Chapter 321: Invasion of the Brain Cells (21)

Chapter 321: Invasion of the Brain Cells (21)

After their conversation, Feng Bu Jue and Succubus had reached a "protocol." At this point, Succubus shifted from the monster faction to an Npc faction, abandoning her hostile intentions.

However, the system gave no prompt regarding this. Whether to release the Succubus after obtaining the key remained Feng Bu Jue's own decision.

"Hmm..." Feng Bu Jue first examined the key for several seconds, checking its item description.

[Name: Cursed Key]

[Type: Plot-Related]

[Quality: Common]

[Function: Holder will be doomed (This item cannot be discarded, destroyed, or traded)]

[Can Be Taken Out of Scenario]

[Background: Consumed after opening the corresponding door.]

Seeing the key's effects immediately reminded Feng Bu Jue of the second message: [When You Think You've Gained What You Want, You've Already Lost More].

"Ah... I think I understand why you got trapped on my bed now", Feng Bu Jue muttered.

"I just had bad luck", Succubus replied. "Your room is so small. After phasing through the wall, I flew forward just one meter and was already above the bed. Who would've thought... someone actually used Solomon's Ritual Array as a bedsheet pattern?"

From her response, she clearly didn't know the nature of the Cursed Key.

Feng Bu Jue wasn't surprised—he completely understood why. The perspective of scenario characters differed from his own as an Otherworld Traveler.

To Succubus, this was just a key. If no one told her it brought misfortune to its holder, she naturally wouldn't know.

From a player's perspective, however, he could directly view the item's description through the game menu.

Of course, the player perspective came with its own issues. For example, Succubus could hand over the key, but Feng Bu Jue could no longer discard or transfer it.

"Can I ask where you got this key?" Feng Bu Jue asked again.

"The Boss asked me to deliver it to you", Succubus replied.

"Huh?" Feng Bu Jue expressed confusion. "He sent you to deliver something to me, yet you didn't explain your intentions upfront? Instead, you kept trying to lure and kill me after falling into the trap."

"Who said I wanted to kill you?" Succubus patted the bed edge, giving a seductive smile. "When I called you over just now, was it necessarily to kill you? Couldn't I have done something else? I could've given you the key afterward too."

Hearing this, Feng Bu Jue reconsidered. It seemed this line truly embodied the message: [When You Think You've Gained What You Want, You've Already Lost More].

But he also understood that Terrifying Paradise wouldn't include explicit erotic elements. Most likely, Succubus only said this after Feng Bu Jue had already obtained the key, creating the illusion that the player had an opportunity. In reality, if he had truly approached her earlier, he would've been attacked, possibly triggering an instant-death flag.

This was a technique Feng Bu Jue had seen countless times in single-player games. Some depression-inducing games loved this trick—giving you a choice before the ending. Choosing option A led to a terrible ending. Then you reload, choose option B, thinking you'll finally see the true ending, only to discover it's even worse.

It was like someone placing a cake in front of you, asking whether you'd eat it or not. If you ate it, you'd die from poison. If you refused, they'd eat it themselves, smacking their lips saying, "So delicious. Too bad you can't have any now."

Beep—

Just then, the kettle in the kitchen whistled, signaling the water had boiled.

Feng Bu Jue turned to leave.

"Hey! You haven't..." Succubus tried to call him back.

"I'll be right back after turning off the stove", Feng Bu Jue knew what she wanted to say, interrupting her as he headed to the kitchen.

Two minutes later, he turned off the gas stove and returned to the bedroom holding a pair of scissors.

To achieve Perfect Calibration, Feng Bu Jue took out the [Adamantine Bell] before approaching the bed, activating its special effect. The triggered command was the first one (viewing an Npc's detailed profile):

[Name: Succubus]

[Npc Faction: Reasoning Club]

[Level: ???]

[Height: 165 cm]

[Weight: 42 kg]

[Combat Triggerable: Yes]

[Attached Plot: Cursed Key]

"Since it displays Npc information instead of monster data, it means combat can be avoided. Judging from our current interaction, as long as I don't attack her next, there shouldn't be a problem..." Feng Bu Jue thought.

"What are you dawdling for?" Succubus urged.

Worried about unexpected complications, Feng Bu Jue decided not to delay further. "Hmm... nothing", he said, stepping forward and grabbing a corner of the bedsheet, quickly cutting toward the center.

Living beings trapped by the Solomon Ritual Array couldn't destroy it through their own strength. No matter how fragile the array was—even if it were made from fallen leaves or building blocks that would scatter with a breeze—the trapped would still be helpless. However, if a creature unaffected by the ritual array (like a human) entered the formation, the trapped being could use that creature's blood to contaminate the array and escape.

