absurd deduction game.

The group moved quickly along the stone-paved road.

Tian walked at the front with firm steps. A silver scepter had appeared in his hand without his noticing. The scepter was engraved with a pattern of wheat ears and sickles, emitting a faint golden light that slightly dispelled the pollution in the surroundings.

The guards followed closely behind, their longswords drawn, scanning their surroundings warily. The priests chanted protective prayers in hushed tones, and a thin layer of golden light enveloped the group, barely resisting the corruption and erosion.

The deducers were scattered in the middle and back of the group.

Zeng Lai walked at the back, observing the surrounding environment as he went.

Most of the houses on both sides of the street had their doors and windows tightly closed, but some doors had been damaged, leaving the inside dark and gaping like open mouths.

He vaguely saw shadowy figures moving behind some windows, but he couldn't tell if they were living people or something else... No, they were definitely not living people, because all the living people were gathered in the church.

"Watch your sides," a guard in front whispered a warning. "There might be contaminated creatures."

No sooner had he finished speaking than something darted out from a nearby alley.

It's a rat.

But it's no longer an ordinary rat.

They emerged from the cracks in manhole covers, holes in walls, and even the shadows of eaves. Each one was the size of a wildcat, with large patches of fur falling off, revealing festering, pus-filled skin underneath.

The rat's eyes swelled into bulging, blood-red spheres, almost bursting out of their sockets; its incisors mutated into hook-shaped bone spurs, dripping with murky saliva.

They appeared in swarms, and in just a few seconds, they created a terrifying momentum, with the swarm of rats rushing towards the group like a black tide.

"Fight!" a guard captain roared.

Gunfire rang out.

The standard-issue pistol from the Ideal State fired silver bullets, striking the front row of the rat swarm.

The enchanted bullet exploded with fine purification runes the moment it hit its target. The rat that was hit let out a sharp, piercing screech, and its body quickly carbonized and disintegrated, turning into a puff of foul-smelling black ash.

But the rat population was too large.

The light bullets wiped out one row, and two more rows immediately surged in from behind. Some rats broke through the barrage of fire and pounced forward.

"Ew! Disgusting!" Zeng Lai dodged a rat that lunged at his face and fired at close range with his silver pistol.

The gun barrel was almost touching the beast's head when the trigger was pulled—the rat's head exploded, splattering blood and brain matter all over half of his body.

Without pausing, he drew the sacred dagger he had taken from the church with his left hand, and with a backhand stroke, severed the spine of another rat that was attacking from the side. The purification runes on the blade glowed faintly, and the cut wound sizzled and emitted blue smoke.

Because of his injury and his need to conceal his strength, Zeng Lai didn't use his own dice; he knew this was just an appetizer.

The combat methods of the other predictors are even more bizarre.

A strategist crouched down, placing his hands on the ground. From the cracks in the stone slab beneath his feet, countless black threads rapidly emerged. These threads, as thin as hair, were incredibly strong, wrapping around the rats like living tentacles.

The entangled rats struggled frantically, but the threads tightened more and more, eventually strangling them into several pieces with clean cuts, as if they had been sliced ​​by a sharp blade.

Another strategist pulled a palm-sized wooden puppet from his pocket.

The puppet was crudely made, with an exaggerated smiling face painted in red paint on its face. She threw the puppet into the swarm of rats and chanted a short incantation. The puppet swelled up the moment it hit the ground, transforming into a life-sized puppet with iron nails driven into its joints.

The puppet swung its wooden arms, each sweep sending seven or eight rats flying; its movements were stiff, yet its power was astonishing.

The strategists who have survived to this day are all quite capable. In a real battle, their contributions far outweigh those of the low- to mid-level church deacons and guards in the team, drawing astonished yet ecstatic glances from the priests.

But the most troublesome thing is not the rats.

It was a swarm of insects that had gathered there at some unknown time.

The flies, which seemed to have come from nowhere, were each the size of a thumb, and their wings made a sickening buzzing sound when they vibrated.

Their compound eyes are a sickly dark green, and their mouthparts have evolved into long, thin piercing-sucking tubes, specifically designed to bite vulnerable areas such as the eyes, ears, and neck.

A young guard accidentally had several flies crawl into the gaps in his helmet and land on his forehead. He screamed and reached out to swat them, but the flies had already pierced his skin with their piercing stingers.

In just two seconds, a pustule the size of an egg swelled up at the bite site, the skin turned bluish-black, and tiny insect eggs were wriggling on the surface of the pustule.

"Cut it down!" the old guard beside him roared.

The young guard gritted his teeth, drew his dagger, and ruthlessly sliced ​​off the piece of flesh along with the pustules. Several white maggots could be seen wriggling in the bloody wound.

