Chapter Fifty-Six: The Parrot’s Lament Draws to a Close

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The anti-idling mechanism mentioned by Wen Xishu arrived even sooner than expected.

Within the vast, item-filled office floor, a sweet laughter suddenly echoed. Though it should have been pleasant, the laughter came across as extremely eerie...

Apart from the three of them, no other living beings were present. Park Mihee felt the laughter settle on her scalp like a chill, making her skin crawl.

She felt cold.

Not just mentally, but the actual temperature was dropping.

Having witnessed Wen Xishu’s swift completion of the previous two stages, Park Mihee and Jung Jae began analyzing the situation with some confidence.

However, their conclusions left them in completely different mental states.

Both guessed the key lay in the phrase: “Trustworthy, entrust your back.”

Jung Jae thought: Wen, my younger brother, has saved me several times; my life is thanks to him. He’s absolutely trustworthy and someone I can rely on from behind.

Park Mihee, on the other hand, thought: Jung Jae harbors hatred in his heart—hatred for the bunker’s upper echelons. Wen Xishu also knows my identity...

I’m at least a beauty, yet Wen Xishu’s attitude toward me is completely different from how he treats Jung Jae... They clearly never considered me a friend, nor an ally.

Both found the crucial point, yet neither could decipher its true meaning.

The temperature kept dropping; the laughter showed no sign of stopping. If it continued, this office space would become a true ice chamber.

Wen Xishu sensed something was wrong:

“Interesting. The previous eerie feelings could be dispelled—either by hiding or by recording bad deeds... So how do we dispel this one? If this laughter doesn’t stop, the three of us will freeze to death here.”

He quickly realized something—“trustworthy” and “entrust your back” might be two separate hints.

These weren’t just overlapping phrases meant to boost morale, but two distinct pieces of information.

First, find a trustworthy teammate... then choose to entrust your back?

The laughter continued, growing louder, and their breaths formed frost. The temperature was plummeting dangerously.

Yet the laughter only intensified, showing no sign of abating. The cold bit deep, beginning to cloud their minds.

Wen Xishu barely managed to stay conscious and think clearly, while the other two remained aware but unable to figure out how to break the stalemate.

Wen Xishu said:

“Jung Jae, Park Mihee, if you want to survive, do as I say.”

“From now on, the three of us will stand back-to-back, maintaining a posture where each person’s back faces another.”

Jung Jae and Park Mihee realized that despite the laughter’s sweetness, it brought deadly cold.

They trusted Wen Xishu’s suggestion. Jung Jae, in particular, was absolutely convinced and immediately turned his back to Wen Xishu.

Park Mihee hesitated a moment but, seeing Jung Jae safe, quickly joined in.

Their backs soon pressed together.

Wen Xishu stood between Jung Jae on his left and Park Mihee on his right. The three formed a triangle, backs facing each other.

Once they were back-to-back, the laughter vanished. But the chill remained.

[So cold... but it doesn’t seem to be getting colder. Wen, you’re so reliable. I want to go back to the bunker.]

[Is this considered salvation? Why can’t I speak anymore...]

[Wait, that’s Park Mihee’s voice!]

After forming the back-to-back stance, Wen Xishu immediately noticed they were immobilized.

While pondering how the theme of betrayal might manifest, he suddenly heard Jung Jae’s voice.

Jung Jae’s inner thoughts, exactly as they were, were transmitted directly into Wen Xishu’s mind.

Jung Jae was also confused—he couldn’t speak his thoughts aloud because he simply couldn’t open his mouth.

At the same time, Park Mihee’s inner thoughts were transmitted to Jung Jae.

[Why is it still so cold...]

[The laughter seems to have stopped. Did Wen Xishu find that item? He’s so capable; he should be able to find it, right?]

[Once we clear this stage, I can go back. After that, I’ll never come to this eerie tower again!]

[Wait... that’s his voice. Wen Xishu’s voice!]

Indeed, Park Mihee heard Wen Xishu’s inner voice. It went as follows:

[Just as I suspected, no mistake—the “entrust your back” is literal. So could the theme of betrayal also manifest physically on the back?]

[Backstabbing... could it really mean growing spikes on the back? If so, that’s kind of interesting.]