Earlier, when Feng Bu Jue pushed open the bedroom door, he remained unmoved by the alluring scene, quickly identifying her trapped state within the formation. This allowed him to gain the upper hand, reaching a plotline where combat wasn't necessary.

A few seconds later, as the outer edge of The Heptagram was cut open, Feng Bu Jue suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder—a palpable pressure signaling Succubus's restored power.

Simultaneously, the small bat wings on Succubus's back trembled slightly before she floated upward. "Hmph... today's just my unlucky day", she muttered unhappily, turning around and phasing through the wall to leave the room.

"Ahh~" Feng Bu Jue looked down at the Cursed Key in his hand. "From now on, it's my turn to have bad luck." He placed the key into his coat pocket and left the bedroom.

Returning to the kitchen, Feng Bu Jue put the scissors into the drawer, closing it completely. He then scanned his surroundings with a wary gaze. "Just how severe is this curse...?" His eyes quickly fell on the knife rack. "Is it the kind of instant death like in Final Destination...?" Looking at the floor, he continued, "Or is it the kind where you trip over nothing and break two front teeth while walking normally...?"

Actually, he was overthinking. If the Cursed Key had such immediate, lethal effects, Succubus would've noticed anomalies on her way here instead of only falling into the trap inside Feng Bu Jue's bedroom due to carelessness.

Five minutes later, Feng Bu Jue arrived at the living room holding a cup of instant coffee brewed with hot water. He placed the coffee on the coffee table first, then righted the overturned sofa and sat down comfortably.

He took a sip of coffee, then let out a satisfied "Ahh—" as if he were a drug addict who'd just gotten his fix.

"If I'm not mistaken, pages 599 to 602 should be..." Feng Bu Jue put down the cup, crossed his legs, and opened the book placed here earlier. "Ah-ha! It's really The Return."

That's right—S.H's hint referred to Sherlock Holmes Complete Case Files on Feng Bu Jue's bookshelf.

Reading Compulsion wasn't developed in a day.

As the saying goes, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. For Feng Bu Jue, this book marked the starting point of a long journey.

As a child, he was different from other kids. While he enjoyed games and comics, his talent and passion for reading clearly surpassed his peers—even adults.

This Sherlock Holmes Complete Case Files contained all the detective stories written by Conan Doyle. Feng Bu Jue bought it with his hard-earned pocket money during elementary school. His family wasn't wealthy, and his allowance was pitifully small, so he purchased a condensed edition. The 1,400+ page book had tiny print that was quite straining to read.

Feng Bu Jue had read this book countless times, yet he always kept it in pristine condition. He never flipped through its pages while eating, never touched the paper with greasy or dirty hands, and never folded the corners of its pages. Instead, he simply memorized which page he had left off on each time.

More than a decade had passed, yet the book still occupied a spot on his bookshelf. Though the paper had yellowed slightly, the ink remained as sharp as ten points, and not a single crease could be found.

"Never thought I'd open this again", Feng Bu Jue muttered, his attention quickly drawn to the text before him.

Pages 599 to 602 contained an excerpt from "The Empty House", which itself was a story within "The Return."

As a seasoned reader, Feng Bu Jue considered "The Return" series to mark the beginning of the franchise's decline. Later installments like "Horror Valley", "Last Bow", and "The New Adventures" lacked the logical rigor of the earlier works. During this period, Sherlock Holmes seemed capable of deducing a person's thoughts and solving entire cases merely by observing "facial movements, eye expressions, lip closures, clenched or relaxed fists..."

This trend reflected, to some extent, Sir Conan Doyle's waning passion for crafting such stories. The later works appeared to be written primarily to satisfy publishers and readers, which explained why post-1902 Sherlock Holmes stories never matched the success of his earlier classics.

Feng Bu Jue now understood Conan Doyle's predicament all too well. Many authors experienced the same fate: their works ignored when they poured their hearts into writing, only to face relentless demands for more once they achieved fame, even during creative slumps.

"The Study in Scarlet" had been completed in April 1886, but Conan Doyle struggled to find a publisher for years. It wasn't until Christmas 1887 that the story finally appeared in a Christmas annual.

Just five years later, despite his reluctance, The Strand Magazine had offered him £1,000 for twelve short stories—a staggering sum for someone who had long wanted to quit writing but found himself "forced up the mountain" and unable to descend for years.

"Oh... Is this the part where Sherlock Holmes recounts his escape at Reichenbach Falls to Watson?" Feng Bu Jue had barely finished page 599 when he recalled the next three pages' contents. Still, he continued reading.

