatial rules to send us back. But each cycle isn’t exactly the same. There’s an extremely faint, discordant ‘tremor point’ at the point where the space folds, right there…”

Yu Xing: "..." So many gibberish! Is this the theoretical knowledge she learned from Zhao Mou?
Qu Xianqing's gaze was fixed on a seemingly ordinary, shadowy corner not far below, where the inner wall of the staircase connects to the steps.

“There.” She pointed to the place. “The spatial structure there is the most unstable. It is the ‘gap’ in the flow of energy during the cycle reset, and also the weak point of the power of the rules.”

Almost as soon as she pointed out the point, the air in that shadowy corner distorted slightly, as if confirming her judgment. Perhaps the "Clock Tower" heard her words, and there were signs of escape from this weak point.

“I’ll do it.” The musician, already impatient, stepped forward with a cold smile on his face. “Since this clock tower likes to play with the rules, let it see something more fundamental.”

He stretched out his right hand, fingers spread, and aimed at that node. A power far deeper, darker, and closer to the essence of "nothingness" than the surrounding environment began to gather in his palm.

It's hard to describe what this is. Even Yu Xing, whose power originates from the same source, couldn't sense it. He could only see that after the silence, at the node, the space was like shattered glass with countless spiderweb-like cracks. Dark light leaked out from the cracks, violently clashing with and annihilating the nothingness released by the actor!
The entire circular staircase began to shake violently, and the finger bone handrails made cracking sounds, as if they might break at any moment.

Then, a roaring sound echoed throughout the entire space.

The cycle was forcibly broken.

The spatial rift at the node did not disappear; instead, it formed a constantly rotating, dark vortex emanating unstable energy fluctuations. Behind the vortex was no longer an endless staircase, but a narrow, downward-facing passage exuding an even more ancient and chilling aura. (End of Chapter)