My Healing Games

Chapter 724 It doesn't matter who the murderer is anymore.
Entering the paradise of life, traversing the labyrinth of memories, experiencing countless choices of humanity, and finally arriving at the hotel deep in despair.

Each visitor arriving late at night has their own identity and represents something. Within the rules set by the black box, they will choose the one who can live.

"Everyone has the right to let others live, but the price is the inability to control their own destiny; their path to survival is in the hands of others."

Han Fei lowered his head, blood seeping from the edge of his mask. The burning pain had not subsided, and his face was now fused with the mask.

“What will happen if we don’t make any choices? We don’t need to care about a murderer at all, provided that he is just a murderer.” The woman didn’t want everyone to be led by the murderer, but the hotel owner, who had been silent all along, spoke up at this moment.

"At least one thing is true: the murderer is right. The black fog is becoming increasingly viscous, and the tide it forms is slowly engulfing the hotel. If the hotel is destroyed, our fate will be similar to those who are forced to leave the hotel."

"Death?" There are two options in front of everyone: either they all die, or they do as the murderer says.

The clock on the wall ticked away, and with each movement of the minute hand, the atmosphere in the room grew more oppressive.

"Why don't we try what the killer said first? Judging from the written messages he left behind, the killer's mental state is very unstable. This might all be his imagination." The magician sat on the sofa, playing with the puppets on his body. He didn't look up at anyone, as if he was talking to the puppets.

"No." The officer refused decisively, staring intently at the magician: "Everyone, stay calm. There was a playing card in the victim's sleeve. The magician is highly suspicious!"

“I’m a magician from the amusement park, not a clown. A clown playing card proves nothing.” For the first time, he raised his head, but his gaze wasn’t directed at the police officer. He got up and walked towards the mute girl in the corner.

When the child saw someone coming, he became even more frightened, helpless and pitiful, like an abandoned kitten.

"I'm a very warm-hearted person and I really enjoy spending time with children. The magic tricks I initially designed were simply to make children happy." He squatted down in front of the girl, took off a plush toy hanging on his body, and placed it in the girl's arms.

"Can you tell me your name? I'll write it down in a moment so you can leave alive." The magician had his back to everyone, so no one could see what he was doing to the girl; they could only hear his voice.

About ten seconds later, the girl reached out and drew a small flower on the muddy wall.

Are you called Flower?

The girl nodded mechanically, the fear in her eyes lessening and replaced by confusion.

“Okay, I understand.” The magician patted the girl’s head. “Children are hope, they are the future. If only one of us can leave alive, I think that person should be you.”

Regardless of what others chose, the magician seemed to have already discussed it with the girl, and after doing all that, he returned to his original position.

The middle-aged screenwriter openly challenged the police officer's authority, and the magician ignored the officer's suggestions. The officer, who originally thought he could easily control the situation, now looked rather grim.

Time ticked by, and when the clock on the wall struck 11:55 p.m., everyone heard the sound of raindrops falling.

The black rain grew heavier and heavier, as if it were trying to destroy the building that held countless sins.

Large raindrops pounded against the hotel's exterior wall. Everyone looked out the window and saw black mist and black rain merging together, as if the whole world was collapsing and pressing down on them.

"Are you sure you don't want to do what the murderer says? Do you want us all to die together?" The magician didn't hide anything from the others. He took down a plush toy hanging on his chest, picked up a pen from the table, and wrote the word "flower" on it.

"I hope this black box can read my mind." The magician picked up the puppet and threw it into the black box: "I want her to be the last one to survive."

The doll fell into the black box and disappeared without a sound, leaving the other travelers in the room staring at the magician in astonishment.

Offering others a way to survive is the only bargaining chip people have to ensure their own survival, but the magician used it without hesitation. He seemed to truly hope that the child could live to the end, just as he had said.

After he made his choice, the girl in the corner stood up unsteadily, lowered her head, and put a piece of paper into the black box.