"'I never fell,' Holmes described. 'When I saw Professor Moriarty, his face twisted with malice, blocking the narrow path to safety, I had no doubt my Apocalypse had arrived. In his gray pupils, I saw his merciless intent.' The fight description... heh, practically nonexistent. Then old Moriarty fell—'I saw him crash down a long distance, strike a rock, bounce off, and finally plunge into the water.'" Feng Bu Jue recited Holmes' account before pausing.

He took another sip of coffee. "From this passage, Moriarty's death seems certain. Unless his physical condition rivals Captain America's, and he somehow survived the fall and escaped downstream." Feng Bu Jue paused again. "If so... is the reasoning club's boss essentially a ghost?" A flicker of realization crossed his eyes. "If he's alive... could the fallen figure have been a decoy? What kind of double could possibly fool Sherlock Holmes' eyes?"

Putting down his coffee cup, he mused, "Alternatively, maybe the Moriarty from the reasoning club is merely a projection of Moriarty from a specific period in the original novels, like how other fairy tales and novel characters were recreated in the testing building."

This question likely required asking Professor Moriarty himself for an answer. Feng Bu Jue shelved it for now and resumed reading.

Though he could normally skim through text rapidly, he now examined every word carefully, recalling the original English phrasing. (He owned English editions of Sherlock Holmes' cases, but those were divided into series, each volume never exceeding 500 pages.)

"'At the moment Professor Moriarty plunged into the abyss, I suddenly realized this was a unique opportunity fate had arranged for me.' 'Where you claimed the cliff was sheer, there were actually a few narrow footholds, and a ledge-like protrusion. Climbing up such heights would be impossible, but slipping through that damp, narrow path without leaving footprints would be even more so.'" Feng Bu Jue couldn't help but comment, "Truly a role model—once he decided to fake his death, he saw it through completely, risking real death to climb the cliffs."

Continuing onward, pages 600-601 primarily detailed Holmes' rock-climbing ordeal. During this climb, one of Moriarty's accomplices, who had ambushed nearby in advance, attacked Holmes twice with large boulders. If this were a xianxia novel, the great detective might have fallen, survived the plunge, and then gained divine powers, treasures, a beauty companion, or a protective grandfather figure...

Unfortunately, in this early 20th-century novel, the protagonist's grace merely meant: "As my hands gripped the ledge's edge and my body dangled in midair, another stone whistled past me. My feet slipped, but thankfully, God protected me—I landed on the cliffside path. Though bloodied and bruised, I quickly fled, stumbling ten miles through the dark mountains. A week later, I reached Florence, where no one knew my whereabouts."

After finishing this passage, Feng Bu Jue remarked, "This week-long journey could make an excellent survival-in-the-wilderness fanfiction..."

Finally, pages 601-602 marked the conclusion of this segment.

The passage consisted of two parts. The first detailed where Sherlock Holmes had traveled and trained during his disappearance.

"I spent two years traveling in Tibet, often visiting Lhasa to chat with the Grand Lama for leisure. You might have read the excellent travelogue by a Norwegian named Sigerson—I'm sure you never imagined it contained news of your dear friend. Then, I passed through Persia, visited the holy site of Mecca, paid a brief yet fascinating visit to the Caliph in Khartoum, and shared the results with the Foreign Office. Returning to Europe, I spent several months in a laboratory in Montpellier, France, researching coal tar derivatives. Having completed this study satisfactorily, I learned only one of my enemies remained in London, so I prepared to return."

The second part concerned Moriarty's remaining henchmen.

This section remained somewhat vague. On page 600, Holmes stated, "Moriarty wasn't the only one who swore to kill me—there were at least three others. Their desire for revenge would only intensify after their leader's death."

Yet on page 601, the number shifted to two, described as key members of Moriarty's criminal empire who had evaded justice and remained at large.

By page 602, only one remained.

Feng Bu Jue had pondered these inconsistencies before. The simplest explanation was that the author had written carelessly. Indeed, these discrepancies held little importance in the original work, bearing no relevance to the main plot.

Moriarty's criminal empire had crumbled the moment its ruler fell.

However, now within the Terrifying Paradise, facing the virtual character of Moriarty in this scenario, the system had deliberately set up this 599-602 passage as a ten-point clue. Feng Bu Jue had no choice but to treat it as reality.

"The Swiss youth mentioned in 'The Final Problem' escaped, and Watson's analysis makes sense—he must be one of Moriarty's henchmen, though clearly insignificant", Feng Bu Jue said, closing the book and tilting his head back. "Assuming the person who attacked Holmes on the ledge was one of the 'three,' the other two must be characters never shown in the original works, existing only in descriptions." His mind raced. "Did their numbers decrease due to death, arrest, or hiding? And more importantly", his gaze shifted to the Key in his hand, "how do these four pages and this Key directly connect to escaping this room?"

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end