His face was deathly pale, and he almost fainted. His companions dragged him to the middle of the group and gave him some basic first aid.

The plants also started attacking.

A dead oak tree by the roadside suddenly came to life. A huge gash split open in its trunk, like a mouth full of thorns biting at the group. Its branches transformed into dozens of whip-like tentacles, lashing the air and making a whooshing sound.

"Fire!" Tian finally spoke, his tone as calm as if he were instructing a servant to pour tea.

A deacon immediately raised his scepter, and a burst of blazing golden flames erupted from its tip, transforming into a long dragon that lunged at the living oak tree.

This was already the most powerful attack ability of this intermediate deacon. Trees are naturally afraid of fire, even after mutation.

The oak tree emitted a sharp, metallic hiss, and a huge mouth on its trunk spewed out dark green sap. Golden flames, as if alive, coiled around it and quickly engulfed the entire tree.

The burning oak tree twisted wildly in the middle of the street, like a dying giant.

Sparks and ashes scattered and fell.

"Keep going!" Tian said without turning his head. "Don't let us be delayed!"

The team sped up.

But the attacks are increasing.

From alleyways, from windows, from under manhole covers... all sorts of contaminated monsters poured out. Some still retained the forms of plants and animals, while others had completely mutated, growing extra limbs, insect mouthparts, and fleshy tentacles, making it impossible to tell what they were.

They had no reason, only a frenzied desire to attack, venting their malice on this group of living people.

The guards and fighting priests fought back fiercely, brandishing longswords, thrusting spears, and smashing scepters. Golden light mingled with blood, and roars and prayers mingled together.

"Damn it!" Even the most good-tempered person started cursing. "Did these things come from the slums? It's endless!"

"I should have paid more attention to the cleanliness of the slums!"

The other man laughed, not forgetting to joke during the battle: "Just kidding, brother. Even if we could do it all over again, the church wouldn't have any extra resources to clean up the slums."

The swearing butler broke down in his guard: "I know! I just wanted to vent!"

Monsters kept falling and guards kept getting injured. Soon, the team took advantage of the weakened offensive to quickly pass through the area with the most monsters.

But the effects of pollution on people have already begun to show.

A middle-aged guard was panting heavily, with veins bulging on his forehead.

On the back of his left hand, the skin began to change color, gradually turning from normal flesh color to grayish-green, with fine, insect-shell-like textures appearing on the surface. His finger joints became stiff, and his nails grew, turned black, and bent into hook shapes.

"I...I'm fine...I'm clearly not injured..." He gritted his teeth, pressing his right hand firmly against his left wrist, as if trying to stop the alienation from spreading upwards.

But the grayish-green color still spread across the wrist and extended towards the forearm at a visible speed.

His companion wanted to help him, but didn't know how.

“Cut it.” Zeng Lai walked over, her tone calm.

The middle-aged guard suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with fear and resentment.

“If you cut off your arm and sever the pathways to contamination within your body, you can still live,” Zeng Lai added. “Once the mutation spreads to your heart, there’s no hope.”

The guard stared at his left hand, which was gradually becoming inhuman. A struggle flashed in his eyes for a few seconds, then hardened into resolve. He handed his sword to his companion: "Help me."

His companion took the sword, but his hands were trembling.

"Hurry up!" the guard growled.

The blade fell.

Blood splattered.

The severed left arm lay on the ground, and the blood flowing from the cut was not red, but a murky dark green, mixed with white insect eggs.

The severed arm twitched a few times on the ground, its fingers twisting strangely, before finally going completely still.

The guard's face was ashen, but the mutation at the severed arm had indeed stopped. His companions quickly bandaged him to stop the bleeding and fed him pain-relieving powder from the church.

“The Mother Goddess will protect you, children, strengthen your resolve!” Tian’s voice came from ahead, but she didn’t even turn around.

Everyone's steps became much heavier.

The deducers are in a much better situation.

Their soul strength and resistance far exceed those of ordinary people. Although the pollution also causes discomfort, no obvious signs of mutation have appeared yet. They also rely mainly on their special abilities in battle.

The psychic manipulating the black threads had spread them to the walls on both sides of the street, like a giant spider web, preemptively strangling the approaching monsters. The other person's puppets had increased to three, forming a mobile defensive line.

Zeng Lai always conserved his bullets.

Aside from the initial sudden charge of the rats, he mostly used his silver dagger for close combat, his swordsmanship clean and swift, always aiming at the monster's joints or vital points. He only fired his gun when facing swarms of flies or giant earthworm-like monsters that suddenly emerged from the ground, never wasting a single bullet.

"Clear the right side!"

The group finally made it through the long, deadly streets and arrived at the fork in the road leading to the main manor.

