Zongman: Harem's Music

Nishimiya Tsukasa handed over a box of juice and sucked on the straw himself.

"A horror novel?! Why did Mr. B die? Who are those men in black?"

The more scared, the more interested.

This is how girls feel about urban legends.

Looking at Sagiri's curious little face, Nishimiya Tsugumi thought for a moment and said, "It should be considered science fiction, a soft science fiction suspense!"

Chapter 697: One-day prisoner!

February 9.

The Shengwen short story collection will be launched as scheduled.

When more than three hundred participating authors sent their novels to the relevant section of Shengwen Publishing House, the articles also became available to readers.

The time limit for uploading novels is one day.

However, it will take two weeks for Shengwenshe’s official website to start sending verification codes for ratings.

The intention is to ensure that every reader has read every author's novel as much as possible before becoming a judge, so as to dilute the advantages of each author's popularity and number of fans as much as possible.

Gravelight.

After publishing the short story she had prepared, Meiyuanhua returned to the homepage of the section. The first article in the first row, "Mr. B" by Wu Wei, had been read 2800 times, and "Sunny Day" by Yamada Yaojing had also been read 800 times.

One is a respected senior, and the other is this time's opponent.

Of course, I wanted to see the works of both of them, but Mei Yuanhua clicked on "Mr. B" first.

Here, on this day, I have been imprisoned for ten years!

The scene is not big, and almost everything happens at the front desk of the hotel, which is in line with the usual style of short stories. Although it is from the perspective of the hotel manager, the real core is Mr. B, and the atmosphere of horror and suspense is also rendered to the extreme.

Seeing the perspective turn to Mr. B through the text on the wall, Meiyuanhua took a deep breath and clicked the next page.

I committed a crime, and the judge sentenced me to one day of life imprisonment. My life will be spent repeating this cycle over and over again within 24 hours until I die of natural causes. And my cage, the prison where I am imprisoned, is the day they randomly chose for me: August 18, 1778.

The upside is that I can serve my sentence in a busy city and do everything without leaving the city, except inform people about my situation.

At first, I didn’t realize how terrible this criminal law was. I looked at the city outside the window and didn’t worry about the future at all. I had a very happy first day. I met my neighbor’s mother-in-law, went to the park and the coffee shop. Everything was so new. I didn’t come back here until I was exhausted from walking around the streets.

Wake up.

It was August 18th again, and I ran into the grandmother next door. She told me the same thing as yesterday. On my way to the coffee shop for breakfast, I realized everything was exactly the same as yesterday, more stable than the master list. And I felt like I had walked into an old movie. I knew everything here, and no one else knew anything about it. At first, I didn't feel scared, and I even had a sense of transcendence. I knew what everyone was going to do next, their names, their family situation, everything about them.

I also used these things to play tricks on others.

Even to sow discord.

Even being cuckolded.

What does it matter?

Everything will be back to normal the next day and I don't have to answer to anyone.

Gradually.

I'm starting to get tired of it.

The day that never passes is terrible. It goes from fresh to stale and even vicious, and I go from happy to tired and even angry.

Every time 24 hours pass, I will be pulled back to the starting point, seeing the people I have met and repeating the things I have done. I will never have a tomorrow. I understand the horror of this criminal law. It is true loneliness isolated from the world.

I couldn't stand this trick of time anymore, so I started planning a jailbreak.

I tried to drive out of the city, but always ended up drowsy and back in bed in this room on the morning of August 18th.

I spent midnight out in the suburbs, trying to defy the curse of time, and when I returned it was three in the morning, but I still had to go back to that little house, the heart of the prison, to sleep.

I still didn't give up and fantasized about entering the hotel at a certain special time to break the curse of time.

I walked into the building at exactly midnight and asked you what time it was and what day it was.

"It's almost twelve o'clock. Today is of course August 18th."

This is how you answer the post * book! Group 9: 8,02:0585/6, by Dai Dai. Posted, self.

At this moment, I felt that I was about to succeed. I stared at you excitedly for a while, and then asked you what day and time it was?

Only a few seconds passed, and you seemed to have forgotten everything that happened before: "August 18th, 12:01, when did you come down?"

I'm desperate.

Death is better than this, right?

I tried jumping from the seventh floor.

But when I woke up, it was still the morning of August 18th, in the bed in this room.

Until natural death!

Only then did I recall the meaning of these eyes.

Rape, murder, robbery, gunfight

I tried everything I had never dared to do before. Except for the time when I was shot dead by the police during a robbery, all the other things disappeared when I woke up, like a real dream.

After countless reincarnations, I no longer even had the anger or the mentality of giving up on myself. When even death was not an option, I finally calmed down and learned to think.

I began to study the concept of time, trying to understand my situation. If I could understand this, I could find the right solution.

I began a long period of reading, observing, and pondering, and came up with a list of possibilities:

The first one is the simplest and also my first conclusion.

Every time I return to zero, I enter a parallel world, a world in which everything is new except me.

However, this conclusion is not valid because one time you suddenly asked me, "Have you found the thing you lost?"

I think I must have lost something in one of the later cycles. It happened later for me, but before for you.

Sure enough, one day later, I lost my wallet.

The second conclusion:

I kept returning to August 18th, repeating my life over and over again, 3,650 times. But if I kept doing this, the amount of materials I'd consumed over the past ten years, such as water and electricity, would far exceed the total daily usage of all the other rooms in this hotel. Wouldn't anyone notice this?

