My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

After leaving the tavern, Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang practically ran all the way until they were far away from it.

The sound of their footsteps was particularly clear on the empty street, their shoes making rapid, muffled thuds on the dirt road.

Zhang Ying only slowed down after turning a street corner and completely losing sight of the tavern's wooden door.

Shen Yugang bent over, panting heavily, his hands resting on his knees. Sweat streamed down his face from his forehead.

"Brother Ying... why... why are we running away?" Shen Yugang asked breathlessly.

Zhang Ying was also slightly out of breath. He glanced back at the way he came to make sure no one was following him before lowering his voice and saying, "I feel something's wrong."

"Something's not right?" Shen Yugang straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Putting aside the protagonist's overly familiar manner," Zhang Ying's gaze darkened, "I noticed strange red rashes and pustules on Jack's neck just now."

Shen Yugang was stunned for a moment.

"Although the symptoms disappeared in a very short time," Zhang Ying said with certainty, "I am absolutely certain that my eyes could not have been wrong."

Shen Yugang scratched his head in confusion: "Red rashes and pustules? Could this guy have syphilis? After all, Cowboy frequents brothels quite often."

Zhang Ying nodded: "I have indeed thought about that."

He paused, his brows furrowing slightly.

"But the symptoms disappeared too quickly, too quickly for me to confirm my thoughts. I let you out so that I could confirm another possibility."

Before Shen Yugang could react, Zhang Ying had already turned and walked towards a row of wooden houses on the side of the street.

Like the pub, these log cabins are typical Western style, built of wood with rough walls and faded paint residue on the window frames. But unlike the pub, every door and window here is tightly closed, and the curtains are drawn tight, letting in no light.

Zhang Ying stopped in front of a wooden house.

He glanced at the tightly closed wooden door, took a deep breath, and reached out to grasp the doorknob.

The door was locked.

Without hesitation, Zhang Ying held his breath and pulled hard.

With a "crack," the door bolt snapped in two as he pulled. The wooden door was flung open, and a gust of air rushed out of the room.

Immediately afterwards, an extremely strong stench of decay wafted out of the house.

The smell was so strong it was almost tangible, a mixture of the sweet, pungent smell of rotting meat and some indescribable sour stench, wafting over you.

Zhang Ying immediately pinched his nose and backed away.

Shen Yugang also took a few steps back. The moment the smell entered his nostrils, his stomach churned. He bent over, gagged a few times, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"What is this...? It stinks!" Shen Yugang's voice changed.

Zhang Ying did not answer. He covered his mouth and nose with his clothes, his brows furrowed tightly, and carefully walked into the house.

The further you went into the house, the stronger the stench became.

The floor was made of wood, and it creaked when you stepped on it. The room was dimly lit, with only a small area illuminated by sunlight streaming in from the open doorway.

But that little bit of light was enough for Zhang Ying to see things on the ground.

White maggots crawled around on the ground.

They huddled together densely, wriggling in the cracks of the floor and rolling in the shadows of the corner. Some had already climbed to the vicinity of the threshold, but when the sunlight shone on them, they quickly twisted their bodies and retreated.

Flies buzzed around. Their buzzing echoed in the enclosed space, like some kind of eerie hum.

Zhang Ying suppressed the churning in his stomach and took a few more steps inside.

When he saw what was in the living room, his pupils suddenly contracted.

A corpse lay on the rotting wooden floor, its surface soaked with thick, putrid blood.

The corpse was highly decomposed, its skin a dark purple color, covered with numerous large and small red spots. Some of these spots had ulcerated, revealing the dark red muscle tissue beneath.

The corpse's belly was swollen, as if something was pushing it out from the inside. The skin was stretched almost transparent, and the bulging organs inside could be seen.

Maggots crawled all over the corpse, crawling in and out of its eye sockets, and pouring out of its mouth and ears, densely covering every inch of its skin.

The sound of maggots wriggling on the corpse was faint and dense, like the rustling of raindrops hitting leaves.

Zhang Ying only watched for a few seconds before quickly exiting.

He went outside, closed the door tightly, and took deep breaths of the relatively clean air outside.

Shen Yugang stood not far away, and seeing Zhang Ying's expression, he swallowed hard.

"Brother Ying... what did you see?"

Zhang Ying pursed his lips, his expression somewhat stiff.

"It's a highly decomposed corpse," his voice was somewhat hoarse, "You definitely don't want to see what's inside."

Shen Yugang's face paled for a moment, but he didn't ask any further questions.

Zhang Ying leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and calmed his breathing. After a while, he spoke.

"The worst thing that could have happened has occurred."

Shen Yugang looked at him.

"The corpses inside the house prove my suspicions," Zhang Ying said, opening his eyes with a heavy tone. "Smallpox has broken out in this town."

Shen Yugang felt a tingling sensation throughout his body.

smallpox.

The word was like a bucket of ice water poured over him, leaving him frozen in place. He subconsciously touched his face and then looked at his arms, only letting out a slight sigh of relief after confirming there were no rashes.

