My Healing Games

Chapter 817, Fifty-One Floors

Han Fei has not yet met the conditions to leave the game, and no matter what happens in reality, he cannot leave.

Although he felt somewhat uneasy, he decided to continue exploring. If he couldn't balance reality and the Deep World, he would choose to stay in the Deep World, because there were simply too many things he couldn't give up here.

“The dancer’s belongings are in the safe house on the 50th floor. Why don’t we go and retrieve them first?” Mr. Mo said, holding the nearly broken radio. “The dancer said that the items in the safe house might be able to help us leave the building.”

Do you know exactly which floor it is?

“The radio can still be used once more…” Mr. Mo made up his mind: “I have a very bad feeling right now. It’s like my whole body is being submerged in an invisible sea, and there’s a force pulling my body down and making me sink. So I want to finish the last thing the dancer asked me to do while I’m still conscious.”

Mr. Mo was also affected by the unspeakable influence. No one could see it at all. They only stepped onto the 50th floor where it was located and were crushed on a spiritual level. This was the true power of the unspeakable influence.

"Alright." Under the unspeakable pressure, everyone decided to first determine the location of the dancers' rooms.

Han Fei found an empty house, had Da Nie guard the door, and the rest of the men guard the passage.

The nearly broken radio was placed in front of Da Nie's body. Mr. Mo took off his coat and placed it under the radio, and black flames instantly ignited: "Now, let it inject the soul poison and obsession!"

Screams came from the radio, and the edges began to crumble.

The Soul Poison fell, and the screams from the radio grew louder and louder. When the radio casing was completely shattered, everyone saw a cursed ear and half a disfigured face.

It was still bleeding, as if it had just been cut off.

"Is this what the radio really looks like? The dancer hugs his severed ear every day? What is he listening to?"

"That was a gift from his best friend! Quickly, find out the location of the safe house!" Mr. Mo's body was burning along with his clothes; he himself seemed to be a book filled with the word "death."

“We’ve reached the 50th floor. Where is the room you used to stay in?” Han Fei shouted into the ear.

The disfigured half of a human face trembled amidst black fire and soul poison, and the voice of a dancer emanated from its torn mouth.

"I live on the 80th floor. The first safe house is on the 51st floor. It was the taboo on that floor that helped me. Don't disturb anyone. Go secretly to a cemetery full of tombstones! Remember! Be careful of the mirrors! The mirrors in the building are unclean!"

The dancer wanted to convey more information, but the half-face seemed to have suddenly seen something terrifying. It melted away in the black fire, turning into a pool of corpse water.

"The dancer was able to escape from the skyscraper because of a taboo that secretly helped her. I'm a little curious about the other party's identity."

"Don't be curious about others, let's mind our own business." The terrified boy next to Ji Zheng seemed about to lose control again. Ji Zheng held his head, but it had no effect. Something invisible to the naked eye was constantly stimulating the child.

"What do you think the powers of the gods are?" Han Fei realized he was getting lost. It was an irreversible process. He knew he was in a deeper world, but everything around him was slowly converging towards reality. Perhaps at some point, he would be immersed in it and never be able to leave.

Han Fei clearly remembered that when he faced the statue, just one statue was enough to seal all his abilities and trap him in a special area.

“The biggest difference between unspeakable hatred and ordinary hatred is that the area they inhabit belongs only to themselves.” After burning his outer garment, Mr. Mo became much weaker. “If we compare this world to a colossal first-generation demon, then we are all souls living inside this demon’s body, and we need to live according to the rules of the first-generation demon. But the unspeakable has broken free from the constraints of those rules; they can be considered new demons.”

Upon hearing Mr. Mo's words, Han Fei suddenly recalled what he had heard about the classification of ghosts' strength when he was in Happiness Community.

Regret, resentment, and hatred are not called ghosts; they are simply emotions that are constantly fermenting.

"You two better not talk nonsense. Saying these things in this unspeakable place, are you looking for death?" Ji Zheng kicked away the ashes on the ground and walked forward with the frightened boy in his arms: "Since you know the safe house is on this floor, then stop dawdling. This kid is about to collapse."

Even though he had fallen to the position of night watchman, the softer part of Ji Zheng's heart remained unchanged. He was not the best reporter, but undeniably, he was once the most popular reporter.

