Personality V: I will save everything

the other side,

Efron's fingertips groped haphazardly across the dusty wall, tracing the rough texture of the brickwork until they finally touched a cold, protruding metal switch.

With a soft "click," several dusty incandescent bulbs overhead suddenly lit up, their dim yellow light piercing the darkness and exposing the scene before everyone's eyes without reservation—the next second, screams rose and fell, tearing apart the deathly silence.

This is no ordinary room; it is clearly a slaughterhouse, a living hell.

Rusty iron hooks hang from the beams, but what dangles from chickens, ducks, pigs, and sheep are not the bodies of chickens, ducks, pigs, or sheep; instead, they are pieces of human remains that have been brutally dismembered.

The pale arms hung limply, the dark red blood clots at the cuts already blackened; the torso was severed at the waist, the exposed organs sticky with murky mucus; even the intact legs and feet were hung haphazardly like livestock meat for sale in a market, dripping liquid down the iron hooks and pooling on the ground into nauseating stains.

The glass jar in the corner was filled with murky formalin, containing swollen and deformed internal organs that gleamed eerily bluish-white under the light. The stench of fish and decay mingled together, rushing into the nostrils and making one's stomach churn.

Efron’s scream caught in his throat, and his back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He snapped back to his senses and instinctively reached out to cover the eyes of Itaquya and Matthias beside him, feeling the warmth of their skin and their rapid breathing in his palm.

"Don't look! No one is allowed to look!" His voice trembled uncontrollably, and his fingertips turned slightly white from the force he exerted.

But light travels faster than any reaction, and the terrifying scene was already branded into the eyes of the two children.

Efron's heart clenched. He imagined the children would be screaming in agony or collapsing to the ground in terror—after all, such a bloody and cruel scene would be unbearable even for adults, let alone two young children.

Unexpectedly, Itaquya and Matthias did not cry or make a fuss. They simply stood frozen in place, their eyes fixed straight ahead, their pupils dilated to the extreme, their faces expressionless, like puppets whose pause button had been pressed.

Yes, Efron thought bitterly to himself. Such a terrifying scene, beyond comprehension, must have already terrified the two children into a daze. Their silence was more chilling than any cry or scream.

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However, in reality...

Itakua was indeed startled by the sudden sight of bloodshed, his pupils contracted slightly, and his fingertips instinctively clenched the hem of his clothes, but it was only a momentary shock.

After all, the harsh environment he had endured during those years living with his mother in the snowy plains had hardened his mind.

To protect his mother from roaming bandits and predators, he had personally ended many lives. The feeling of the cold blade cutting through flesh and the sticky feeling of warm blood splattering on his face were no longer unfamiliar memories to him.

The hanging limbs before him, though bloody and gruesome, were far less dangerous than the bloody battles he had fought for survival years ago. He was already used to them and naturally wasn't particularly sensitive to them.

As for Matthias, he was incredibly calm. Who even remembers how Percy joined the estate?

Yes, it was on that dark and stormy night that Andrew led Matthias into the suburban cemetery, intending for Matthias to see his own grave one last time, symbolizing a complete farewell to the past world.

But they stumbled upon Percy's secret—the strange man obsessed with human resurrection research was squatting beside a newly dug grave, carefully prying open the coffin, trying to steal the recently buried body back for his experiments.

To prevent the matter from being exposed, Percy simply took the two children back to his laboratory.

That place was a hundred times more horrifying than this "slaughterhouse" in front of us: intact corpses soaked in various chemicals, mutilated organs piled up haphazardly in the corners, dark brown bloodstains splattered on the walls, and twisted remains left after failed experiments. Even the air was filled with the pungent smell of formaldehyde mixed with stench.

Even when faced with such a hellish scene, Matthias merely glanced at the bottles and jars with interest, without even blinking. The sight before him was nothing more than a drop in the ocean compared to the vastness of the earth.

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Oh, right, and by the way,

It's likely that some people have already seen through the cruel core of this game—it's never a random hunt, but rather a precise targeting of the deepest fears in people's hearts, weaving them into an inescapable cage.