But then, he recalled the eerie sight of the town being completely deserted, and an even more terrifying thought welled up in his mind.

"Then... are all the people in this town... dead?"

Zhang Ying nodded.

"That's possible. When I asked the bartender how the people in town were doing, he hesitated and was unwilling to answer. That's probably why."

Shen Yugang grimaced, feeling nauseous. He remembered that he had drunk most of a glass of milk in the tavern earlier, and his stomach churned again.

"That's not right," Shen Yugang said, frowning. "When I watched the movie, this scene wasn't there. Why would a perfectly good town suddenly have a smallpox outbreak, killing all the residents?"

Zhang Ying did not answer immediately.

He leaned against the wall, his gaze falling on the row of wooden houses across the street with their doors and windows tightly shut, lost in thought.

After a while, he slowly spoke.

Why are the people in the tavern unharmed?

Shen Yugang was taken aback.

"Could it be because," Zhang Ying muttered, as if talking to himself, yet also asking a question, "that their storyline is still in the movie, so they won't die?"

Shen Yugang opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

"And what did the people in the tavern think of our presence?" Zhang Ying continued, "Judging from the state of the corpse's decomposition, it had been there for at least two or three days. As one of the few living people in this town, we entered the town as caravan scribes, and they neither warned us nor seemed to care."

He turned to look at Shen Yugang.

"It's like the outside world has nothing to do with the tavern."

Shen Yugang felt a chill run down his spine after hearing Zhang Ying's words. He recalled the reactions of the cowboys in the tavern.

From their initial hostility and discrimination to their later restraint upon hearing about the "caravan," not a single person mentioned anything about the town's situation.

No one said where the people outside had gone, and no one warned of the danger outside.

It was as if that wooden door separated the inside and outside of the tavern into two different worlds.

"They don't care if we live or die," Zhang Ying said calmly, but every word carried a chill. "They might not even care about our identities."

Shen Yugang swallowed hard.

"So... what exactly do they want?"

Zhang Ying did not answer the question.

He couldn't answer either.

He couldn't understand what this world wanted them to do. Did the film studio bring them here just to let them die of smallpox?

Zhang Ying raised his head and looked at the sky above.

The sky was very blue, the sunlight was dazzling, and a few white clouds drifted slowly by.

Everything here looks so real, so normal, just like a real day in the American West.

But this is precisely the biggest abnormality.

"What is the purpose of this world?" Zhang Ying murmured.

Shen Yugang stood to the side, unsure of what to say. He looked at Zhang Ying's profile, his young face filled with confusion and seriousness.

After a moment of silence, Zhang Ying turned his gaze away and looked at Shen Yugang.

"Old Shen, what's the plot of this movie?"

Shen Yugang paused for a moment, trying hard to recall the content of that movie.

"The plot of this movie is very clichéd, but also very funny," Shen Yugang organized his thoughts, "It's a series of cowboy adventure jokes revolving around Jack. Today he steals a cow, tomorrow he gambles, and the day after he outwits the Native Americans. The whole movie doesn't include any plot about smallpox; it's basically a family-friendly movie with some adult jokes."

The more Shen Yugang spoke, the more he felt something was amiss, and his brows furrowed.

"The plot has now completely exceeded my expectations. This place is less like the movie world and more like another world with a movie setting but completely different from the one I expected."

Zhang Ying remained silent.

He lowered his head, looking at the fine gravel on the dirt road beneath his feet, and remained silent for a long time.

Shen Yugang didn't dare to disturb him, so he just stood there, glancing around warily from time to time, afraid that something unclean might suddenly appear.

After a long while, Zhang Ying finally raised his head.

"It seems the only way to escape this place is to continue searching for that cowboy named Jack."

Shen Yugang blinked.

"As the protagonist of this world, even if he were infected with smallpox, it would subside in an instant," Zhang Ying's gaze hardened. "He might know something."

Shen Yugang nodded, though he was still a little apprehensive, but Zhang Ying's words made sense. In this unfamiliar world, the talkative and outgoing cowboy was indeed their only clue at the moment.

The two turned around and walked back the way they came.

The streets remained empty and deathly silent. The wooden houses on both sides cast long shadows in the sunlight, and tumbleweeds rolled from one end of the street to the other, making a rustling sound.

Zhang Ying walked very fast, and Shen Yugang almost had to jog to keep up.

They returned to the front of the tavern.

The brown horse was tied to the wooden post by the door, its head bowed as it nibbled at the sparse grass on the ground. A saddle had already been placed on its back.

Jack was sitting on horseback, one hand holding the reins and the other adjusting his wide-brimmed hat, just about to leave.

Zhang Ying immediately called out to him.

"Jack! Don't rush off!"

Hearing the shout, Jack turned around and saw Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang. A smile appeared on his face. He pulled on the reins, dismounted, and moved swiftly.

"Hey, my friend," Jack dusted himself off and strode over. "What's up? Didn't you say you were going back to the caravan?"

Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang exchanged a glance.

Zhang Ying took a step forward, his expression natural and calm.

"Don't rush off, my friend," Zhang Ying said calmly, "I want to show you something."