[The current situation seems to be testing our level of trust. Hmm... wait, I can hear Jung Jae’s voice.]

[So that’s how it is. I get it. Park Mihee, you’re listening, right? Can you hear my voice?]

Wen Xishu’s sudden inner voice startled Park Mihee.

Meanwhile, Jung Jae heard this in his mind:

[This monster reacts too fast... Have I established some kind of psychic connection with him? He can hear my voice, and I can hear his?]

[No, maybe not... Then what about that pervert Jung Jae? Whose voice does he hear?]

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At the same time, Jung Jae’s inner thoughts were:

[Monster... she’s referring to Wen, my younger brother? That woman really doesn’t know what’s good for her.]

[As expected, in her eyes, I’m a pervert... What does Wen think of me?]

Naturally, Wen Xishu overheard Jung Jae’s thoughts.

He chuckled:

[This situation is really interesting. By the way, Park Mihee has saved you so many times, and you just call me monster? Haven’t you considered that this inner voice exchange might be some kind of voting system?]

This sentence was transmitted word for word to Park Mihee.

Park Mihee was shocked:

[He can hear my thoughts too? What voting system?]

Jung Jae: [Wen can hear Park Mihee’s thoughts? I can hear them anyway... What’s this voting system about?]

Wen Xishu had completely unraveled the logic.

The effect of standing back-to-back was that they could hear each other’s inner voices, with the transmission path as follows—

Wen Xishu’s thoughts went to Park Mihee, Park Mihee’s to Jung Jae, and Jung Jae’s to Wen Xishu.

Wen Xishu said: [Jung Jae truly is a trustworthy partner, Park Mihee.]

Park Mihee was stunned for a moment:

[Why is he telling me this? He actually sincerely trusts Jung Jae? He really is a monster, trusting that pervert. Wait, I can’t think like that.]

[He can hear my voice!]

These words were transmitted to Jung Jae.

Jung Jae’s expression darkened:

[I don’t want to be a cannibal, I really don’t! Mentally, I’m not a monster! I’ve already locked myself inside an iron cage!]

Jung Jae’s thoughts were transmitted to Wen Xishu, who said:

[Park Mihee, do you think there’s more to Jung Jae’s father’s case?]

Park Mihee wanted to hide her thoughts, but that’s easier said than done. Trying not to think about something often makes you think about it even more.

[Why is he so concerned about Jung Jae? I don’t know much about his father’s case. What’s his game? Is this what you should be focusing on right now? Hurry up and get us out of here!]

[Also, explain quickly—what is this voting system?]

Hearing this, Jung Jae felt somewhat moved:

[Wen... he really wants to help me! I always thought she was pitiful.]

[Turns out she only ever saw Wen as a tool? Although I don’t know what the voting system is, if I could speak, I’d never let Wen tell you!]

Wen Xishu was now in an extremely focused state:

[Voting system? Park Mihee, you’re curious? Fine, I’ll tell you.]

[Simply put, after the inner voice exchange phase ends, if we have no barriers or grudges in our hearts, we might have a brief chance to move and find the items that need purification.]

[But whether or not we do, I suspect there will be a phase to make a judgment based on our inner thoughts just now.]

[Guess what that judgment might be? Park Mihee, I’ll ask you a question: when you return to the bunker, which officer do you plan to report me to?]

Park Mihee was momentarily stunned, instinctively falling into a trap.

If Wen had asked whether she would report him, she might not have thought of her superior.

But since he asked which officer she would report him to, the first thought was obvious—who else but that person?

But as she realized she shouldn’t think of that officer, that officer’s name was already transformed into an inner voice.

[Damn it, this woman actually intends to report Wen? She really is a dog of the bunker!] Jung Jae immediately felt anger.

Wen Xishu said:

[One must learn to precisely control their thoughts, Park Mihee. This game is almost over. I actually gave you many chances...]

[If you were a bit smarter or more sincere, you could have seized them.]

The game was indeed nearing its end.

Two minutes remained.

They stood back-to-back for two minutes. In that brief time, Wen Xishu had already figured out both Jung Jae and Park Mihee.

This was a game of confession.

What made it clever was its resemblance to rock-paper-scissors.

