[Falling into a nightmare, the copy is being generated...]
[Detected that the current copy has a special property: replay]
[The copy is being regenerated...]
[The difficulty of the dungeon is distorted, and the number of entries is unlimited]
[The current purification rate is 38/350]
[The current total erosion rate of the team is 8%, the difficulty of the dungeon increases by 8%, and the probability of nightmare distortion increases by 8%]
[This dungeon has 6 save points, each death increases the erosion rate by 2%]
[This dungeon does not provide the introduction of the plot, but there are rewards for decryption]
[Dungeon customs clearance rewards: the first two floors - up to 1 to 2 levels of any self-selected occupation below the bronze level (including the bronze level); the last four levels - up to 1 to 4 levels of any self-selected occupation below the silver level (including the bronze level)]
[Dungeon Decryption Reward: Unknown]
[Loading complete]
The world in front of Annan's eyes was pitch black, and the data flow was flowing downwards quickly.
At this moment, he suddenly felt a strong sense of vomiting in his stomach... This didn't seem to be an illusion. At least for Annan, he rarely experiences delusions.
After the data flow completely faded away, a faint and illusory whisper suddenly sounded in his ear:
"Do not look back… "
It was an old man's voice: "Never look back..."
The voice came from behind Annan, very old and weak, but extremely clear.
It was as if he was sticking tightly behind him, whispering in his ear.
Before Annan opened his eyes, he opened his panel with a thought.
In the dungeon, Annan can only see the health and erosion, but this is enough...
When Annan entered the capital before, what he heard about the team's total erosion rate made him a little uneasy.
This is a single book, isn't it...
After Annan opened the panel, two lines of numbers appeared in front of him:
Health: 56%
Erosion degree: 8%
... Sure enough, he had already died twice without knowing it.
"I really don't have any memory at all..."
Annan frowned slightly.
It's a little troublesome. Death cannot inherit memory... which means that mistakes are completely possible to repeat.
If someone else were here, he might feel panicked by this death cycle that he could never escape.
However, although Annan felt a little troublesome, he was not afraid in his heart.
If you want to ask why...
It is that he knows himself very well. To use a strange metaphor to describe it... It's like an audience.
His perception of himself is like how the audience recognizes a certain character in a film, television drama, movie, or animation. Because he is clear about everything that happened in the past, but he is not separated from it, so he can know why his feelings exist and what influence his decision is based on.
Even if there is no inherited memory. But as long as "Annan" is still the one who takes action in the first two weeks, then he has the confidence to decipher the information he left for himself—
Annan opened his eyes.
What presented before his eyes was a long and brightly lit gallery. The corridor was wide enough for ten people to walk abreast, without any decoration on either side.
There is a crystal-clear chandelier on the ceiling, and the burning candles shine through the chandelier, illuminating the entire corridor. Only at the end of the corridor, the open door was dark.
He looked down at himself, but couldn't identify himself from his clothes. It can only be roughly confirmed that this body is a male, in his thirties, his hands are clean and callous-free, and his clothes are simple and clean but the material is quite comfortable. At least there should be no financial pressure.
"Gallery... Is 'I' the painter?"
Annan speculated.
No hints, no plot introduction.
"Let me see..."
He murmured under his breath.
Annan noticed that his abdomen was slowly oozing blood.
From the perspective of pain, it should be stabbed with a dagger not long ago. Judging from the location, the possibility of internal organ damage is not ruled out.
"Ah, I'm hurt. I'm bleeding all over the floor."
He said calmly with no expression on his face.
And when he lowered his head to check his injuries, he unexpectedly discovered by observing his own shadow that the fire in this room was unusually stable.
There is no disturbing sense of light and shadow caused by the faint shaking of the candle flame when passing through the airflow.
Annan narrowed his eyes slightly, and walked inside immediately without rushing.
He recalled the strategy given to him by Padre Louis.
Just in case, Priest Lewis wrote a lot over and over again. But Annan can basically sum it up in three sentences:
First, don't focus on any painting, but don't close your eyes either.
Second, at all forks in the road, go to the side with the painting.
Third, no matter what happens, don't look back.
According to Priest Louis, as long as Annan strictly abides by the strategy above, he should be able to leave safely.
... So here comes the problem.
Why did Annan die here twice
"According to my habit, when I download the copy for the first time..."
Annan muttered: "I will definitely follow the strategy completely."
He knew in advance that death in this dungeon would lead to memory loss, so all his actions for a week must be "standard behaviors" that will provide reference for his later self.
The question is...how did he do it the second time around
When did he die these two times
"...It's kind of interesting."
The corners of Annan's mouth rose slightly.
When the crisis came, he clearly felt the joy and excitement coming from the depths of his heart.
He didn't look at any of the paintings, but walked forward slowly.
It's not that he doesn't want to walk fast, but because the wound in his abdomen has been dragging him. And when Annan wanted to forcefully walk faster, his health would suddenly drop.
"Is the movement speed limited..."
Annan murmured in a low voice.
If he were to design this level...
He would definitely set up a chase that would force the player character to trot and move. Overwhelm the player through the double fear of rapid health loss and the crisis behind him.
He narrowed his eyes slightly and walked to the end of the corridor.
Annan controlled the length of his steps and measured the length with his steps instead of his eyes.
"... exactly one hundred meters."
After he pushed open the door at the end of the corridor, he found an L-shaped corner in front of him, and turned right at the end of the corner.
This short corner is very dark, does not see any lighting, and is very narrow, less than three meters wide and short in length.
But there was a dim light at the end of the corner, which seemed to attract Annan to pass here quickly.
Everything is very dark here, Annan can only confirm that there are still many picture frames hanging on both sides. Almost every painting is a portrait.
He glanced over from the corner of his eye, and he was sure that the people on these picture frames were all staring at him.
"This time it's twenty meters."
He whispered.
When Annan walked through the first corner, he still didn't find anything special. On the other side of the corner is a narrow space less than ten meters away. It houses a collectible display case on the left, and a coat rack on the right.
But neither in the display case nor on the hangers. Everything is empty... as if swept by a player.
And there is a door at the end of this narrow space. The door was reddish brown and looked a little worn, but otherwise nothing special.
Annan smiled slightly, and opened the door calmly.
Then he saw the familiar, long, brightly lit gallery.
It's as if he's back where he started.
"... Ha. Ha ha ha ha!"
But watching this weird and horrifying scene, Annan couldn't help laughing out loud.
After he finished laughing, he walked into the gallery with a smile on his face, and closed the door behind him.
"T... I'm familiar with this."
Annan murmured in a low voice.
The corners of his mouth were raised strangely.