My Healing Games

Chapter 646 The Clown's Hint

The terrifying clown with a disfigured face stood behind him, but the player was completely unaware, still intently staring at the giant monster on the rooftop.

The clown's words seemed to be audible only to Han Fei; his voice resonated directly within Han Fei's mind, as if he knew all of Han Fei's inner thoughts.

Fear crashed over Han Fei like a giant wave. Without hesitation, he shouted to the last player in the group, "Run! The ghost is behind you!"

As soon as he made a sound, Han Fei's body rushed towards the player. It was all done subconsciously. In such a dangerous situation, he did not consider his own safety and acted decisively.

“Very well, you made the first choice.” The clown opened his mouth and approached the player, his teeth, covered in various curses, biting into the player’s soft neck: “You wanted to save him, but he died because of you.”

Even at this point, the player at the back of the group still didn't feel any pain. He was startled by Han Fei's sudden shout, but when he turned around, he saw nothing and even called Han Fei a lunatic.

Just as he was about to say his second sentence, streaks of black blood appeared on the spot on his neck where the clown had bitten him. The blood streaks gradually swelled up and quickly turned into thick black blood vessels!
A sharp pain shot through him, and the player turned his head a second time, only to see the clown's head lodged in his neck.

Screams rang out, but it was too late. Ordinary people seem to only see them at the moment of their own death and when ghosts kill people.

For that player, whatever the reason he could see the "ghost," his fate was already sealed.

After taking a light bite, the disfigured clown smirked and shoved the player to the ground.

"Ghost! There's a ghost! A ghost is behind us!" The fake white mask shattered into pieces. The player clutched his neck, writhing and struggling on the ground like a worm with only half its body left, but this only aggravated his pain.

All the players looked towards the stairwell entrance, but they didn't see the "ghost" at all; they only saw their companions struggling and screaming frantically on the ground.

"Short Hair, what's wrong?" The bald prisoner walked over.

"Don't go over there! It was the ghost who killed him! The ghost is right there!" Han Fei stared at the clown among the countless human head balloons. Among all the game participants, it seemed that only he could see the ghost!
As he was on his way to the Perfect Life B&B, he felt his arm being grabbed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pale arm. He found it strange that he could see a ghost.

“Because when the ghost wants you to see, you can see.” The clown’s voice echoed in Han Fei’s heart again: “You must have forgotten our deal, but it doesn’t matter. I believe you will still make that choice, because you will always be you.”

The balloons floated by, like human heads trying to escape from the clown. Through the gaps in the balloons, the clown's face was fully revealed.

"Compared to them, you are still the one I have the most faith in, so I will place my hopes on you."

A burst of maniacal laughter erupted, and the clown's body stretched out, making him appear incredibly bizarre, yet no one except Han Fei could see him.

"Blessed luck, the ability to see the eyes of ghosts, a chance to return to life, and the fact that the talents you gained from his memories are still there means he also has high hopes for you. I feel like I already know his wish, which is to be killed by your own hands." The clown laughed until his voice was hoarse, but he kept laughing as if he had encountered the funniest thing in the world.

"Who is he?" Han Fei asked his first question, almost blurting it out, as if the answer to this question was very important to him.

“I don’t know whose body he’ll hide in this time, or whose soul he’ll use to kill you.” The clown looked at Han Fei’s arm: “You’ve been killed by him ninety-nine times, directly or indirectly. That’s the difference between you and him. Of course, it’s also possible that you did it all on purpose. But it doesn’t matter now. You only have one last chance to choose.”

The player on the ground lost his life in agony; his death was extremely gruesome, with his entire body covered in thick, black blood vessels.

"If you choose good, perhaps more people who shouldn't have died will die; if you choose evil, perhaps many people who deserve to die will be resurrected." All the balloons around the clown floated away, and a black clock appeared at his feet.

The surface is a child's face, surrounded by his age, and the hands are filled with memories, stained with his joys and sorrows.

"Everything that happens every second of every day is here. Life is like a countdown clock, with one side of the pendulum representing satisfaction and the other side representing despair. The only thing missing from the clock is happiness and smiles."

The clown squatted on the clock, staring intently at Han Fei: "If you want to find your smile again, first see your own happiness. My happiness is right there. What does your happiness look like?"

The clown, laughing wildly, was like a hysterical madman, spouting words no one could understand, laughing until tears streamed down his face.

"Who are you talking to?" Li Guo'er stood closely next to Han Fei. She felt that Han Fei was not in a good state, like he was sleepwalking, which was very strange.

Standing still, Han Fei did not answer Li Guo'er's question; his gaze shifted from the clown to the clock.

The child on the dial seems to be himself, and this handmade clock seems to be a metaphor for his life.

"You seem to be helping me? Why are you doing this? I don't recall any of the deal you mentioned before?" Whenever Han Fei had a thought, the other party's voice would echo in his mind. That clown's abilities were terrifying; he was definitely not an ordinary "ghost."

"With your eleventh death, you fulfilled my regret, accomplishing what I couldn't. You saved that reward for this time; perhaps you already decided to die ninety-nine times back then." The clown laughed until his stomach ached. His face cracked and paint peeled off, making him even more terrifying, as if he'd said too much he shouldn't have. "I will help the one who succeeds in the end, and I hope that person will be you. Before this body, representing my childhood memories, completely crumbles, I can give you one more gift."

His smile turned terrifying, and the monster with twenty-two arms seemed to be enraged, beginning to attack everyone around it in a frenzy.

"Kill everyone who might be him as soon as possible. You don't have a second chance." The Joker grinned, but his smile brought no warmth to those around him, only despair and pain.

"You've been laughing hysterically, is it because you're afraid that if you stop laughing, the tears will keep flowing?" Han Fei had no idea why he said such a thing; he was just expressing his true feelings.

The clown's maniacal laughter slowly changed, his smile gradually fading: "Did you say that to yourself?"

The clock beneath our feet began to tick, which seemed to be the sign that the game had truly begun.

The clown seemed to have completed the deal, and his body, along with the clock, shattered amidst countless human head balloons.

Han Fei's extreme unease disappeared, but fragments of death appeared in his mind, as if he had been killed ten times by that clown.

Shaking his head, Han Fei only remembered the pain of death, forgetting everything else.

It was precisely because of that unforgettable pain that he developed severe paranoia, and the thought of death would cause him unease and fear.

"What's wrong with you?" Li Guo'er was worried about Han Fei, and when she pressed him for an answer, Han Fei had already started walking forward.

The clown and the clock were buried in a sea of ​​flowers, as if they had never existed; only a piece of paper remained on the ground.

It looked like it was torn from the script cover, and it had a poet's words written on it.

"One night I burned all my memories, and from then on my dreams became transparent."

"One morning I threw away all of yesterday, and from then on my steps became light."

Turning to the other side of the shredded paper, I saw Han Fei's own handwriting: "Without past, without future, I should see my truest self."
(End of this chapter)