“If you’re looking for burial mounds, I can help.” Li Rou cut her wrist and clenched the blood flowing from her veins. As a half-deformed ghost, she could sense the location of the large burial mounds nearby: “There are very few burial mounds on this floor; they’re concentrated in the north.”

Han Fei and his group initially headed south without encountering anything unusual. However, as they began to move northwards, all sorts of strange things started happening.

The paper figures that were originally staying at home hid behind the door and peeked at Han Fei through the crack in the door. They seemed to come alive the moment Han Fei made his decision and pointed at him.

Even though he knew they were paper figures, Han Fei still had a strange feeling, as if he had returned to a day in reality where everyone treated him as an oddity.

"Verbal violence is terrible, but luckily I'm used to it."

In Han Fei's mind, these fifty-one floors were like a place where children played house. Perhaps the gods had simply built this place into a toy for them, and when they wanted to experience certain emotions, they would come here and treat the paper figures as family and friends.

As Li Rou walked through the two long corridors, a ball suddenly rolled out of the doorway.

The security door opened, and a chubby little boy with rosy cheeks ran out. He picked up the ball sheepishly and said, "I'm sorry..."

Before he could finish his apology, the chubby boy saw the hideous monster. He stood there dumbfounded, his trousers soaked through.

Why are there children on the floor with the paper figures?

"Don't be careless!" Ji Zheng took out his camera to take a picture. The little fat boy's figure was pierced by two ropes of fate that were completely different colors, one as black as ink and the other as red as blood: "This child seems to be a totalitarian!"

At the same time as Ji Zheng's warning, the little fat boy screamed. He was so frightened that he sat down on the ground, shouting for his father and mother.

The impressive security door was pushed open completely, and two paper monsters crawled out.

My mother is like a centipede, with a hundred tiny claws, her body wriggling and crawling, constantly cursing and hurling insults at someone.

My father has only one leg, but he is as strong as a monster. Every time he jumps, a lot of black paper pieces fall off his body.

“This child seems to be a childhood playmate of the god. As one of the god’s friends, the god killed his parents and turned him into someone like himself.” Ji Zheng seemed to have heard the story of this chubby child before: “It seems that the paper figures on the 51st floor are all rushing this way. Don’t waste time with him, it’s pointless.”

Han Fei nodded, gesturing for everyone to follow Da Nie closely: "Charge! Find the cemetery first!"

The wound on Da Nie's head had healed, so everyone ignored the little fat boy and rushed north with all their might.

The neglected chubby boy cried even louder on the spot. One by one, paper figures emerged from the room, gazing in the direction Han Fei had left, their faces gradually changing.

Some of the paper figures gradually resembled Ji Zheng in appearance, while others looked more and more like Mr. Mo. However, many more of the paper figures began to have the same appearance as Han Fei.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. The chubby boy slowly raised his head, his face covered in tears, but his mouth was twisted to the sides, revealing his uneven teeth.

"Mom, Dad, I don't want my birthday present anymore, I want you to help me kill him."

The paper doll-like mother berated the boy, while the one-legged father remained unmoved. The two family members who looked most like monsters hoped the boy would change his mind, but the seemingly most normal boy had a ferocious expression on his face: "My best friend said you would definitely grant my wish!"

He pulled a seemingly ordinary playing card from his pocket; the card on it was the King of Clubs.

"Kill him! Just like you ran over that pedestrian with your car! Kill him!"

The chubby boy became increasingly agitated. He twisted the King of Clubs, clutched his head, and kept ordering his parents around.

His mind seemed to have already broken down, as if only in this way could he become a friend of the gods.

One by one, the chubby boy revealed the secrets that couldn't be told. The paper doll's parents lost their minds and turned around to chase after Han Fei. But at that moment, a very discordant footstep sounded from the fifty-first floor.

Wherever the footsteps passed, all the paper figures that had transformed into Han Fei's face were mercilessly torn to shreds, and a woman who had gone mad chased after them.

The black flames of hatred spread, and the chubby boy's body trembled slightly; he truly felt fear.

His face contorted in pain, and he sat on the ground, shouting his best friend's name: "Happy! I did what you said! Help me! Help me!"

The best friend did not appear, but the parents, who had long since turned into monsters, returned and stood on either side of the chubby boy.

(End of this chapter)