Just like in Joker's obsession with finding his wife, there is always that puppeteer in a ballet tutu, spinning and approaching, the skirt sweeping across the ground with cold malice.

Naib wanders around in the endless labyrinth, with familiar yet strange sights at every turn. The despair of never finding an exit is the cruelest replica of the obsession with "being unable to go home."

Percy's predicament here is far more ironic than others'—at the heart of this game is the human experiment he orchestrated years ago.

The pain he regarded as "data" and the cries of agony he ignored have now transformed into vines of fear that entwine him, trapping him forever in the hell he created.

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Having discovered a part of himself, Efron thought he should feel fear, but among the surging emotions in his heart, fear was just the tip of the iceberg; what was deeper was an uncontrollable nausea and chills.

To twist the most heart-wrenching traumas and the most unbearable pain in someone else's life into a tragic and absurd hunting game—what kind of dark and perverse thoughts does the organizer harbor to find pleasure in this?

But this was clearly not the time to delve into those matters. Every second of delay could mean certain death; they had to escape as quickly as possible.

Efron forced himself to calm down and sort out the emerging pattern: from adults to children, Naib's labyrinth, Joker's doll, Percy's experimental hell, following this sequence, the next one would inevitably be himself.

He dared not think too deeply about it, yet he couldn't control the images that surfaced in his mind—that enormous, cold water tank, the one that had mercilessly swallowed his family and shattered his world. Efron had no doubt that if he were to confront that nightmarish scene again, he would most likely succumb to utter despair.

But.............

He clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, and a resolute glint flashed in his eyes.

At least..........

We need to send the children away.

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Fortunately, the hanging chunks of flesh did not attack proactively like the ballet dolls before—the way to survive here was actually simple and brutal: as long as you kept your head down and closed your eyes as tightly as possible, and did not look at the limbs with dark red blood droplets and blurred muscle texture, you could barely pass through.

But plans can never keep up with unexpected events.

Percy's tall body was now slumped on the ground, as if all the bones had been removed. His legs were too weak to support his weight, his face was as pale as paper, his teeth were chattering, and he couldn't even crawl.

It would be a lie to say that it wasn't embarrassing for such a big guy to be so scared, but Efron had no intention of mocking him at all.

He understood that fear all too well—the despair of being choked by the deepest nightmare.

If it were him, and the next scene was a water tank swallowing his family, he might not be any calmer than Percy, and might even break down more completely.

Without delay, Efron made a quick decision: "Itacua, hold Matthias's hand and don't let him look around!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already bent down to help the limp Percy up, put one of the other’s arms on his shoulder, and struggled to drag him forward.

Normally, as long as they kept their heads down and quickened their pace, they could pass through smoothly. However, when they passed a piece of flesh that barely maintained its human shape, a strange change occurred. The neck of the flesh was twisted at a strange angle, and the empty eye sockets were facing Matthias. Suddenly, a sticky, black hand reached out and grabbed the child's collar!

Itaquya was leading Matthias ahead, his attention focused on the road beneath his feet and the exit ahead, completely unaware of the danger behind him. By the time he vaguely heard the noise, it was too late to turn around.

Efron, who was following behind, saw everything clearly. His heart clenched suddenly, and he instinctively wanted to rush over and push Matthias away. However, he was carrying Percy, a big guy, on his shoulder, and his movements were clumsy and restricted. His fingertips were just about to touch the child's clothes when he was tripped by the heavy drag and was ultimately a step too slow!

At the critical moment, no one expected that the person standing in front of Matthias would be Percy, who had been dominated by fear.

The man, who had been limp and trembling the whole time, suddenly found astonishing courage. He abruptly broke free from Efron's support, pressed his broad but trembling back against the humanoid mass of flesh, and said in a hoarse voice with a do-or-die determination: "Run!"

Efron's pupils contracted sharply as he instantly realized what was happening. He immediately bent down and picked up Matthias, while his other hand gripped Itaquya's wrist tightly, practically dragging the two of them forward at breakneck speed.