My last guess is that every time a day passes, I'm pulled out of this world, and then the world's time goes back to what it was 24 hours ago, and then I'm thrown into this world again. This means that no matter what I've done in the past ten years, onlookers will only remember what I did on the new day. But what about the wallet issue?

I think.

If I could project my daily actions onto sheets of transparent paper, then the actions and deeds I've done over the past decade, 200 of them, would appear to others like an image viewed from above, stacked on top of 3,000 sheets of paper? Everything I've done over 3,000 days is superimposed on a single day, and thus multiple versions of me appear to others, yet I will never encounter any other versions of myself.

I'm about to die, but I still don't understand what time is. Fortunately, I experienced the joy of thinking before I died, and my sentence was not so boring. Goodbye, my friend, you will forget me today and walk into a tomorrow that I can't imagine. Goodbye.

Jon took off his glasses and the wall was white.

Take a look at the time.

It's already half past eleven.

At half past eleven?

Jon suddenly became excited. Mr. B had written on the wall that he had returned at exactly midnight, hoping to break the cycle through him. Now there was less than half an hour left before the end of the time cycle. He had a way to verify Jon's guess. If one Mr. B was dead, but another Mr. B came back at exactly twelve o'clock, what a weird scene it would be, and what should he say to that Mr. B?

With hope.

Jon sat nervously at the bar, staring at the world outside the window.

It's almost twelve o'clock, outside the window

The night is foggy.

(Finish)

Meiyuanhua got goosebumps after reading it.

The two first-person perspectives piece together the complete story like a puzzle, from the initial suspense to the inexplicable weirdness at the end. Although there is no such thing as gods or ghosts, it is still extremely creepy.

Chapter 698 Fly Away Warning!

"Little flower?"

"Eh!??"

Meiyuanhua, who was still savoring the plot, almost jumped up because of the figure behind her.

"What are you looking at? You're so startled!"

The middle-aged man in kimono sat aside with a smile.

"Dad? Why are you walking without making any sound?!"

Meiyuanhua scolded him, then suddenly remembered something. She spun the laptop around and pushed it towards her face with a hint of pride, as if she were presenting a treasure, or a little like a child who had been looked down upon by his parents and wanted to redeem himself. "Don't you always look down on light novels? Look at this! This is written by the light novel author!"

"Hmm? That Wu Wei again?"

Umezono Rintaro smiled and said, "Skeletons can talk? A person gets transplanted with the organs of a ghoul and becomes a monster? Maybe I'm getting old and don't really understand what you young people like these days!"

Meiyuan Huaqiao's face turned cold, "That's because you always look at people through tinted glasses, Mr. Meiyuan Rintaro, the contemporary novelist!"

Contemporary novelist.

Rintaro Umezono is a writer known to everyone of his time. He represents an era, a representative figure of Japanese samurai fiction and a pillar of traditional literature. (He can be considered the Jin Yong or Gu Long of Japan.)

Traditional literature generally does not welcome emerging literature based on the Internet.

This is a recognized fact.

Although Rintaro Umezono is not as old-fashioned as most traditional writers, he still smiles when light novels are mentioned.

Looking at his daughter's increasingly terrifying eyes, Umezono Rintaro shook his head helplessly.

I don't know when this kid started to like light novels. I kept recommending him a book called "Wuwei" and wrote my own.

But the sales are pretty good!

This made him, a traditional author, not sure whether to be happy or angry.

Umezono Rintaro: "What type?"

Meiyuanhua: "Suspense and science fiction!"

"Humph~"

Seeing his father sitting down obediently and starting to watch "Mr. B", Mei Yuanhua nodded with satisfaction.

"Sigh~"

Umezono Rintaro, who was unable to resist his daughter's pretense, unconsciously straightened his sitting posture. After seeing his father fall into the trap, Umezono Hana took out his mobile phone and entered Shengwenshe to watch.

Mr. B Review:

My kidneys are dropping: That’s awesome, Teacher Wu!

All of them are mine: It’s terrifying when you think about it!!

Linxia Linxia: Will Mr. B show up?

Dadadada: The loop is built around Mr. B. Mr. B is dead, the loop has ended, and of course he will not appear. Not only will he not appear, but Jon will completely forget about this person after twelve o'clock.

God descends to earth: I disagree with the above. The end and starting point of the loop are 12:01. Before that, the loop has not ended yet. Mr. B should appear for the last time.

5 km per second: I disagree with the above comment. The author has already hinted that all of Mr. B's theories are wrong. The wallet issue remains unexplained. Even if Mr. B only went out once a day and returned once a day over the course of 3,600 days over ten years, he would have passed the front desk over 7200 times. Jon didn't encounter Mr. B that many times. Clearly, the Mr. B he encountered was only a part of his life, not his entire life. Therefore, it's uncertain whether Mr. B will appear one last time. The open ending of "Teacher Wuwei" is likely a hint at this.

A Cup of Milk Tea: I agree with the above. Whether or not he appears is not important; what matters is Mr. B's experience. Only when one loses even the right to die can one discover the joy of thinking. What is the author hinting at?

I am a killer: Mr. B will definitely appear. He successfully breaks out of the cage and lives a happy life with Jon. (Funny~)

I am really handsome: The rotten girl above, identification completed.

Suspenseful theme + open ending = lively discussion!

The comments section is where all of this is happening.

After reading the comments, Meiyuanhua turned her gaze to her father who was staring at her.

"Hmm~"

Meiyuanhua raised the corner of her mouth proudly: "Not bad, right?!"

"Don't speak yet!"