The pollution concentration here has risen to another level.

The air was almost frozen; when you breathed, you could feel your lungs being coated with a viscous substance. The ground had turned into a dark red, fleshy layer that felt soft and spongy underfoot and oozed a foul-smelling liquid.

The dark red sky was so low it seemed you could reach out and touch it; the swirling clouds were accelerating, as if brewing something.

It looks like a carbon copy of Fear City.

The manor is just two hundred meters ahead.

The scene of two worlds overlapping reaches its peak here.

Everyone could see the elegant stone exterior of the main building mingled with the dried, blackened bloodstains on the ruins, and the withered sculptures and fountains in the garden merged with the piles of bones next to them.

And on the top floor of the main building of the manor...

The altar of flesh and blood is pulsating.

Like a giant heart, each contraction and relaxation causes the surrounding space to distort and tremble.

The dark green figure atop the altar spread its arms wide, facing the crimson sky, and chanted blasphemous prayers. Though the voice was not loud, it eerily appeared in everyone's ears, and even from this distance, fragments of syllables could be faintly heard.

Those syllables burrowed into my ears like worms crawling in my brain.

“This is the last stretch.” Tian stopped and turned to look at the group.

A hint of seriousness finally appeared on her face.

“It will be more dangerous inside,” she said, “but we have no way out.”

“For the Mother Goddess.” She raised her scepter.

"For Mother Goddess!" the crowd roared in response, their voices filled with exhaustion and fear.

The team launched their final sprint, and the instant they crossed the last fifty meters and stepped through the manor's wrought-iron gates—

Changes occurred suddenly.

The air felt like solidified glue, slowing everyone's movements by half a beat.

The once solid stone path underfoot softened, feeling like stepping on the viscera of some enormous creature—sticky and slippery. Each step caused me to sink in half an inch, and when I pulled out, it brought up a stringy, dark green slime.

"There's a restriction!" a priest shouted hoarsely.

Before the words were even finished, dark green lights simultaneously illuminated various parts of the manor.

Light seeped from the ground, rapidly outlining countless intricate and twisted runes in the air, like the vascular network of some living thing, spreading to every corner of the field of vision, connected, pulsating, and breathing.

Then, the dark green runes suddenly bulged and swelled, with fine cracks appearing on their surface. A wet, dark green butterfly struggled to "squeeze" out of the runes, spread its wings, and scattered scales.

The cracking sounds were as dense as rain.

Every rune in the manor is hatching butterflies.

The sound of wings flapping merged into a low, continuous hum, as if providing accompaniment for the evil ritual above.

They gathered in mid-air, transforming into clumps of dark green mist that swooped down towards the group.

"Defense!" Tian finally moved—but only raised his scepter. The golden light emanating from the scepter formed a protective shield with a radius of about three meters, protecting the core group of people.

The outer guards and combat priests were not so lucky.

The swarm of butterflies collided with the human body and penetrated directly inside.

The dark green scales, upon contact with the skin, immediately burrowed into the pores like living things. The guards who were struck screamed as their exposed skin rapidly changed color, ulcerated, and swelled with countless blisters. When the blisters burst, dark green pus oozed out.

The pus dripped onto the ground, then quickly evaporated into new dark green mist, merging into the surrounding pollution.

A silver beam of light shot into the swarm of butterflies, and the exploding purification runes instantly cleared a small area, causing more than a dozen butterflies to turn into black ash and scatter.

But the gap was immediately filled.

There were so many butterflies that the entire manor resembled a giant hatchery.

"Don't stop, keep pushing in!" The archbishop's voice, imitated by Tian, ​​came through the buzzing of butterfly wings. She remained standing in the center of the protective shield, the golden light of her scepter steady and indifferent. "The altar is in the main building. Destroy it, and these monstrous things will naturally disappear!"

She made it sound easy, but every step the team took forward came at a price.

Two more guards fell, with scraps of paper flying around them.

……

At this moment, Yu Xing, along with Ai Wen and the musicians, were observing the church's offensive from behind the window of the main building.

Evan was in high spirits and commented, "With so few people, they can't possibly break through. Fernail overestimated them."

He also chatted with Yu Xing, saying, "Look, they don't even need you to stir things up; they can bring about their own destruction."

Yu Xing remained noncommittal, but the performer chuckled and said, "Perhaps not."

These words made Evan look over unhappily, but remembering that the actor had also reminded him of something he had overlooked, he raised an eyebrow: "You mean, the church still has the means to take over the perimeter of the manor?"

The performer squinted and looked further into the distance, towards the direction of the suburban cemetery.

“Ah,” he replied, “Of course.”

"Otherwise, how boring today would be." (End of Chapter)