"That child probably didn't vote voluntarily. We don't even know the magician's real name, yet the girl just threw out the prepared card. I suspect the magician hypnotized the child, making her do something against her will." He laughed wildly, his eyes narrowed, exuding confidence and composure. It seemed he was really just here to play a game, and after the game was over, he would kill everyone.

“Perhaps we don’t need to know the other person’s name. As long as we have a clear image of them in our minds, the vote should be valid.” The magician pointed to his brain: “You can vote if you don’t believe me. When you put the paper with the other person’s name on it into the black box, you will have a special feeling, as if you have thrown that person’s soul into the abyss.”

"You know a lot." The officer became less talkative and gave off a more dangerous vibe.

"The people we choose will be reborn, so why does it feel like we're throwing them into the abyss?" The middle-aged screenwriter was puzzled. He took out a pen and paper from his pocket, quickly wrote down a name, and threw it into the black box.

As the piece of paper fell into the black box, the middle-aged screenwriter was momentarily dazed. He turned around and laughed wildly.

Once someone started, everyone began voting, clearly forgetting the police officer's earlier warning.

After the screenwriters finished voting, Kuangxiao walked to the dining table, wrote down a name, and threw it into the black box.

"Sigh." The innkeeper sighed softly. He and the innkeeper's assistant stepped forward and wrote down each other's names.

"You'll regret this." Seeing that everyone had voted, the officer couldn't sit still any longer. He walked directly to the middle-aged woman, seemingly trying to persuade her, and the two voted for each other.

However, to the officers' surprise, the middle-aged woman shook her head and refused. She wrapped the name she had just written in a ball of paper and threw it into the black box.

Then Han Fei walked to the dining table and put the note with his wife's name on it into the black box.

Everyone started voting, and in the end, only the police officers and the fugitives were left.

“Write! I want to watch you write my name!” The police officer, representing justice, was also the first to resort to violence and threats. Compared to him, the fugitive seemed more like a real police officer.

Punches rained down on the fugitive, and officers stuck their fingers into the wound on the fugitive's severed arm. Under this constant torture, the fugitive was forced to write down the officers' names.

"Don't misunderstand, violence isn't the only way to solve problems, but it depends on the situation." After saying that, the officer wrote down the fugitive's name. Before finding a new suspect, he needed the fugitive to provide him with a way to survive.

Everyone had finished voting, but nothing changed inside the room. Just when everyone thought they had been deceived by the murderer, the clock struck midnight.

The hour and minute hands overlapped, and a strange sound rang out inside the room. Everyone looked toward the source of the sound.

Li Guo'er, who was carried into the hotel by the maniacal laughter, had a large amount of black mist emanating from under her skin. Her blood vessels seemed to have burst, and her snow-white skin turned blackish-red. Her petite body was quickly enveloped by the black mist.

Then all the black mist rushed toward the black box. When the black mist dissipated, Li Guo'er was no longer on the sofa, as if everything about her in the world had been erased.

“The inn is built deep within the brain, and the guests inside should all be consciousness and souls. She might still have a chance to be awakened.” Han Fei activated his master-level acting skills. Everything that happened here affected his emotions, but he couldn’t show any flaws. Only by surviving to the end would he have the opportunity to make a real change.

The black rain outside pounded against the windows like waves. Inside, the ten people stared silently at the sofa where Li Guo'er had just been lying. A perfectly healthy person had simply vanished.

"So the murderer wasn't lying after all; the person with the fewest votes in the hotel really does die." The magician walked to the sofa and gently touched its surface. No one could tell that someone had been lying on the top shelf just a minute ago.

After witnessing Li Guo'er merge into the black mist, his previously confident laughter subsided considerably, and the madness in his eyes was stirred. He seemed to have seen a similar scene before.

"The killer didn't make a move in the first round; he was probably worried about exposing himself." The officer's tone also changed. If he hadn't written down each other's names in the final stage, he probably would have ended up like Li Guo'er.

Everyone else in the room seemed to have their own partners, but the police officer was tied to his mortal enemy, the fugitive. They had absolutely no trust in each other, and it would be too risky to entrust their lives to each other.

