Deceitful Game

Chapter 280 A Bird with Broken Wings

"Ah, that's right..."

With her broken leg, Mingpo slowly fell backward, landing with a thud in the thick snow.

He didn't brace himself with his hands; he just fell straight backward. The snow was soft, and he sank in half an inch. Even his broken lower leg, which jolted slightly upon falling, didn't react much.

Mingbo didn't feel cold; she just felt as if she were surrounded by cotton.

He murmured softly, gazing wistfully at the azure sky and the warm, bright sun: "This is it... the place I dreamed of..."

...The snow-capped mountains of my memory.

In Mingpo's memory, scenes from the past appeared like a dream.

He walked through the jungle.

He climbed the snow-capped mountain in a blizzard.

He jumped off the cliff.

That was an experience that didn't exist in his memory at all.

It is a "memory that does not exist at all".

But they are so real, so... that Mingbo feels nostalgic and envious.

"The snow-capped mountains are so beautiful."

Mingpo sighed.

Mingpo, who was also standing and watching the sunrise, simply nodded: "When climbing snow-capped mountains, people are honest. Much more sincere than in the city. 'Hmm...yeah.'"

Mingpo, who was lying down, laughed out loud: "After all, you'll die if you lie on a snow mountain."

If you only have enough energy to walk 100 meters, but you insist you can walk 500, then when you're completely exhausted and haven't reached the next safe point, something bad is bound to happen. Or, if you don't know the correct route but insist on leading the way, the same thing will happen.

In addition, there were those who concealed injuries to their arms or legs; those who claimed to have reported them but never actually did so; and those who secretly removed their safety harnesses to take photos despite being told not to…

"In truly dangerous places, one must confront one's own heart. Deceivers may be able to act occasionally, but they can't act forever. In game after game, they must ultimately confront their own souls. So..."

Standing there, Mingpo spoke softly, "From this perspective, I actually quite like the game of deception."

"...If the game of deception doesn't generate those damned time-wasters, it's actually a pretty good game." Another Mingpa added.

Mingpo is a master liar, a natural-born deceiver. But his double standard is... he also hates being lied to.

But they wouldn't lie to each other.

Mingpo never lies to herself.

"So I know..."

Lying down, Mingpo said softly, "When you caught up with me, I knew you had no intention of killing me. Even Ai Shiping didn't notice."

"The killing intent... well, it's still there."

"I know, but that's not for me."

Lying down, Mingpo pulled her only remaining right hand out from under her body and stretched it towards the sky.

He spread his five fingers, shielding his eyes, and whispered, "That's for the world."

Golden sunlight filtered through his fingers, revealing zebra-like or Venetian blind-like patterns on his face.

Only his dim, yellowish eyes peeked out from between his fingers, like a beast opening its eyes in a dark, dense forest.

"yes……

Another Mingpa whispered, "This damn world."

"It shouldn't be like this."

"They're all a bunch of idiots."

"This world is just like this, full of scum."

"Then the company beat us into meatballs, soft, chewy and bouncy."

"It's better than those that are pressed into mud, made into bricks, and used to build walls."

"Is that okay? Probably."

The voices of the Mingbo people were mixed together, making it impossible to tell who was speaking.

"...You can't break this wall even if you smash it."

Mingpo sighed.

But just then, a sentence suddenly popped into their minds:

I want to create a world that no longer needs "idealists".

Mingpo doesn't remember who said those words, but now she only feels their irony.

"The Ideal Lord..."

He smiled and said, "Well, the world really doesn't need idealists anymore."

"Because they are all dead."

For a moment, only silence remained on the snow-capped mountain.

Ai Shiping said... The essence of paradox is that it negates itself.

But Mingpo never suffers from internal strife; he never denies himself.

However, this is a test of "strength," which means they must decide who is stronger and more powerful no matter what.

They did indeed fight. In the real world and in the illusionary world, they fought with all their might to kill each other, and were just one final blow away from completing the mission.

But it was only then that Mingpo realized... he didn't want to do that.

Because no one can fail this test of "strength".

In any case, one of the two "selves" will always die. No matter how strong or weak the player is, there will always be one of them who can win.

This is probably the predicament of the realm of power.

No matter how powerful you are, you will always encounter a more powerful enemy; every time you become stronger, you will also encounter an even stronger enemy. What's that called again...?

A concept suddenly popped into Mingpo's mind.

...Oh, right, Elo. This seems to be called the Elo mechanism. Ai Shiping told him about it before...no, wait, did he really tell him? Mingpo felt his memory was a bit confused.

He was just one step away from becoming the Deceiver. All it took was for either of them to deliver the final blow. And that's why memories from the past, like water leaking from a cracked roof, dripped into his home. "Is there anything else you want to say to me?" Mingpo, standing there, asked her other self.

He was from Mingpo, ten minutes later.

The two bright spots that were once intertwined are now gradually separating again.

Mingpo, who was lying down, thought for a moment and replied, "Yes."

"explain."

"Don't become like them."

Mingpo said calmly, "I don't know what the people at the top of those companies were like back then, but since they were able to survive the deceitful game and reach that position... I think they must have had an obsession with surviving no matter what."

"They probably weren't like this at the beginning. They might have hated, they might have laughed and joked, they might even have had ideals. But... [time] killed everything."

"Perhaps," Mingpo sighed, "but they've probably forgotten by now."

"Yes. After all, climbing up is too tiring, too tiring... so tiring that there are no other thoughts in my mind, only 'I want to survive,' 'I want to climb to the top'... to become Zhao Gao?"

Suddenly, another nonsensical thought popped into Mingpo's mind.

However, he has gradually gotten used to it.

To coexist with those overflowing memories, to coexist with the past self.

If he can't even tolerate himself from ten minutes ago... how can Mingpo tolerate himself from almost thirty years ago? Conversely, when Mingpo accepts this past self, he has already accepted himself from his previous life.

"When they finally climbed to the top, they saw their former selves below. But they didn't recognize them anymore; they just felt disgusted. Or they might recognize them, but they felt that their past selves were so foolish and ugly... They hated their past selves, and they hated these similar people as well."

He was looking at another version of himself.

Those eyes, gleaming with a dim yellow light, reflected the azure sky atop the snow-capped peak, and the blurry human figure.

“So,” Mingbo said softly, “don’t become them, don’t become the new company. Don’t become… a god high above. That’s what I’m saying to you… and to myself.”

Mingpo, who was on the ground, reached out and grasped the severed arm of Mingpo, who was standing.

Standing, Mingpo used her two intact legs to support herself on the ground and pulled up the one-legged, one-armed Mingpo who was on the ground.

"How about we enter a prize draw?"

The two ambers combined only had one complete arm. He took out the small mirror from his pocket, looked at himself, and then looked at the other amber.

One of the bright spots wore a gentle smile, while the other's eyes revealed a faint sadness.

After all, they need to confirm... who is the one who died.

Although it doesn't mean anything, and no one will care, but...

He put the small mirror back in his pocket and grasped the forearm of his other self again.

Two people, dressed in tattered clothes, looked up at the sun together.

No one mentioned a countdown, and no one explained in advance what was going to happen next.

Because they are all "amber" by nature.

"Shall we jump?"

Jump!

The next moment, the two injured people jumped up at the same time, without prior agreement.

At the summit of the snow-capped mountain, he leaped towards the sun like Icarus.

Like waxy wings melted into dust by the sun, they naturally plummeted downwards from their highest point.

However, their joyful and overlapping laughter echoed throughout the valley.

Until the laughter abruptly stopped.