Wen Xishu was the first to realize this and to exploit the voice transmission mechanism.

Inner voices alone couldn’t kill.

This was the eerie tower; in every phase, death was possible. Wen Xishu guessed correctly that after the voice exchange, a phase would come for final judgment.

And it did.

A prompt appeared:

“Having entrusted your back, you must have found the truly trustworthy companion. May your friendship last forever.”

“Please silently recite the name of the person you trust. Each person may name several, but not their own.”

“If your name does not appear in anyone’s list, you will be eliminated.”

Upon seeing this prompt, some rejoiced, others despaired. At that moment, the three regained their ability to move.

Wen Xishu had already guessed this phase the moment he heard their inner voices.

This was the so-called scoring phase.

In truth, he didn’t really trust Jung Jae or Park Mihee, but he wasn’t hung up on it. Some things, when not weighed, are light; but once put on the scales, a thousand pounds cannot be stopped.

If you focus on trust, it ultimately leads to no one trusting anyone.

When the question “Is he trustworthy?” arises, it breeds equal suspicion.

In times like this, attention should be diverted elsewhere.

Park Mihee dropped to her knees:

“Say my name! Give me another chance! I trust you both! I am trustworthy!”

She finally realized that she wasn’t dying from dishonesty, but from being both dishonest and foolish.

Knowing that inner voices could be transmitted, she should have immediately shifted her thoughts to other matters.

Wen Xishu shook his head:

“It’s too late. The voting has ended.”

The sound of flesh writhing and shifting filled the air. Park Mihee’s eyes instantly reddened, her face flushed from suffocation.

With a sharp crack, she could no longer speak—because a huge fleshy spike had grown from her back.

She had truly become a “backstabber” in the literal sense.

Wen Xishu did not look back. He said:

“Jung Jae, thank you for your trust. We can return to the bunker. Congratulations on surviving the eerie tower challenge.”

Park Mihee died just like that, the spike in her back like a blade piercing through her.

Jung was stunned but quickly reacted:

“No... don’t say that. Thank you too. I’m sure she didn’t name us. If you hadn’t named me either, I’d have died in this last phase, right?”

Wen Xishu nodded:

“Yes. If neither of us names the other, we both die.”

“This game judges whether someone is trustworthy through inner voices, and at the same time... entrusts one’s life or death to another.”

“Resentment is mutual. If you don’t give others a chance to survive, they might do the same to you.”

Jung sighed:

“Good thing... we’re teammates and she didn’t betray you.”

By now, Wen Xishu had climbed onto a desk. Although the items here were huge, Wen Xishu was a seasoned freerunner; climbing floors was no trouble.

He found the item needing purification—a group photo. Tang Rui had mentioned this graduation photo, which sat on her desk.

He touched the photo and decisively purified it.

Jung had been worried but was fully relieved when a prompt appeared in his mind:

“Congratulations on surviving the Trial of the Parrot’s Lament and participating in all scenes. You will soon return to the guide to receive your mission rating and rewards.”

Jung exhaled deeply, suddenly feeling tired.

Though the climb was smooth, he knew several phases were truly perilous—all thanks to Wen Xishu.

He resolved that once back at the bunker, he would find a way to meet Wen Xishu and express his gratitude. If he received any supplies or rewards, he would gladly give them to Wen.

Unaware of Jung’s goodwill, Wen Xishu also received a prompt, though different from Jung’s:

“You have purified all items found by yourself. You have obtained the special item [Letter from Outside · Tang Rui], which contains a special artifact. Proceed to the guide to inspect it.”

“Affinity with Eerie · Tang Rui increased to 100.”

“Your frequent exploration of the eerie tower and high completion rate have drawn the attention of more than one special entity.”

“Eerie · Gemini affinity +1, Eerie · Virgo affinity +1.”

“Unlocked the recruitment condition for Slaughter · Tang Rui. Slaughter · Tang Rui affinity increased to 100.”

“You have completed the Parrot’s Lament series quest. You will soon proceed to the three towers’ guide to receive your mission rating and claim rewards.”

His watch began to contract, biting into his wrist. At that moment, the world in Wen Xishu’s eyes began to blur, and that familiar sensation returned.

He and Jung disappeared simultaneously.

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