After Li Guo'er disappeared, the fog outside the hotel seemed to recede a little, but only ten minutes later, the receding fog began to crash against the hotel again.

The old hotel couldn't withstand the impact at all; it was like a wrecked ship caught in a storm, ready to sink at any moment.

"Oh!"

A window in a room on the second floor was blown open, and a large amount of black rain poured into the room.

"I'll go close the window."

Just as the waiter was about to turn around, the screenwriter shouted at him, "You'd better not leave our sight."

The magician smiled and stared at the waiters: "Haven't you noticed yet? If we don't choose the dead for a long time, the disaster will engulf us all. The murderer is urging us to choose the last survivor as soon as possible."

He stroked the doll on his body, then walked towards the mute girl: "It's really cruel that so many of us adults have to compete with a child for the only way to survive."

"Stop deceiving that child." The middle-aged woman didn't recognize the little girl. She just felt that the magician had been using the child. If you looked closely, you could see that the little girl's eyes were completely different from before. They were numb and blank, as if she was gradually losing herself.

“How can you call it deception? Out of all these people, I’m the only one protecting her.” The magician walked towards the little girl again, and the others did not stop him. They did not seem to mind that the magician used the little girl as his “insurance.” Perhaps it was because the girl was too weak, and the adults could easily manipulate the child. If they really couldn’t control her, they could kill her and make everyone lose this stable source of votes.

Because anyone could easily kill her, that's why she's able to live.

“Wait, I also suspect you’re coercing that girl.” The officer suddenly spoke up, picking up the little girl from the corner and moving her to the dining table, placing her under the light.

"It's alright, I can stay away from her. Let her choose for herself." The magician shrugged indifferently, then wrote the word "flower" on a piece of paper, thinking of the little girl, and threw the paper into the black box.

The second round of voting has begun, and unlike last time, the officers are clearly uneasy.

Black-box judgment, when judging a person's choice, seems to be based not on whose name the person wrote down, but on who the person was thinking of at the moment of voting.

It was as if the magician was deliberately trying to tell everyone this, which is why he just randomly wrote a fancy word for the vote in both rounds.

Vote on paper doesn't count; what matters most is the thought in people's hearts.

"It's your turn."

The black mist raged against the hotel, causing the entire building to creak and groan, but the magician seemed to enjoy the atmosphere.

The officer's gaze towards the magician was chilling. He knew that forcing the fugitive to write his name wouldn't necessarily work; the fugitive could easily turn against him at the last minute, thinking of the other passengers. This kind of emotional vote couldn't be changed by violence; it truly corresponded to the message on the note—all personalities and souls are equal.

Everyone has their own partners and successfully passed the previous round, but this round may not be so easy.

The officer lowered his head slightly, concealing the murderous intent in his eyes. If he couldn't safely obtain other people's votes, how could he avoid becoming the person with the fewest votes?
There is only one answer: eliminate all competitors before the voting is completed.

“We have ten people, and we can vote for each other to survive until the end. But if someone has an accident, the person who didn’t vote for them will be the murderer and will be isolated and become the next victim. So there’s no need for everyone to worry for now.” The screenwriter seemed to say this on purpose to calm the police officers down: “While the voting is over, we can go and investigate the hotel to find out the murderer’s real purpose. Maybe we can find another way to survive.”

“That makes sense.” Kuangxiao and the middle-aged screenwriter voted, followed by the hotel owner and the waiter. Han Fei and his wife, who had recognized each other in the previous round, also voted for each other.

Only the police officers and the fugitive remained in the hall. As they hesitated, the maniac suddenly spoke up: "Vote for the screenwriter. He voted for me, I voted for you, and if you vote for him, none of the three of us will die."

If the police officers believe the maniacal laughter, the fugitive will die; if the maniacal laughter is a lie, both the fugitive and the police officers will die.

What was originally a simple situation became complicated because of a single sentence uttered in a fit of rage.

(End of this chapter)