Percy used all his strength to resist the tearing flesh, using his own body to buy them the most precious time to escape—he finally showed courage this time, protecting those who should have been protected by him.

But the price of this courage was a crisp, ear-piercing "snap".

The humanoid mass of flesh that suddenly came to life used superhuman strength to snap Percy's neck.

Warm blood splattered on the cold ground, mingling with the surrounding stench, becoming the final testament to his courage.

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Efron held Matthias tightly, gripping Itacua's wrist, and rushed forward with all his might—he had no idea where this hellish place ended or where the next trap would be. His only thought was to get as far away as possible from the humanoid mass of flesh behind them that had snapped Percy's neck.

He remembered that the monster still had cold iron hooks hanging from its body, the tips of which were stained with Percy's warm blood. If they could create enough distance, they might be safe for the time being.

The wind whistled in his ears, and he could vaguely hear the heavy thud of chunks of flesh being dragged behind him. Each landing felt like a hammer blow to his heart, urging him to not stop for even a moment.

Just as he was pushing off with his feet, trying to run faster, something unexpected happened—the ground beneath his feet suddenly disappeared without warning, as if someone had pressed an invisible delete key, and the solid touch instantly vanished into nothingness.

A sudden feeling of weightlessness gripped him, and Efron felt the world spinning around him as his body plummeted uncontrollably. Matthias in his arms let out a short gasp, and Itaquya's hand trembled slightly in his palm.

The fall didn't last long, but it felt like an eternity.

Efron instinctively pulled Matthias into his arms, while holding Itacua tightly with his other hand, bracing himself for the impact with the hard ground.

The expected excruciating pain did not come. Instead, there was a soft touch. Their bodies crashed heavily onto the thick snow. Snowflakes flew everywhere, and the icy coldness instantly soaked through their clothes, but it also cushioned the impact of the fall, saving the three from being smashed to pieces.

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the other side,

"Are you okay?"

Naib's voice was slightly hoarse, his gaze still fixed on the direction where Percy had fallen. His fingertips unconsciously touched his neck—there was nothing wrong there, yet a sharp pain shot through him, as if a cold force was gripping his throat, trying to snap his bones.

He knew better than anyone that this was nothing but a false illusion woven by the game, and all the fear, pain, and even death were just a carefully designed play.

But that "crack" sound was too real, the crisp sound carrying the dull, heavy feeling of bone breaking, like an ice-cold awl piercing into one's eardrum.

As someone who had been on the battlefield, Naib had an almost instinctive sensitivity to the sounds of death and pain.

The sharp sound of a knife slicing through flesh, the muffled thud of a bullet piercing bone, the whimpers and cracking bones of the dying... these memories are etched into my very bones.

The sound he just heard was exactly the same as the countless real scenes he had experienced. It was so real that it made him feel like he was back on that battlefield amidst gunfire, smelling the mingled scents of gunpowder and blood.

"It's okay, don't worry—I'm really fine."

Percy immediately spoke up to comfort him, his gaze falling on Naib's tense profile, his eyes filled with knowing gentleness.

He knew all too well how Naib felt at that moment. His usually sharp and bright eyes were now clouded with an inescapable gloom, and his fingertips were unconsciously pressed against his neck, clearly because the real, piercing sound of bones cracking had stirred up past shadows.

The wounds etched on the battlefield never fade easily; those memories of pain and death are often easily awakened by the slightest sound.

"That's right, Naib!"

A light, cheerful voice came from behind. Natasha walked forward with light steps, gently patting Naib's shoulder with her hand; the warmth of her palm was comforting.

"It'll be your turn to take the challenge soon. Would you like to try my lemon cake first?"

She smiled and handed over a small paper box. When it was opened, the fresh aroma of lemon mixed with the sweet and soft scent of wheat instantly filled the air. The golden cake surface was also decorated with fine frosting, which looked soothing.

The scars left on the battlefield may never be completely erased, but the careful care, the just-right companionship, and the gentle sedimentation of time can always smooth out the wrinkles in our hearts little by little, just like the sweet and sour taste of this lemon cake, which can dispel the oppression and fear in the air at this moment.

"it is good."