Today, the four-person group discussed and chose to explore a different route than the one they took yesterday, aiming to uncover new clues.

Ding Yi and Qin Yuan reached the circular plaza described by Jiang Xianqing, where they saw a bronze statue of a human figure topped with a sheep’s head, placed directly in the plaza’s center. The statue had its hands peacefully crossed over its shoulders, its eyes lazily half-open, and wore an expression of soft, almost divine love.

The statue’s base bore no inscriptions, and no records of its existence could be found anywhere in the vicinity of the plaza.

Ding Yi posed inquiries to two town residents who happened to be passing by, one after the other. Their sole reaction was to gaze upon the statue with an air of profound reverence, informing her that Ophelia was the revered guardian deity of Animal Town.

When pressed about Ophelia’s history and origins, they all offered the same vague response: they did not know.

To the north of the circular plaza lay a sprawling apple orchard, bordered by a lush vineyard, which in turn gave way to a vibrant orange grove.

Regardless of the botanical improbability of these diverse fruit-bearing trees thriving on the same patch of land, the undeniable fact that they were all heavily laden with ripe fruit, exuding a rich and intoxicating aroma, only served to deepen the pervasive sense of strangeness.

---

Their day of exploration brought minimal results. Along the streets, they encountered many Wishers whose behavior was distinctly more anxious and irritable than it had been the day before. They shrank back from the town residents’ gifts as if they were contaminated, and the sight of the offered meat incited severe vomiting.

Having gleaned nothing of significance, the two returned to Jenny’s Tavern as the sky bled into hues of crimson with the setting sun.

This time, a scattering of empty tables remained within the tavern’s dimly lit interior. Still, both Ding Yi and Qin Yuan instinctively gravitated towards the bar seats they had occupied the previous evening.

“Oh, my dearies, welcome back!”

Jenny welcomed them with exuberant warmth. “You must be starving after your journey! What tasty dishes will satisfy your appetites this evening? May I enthusiastically suggest today’s special—delicious roast meat!”

“How does that sound? Simply divine, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ding Yi remained unmoved by her effusive sales pitch, calmly finishing her glass of iced water. “A simple bowl of plain noodle soup, if you please.”

Qin Yuan also placed his empty water glass on the counter. “The same as her.”

Jenny looked at them with confusion and hurt. “What’s gotten into everyone today? Why is there such a sudden demand for vegetarian options? It’s all so strange.”

Despite her evident displeasure, Jenny turned and called out to the kitchen, “Honey, two bowls of plain noodle soup!”

“And add two more bowls to that order!”

Jiang Xianqing, who had just returned, once again collapsed onto a bar stool, her exhaustion palpable. Yan Ming gingerly accepted the glass of water Jenny offered, studiously avoiding any direct eye contact with her throughout the exchange.

“Any noteworthy discoveries?”

“None to speak of.” Jiang Xianqing answered, taking a brief sip of water before resting her chin on her hand. “It’s much too oppressive out there. The other residents’ behavior appears mostly the same as yesterday.”

“I had initially anticipated that, given the looming time constraint, the residents’ attempts to impose their gifts upon us today would be more forceful, even manic. But it wasn’t quite that extreme.”

Yan Ming echoed her sentiment. “Yeah, it was generally acceptable to politely decline. They didn’t become enraged or undergo any bizarre transformations. Some even wished us a pleasant day.”

“Speaking of which,” Ding Yi suddenly recognized a vital question that had escaped her attention until now, “if we ultimately fail to finish the timed mission, wouldn’t that suggest—”

“When the sands of time run out, the slaughter commences,” Qin Yuan stated with an unsettling calm, as if discussing a matter of trivial importance. “Once the minimum quota of survivors is reached, those who remain will pass.”

Yan Ming was momentarily rendered speechless. “Slaugh—”

“Why the surprise? Didn’t you understand that a minimum number of survivors was necessary? Introducing a time limit only adds a temporal constraint; nothing else has changed fundamentally. If the mission isn’t completed, the inevitable slaughter will commence immediately after the time runs out.”

Upon hearing this stark pronouncement, Jiang Xianqing took another large gulp of water, her throat suddenly feeling parched. “So, that means our options are either to complete the mission successfully or to survive the ensuing slaughter in some way?”

“Precisely.”

“Plain noodle soup, arriving!” Jenny emerged from the kitchen, carefully carrying two steaming bowls of noodle soup. “My dearies, are you truly not inclined to add even a sliver of meat? It quite breaks my heart to see you subsisting on such meager fare.”

“No, thank you,” Ding Yi replied politely, though inwardly, her mind was racing.

After their simple meal, they engaged in desultory conversation for a while before the four of them retreated upstairs to their respective rooms to seek rest.

The ceiling and the bed, which had been so gruesomely stained with blood the previous night, had been inexplicably restored to pristine cleanliness. The dry air held no lingering scent of wild animals or spilled blood.

Given the dwindling time remaining, they resolved to retire early tonight, intending to resume their search for crucial clues as soon as the first light of dawn broke.

“Ding Yi.”

Ding Yi, who was drifting towards sleep, her eyes already closed, responded with a soft, “Hmm?”

“What were you doing before you came here?”

Ding Yi frowned slightly. Wasn’t that question rather intrusive?

“What about you? What were you doing before you found yourself in this place?”

Qin Yuan remained silent for a moment, then shifted his inquiry. “You could at least tell me what wish you made that brought you here.”

“I wonder what desperation led you to wish so powerfully that the New World chose to respond.”

Ding Yi merely turned over, her eyes still closed. “Hmm? Are you perhaps offering to help me fulfill my wish?”

Qin Yuan offered a cryptic reply. “It is not entirely beyond the realm of possibility.”

Ding Yi’s response was dismissive and straightforward. “Go to sleep.”

Just as Ding Yi had settled back down, teetering on the edge of slumber, Qin Yuan’s voice cut through the quiet again. “Ding Yi, are you asleep?”

Ding Yi: …

She had hoped that by ignoring him, he would eventually cease his persistent inquiries, but to her mild annoyance, he continued to repeat, “Ding Yi, are you asleep?”

Finally, Ding Yi could endure it no longer. “What is it?”

“You truly have no intention of sharing your wish with me?”

“If you find yourself unable to sleep, perhaps you could venture out and engage in conversation with someone else.”

Qin Yuan countered smoothly, “Am I not currently engaged in conversation with you?”

Ding Yi abruptly opened her eyes, sat up, and stared at the man sitting on the sofa, his expression a mask of thinly veiled resentment. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Does being insane grant me the privilege of chatting with you?”

Ding Yi let out a frustrated groan. “What do you want from me?!”

“Your wish.”

“It’s you.”

Qin Yuan was momentarily taken aback by her bluntness, but then he heard her elaborate. “My fervent wish at this precise moment is for you to be quiet and stop disturbing my sleep.”

After a prolonged silence, Ding Yi, noting his lack of response, lay back down and closed her eyes, hoping for a swift descent into slumber.

As soon as the first rays of dawn filtered through the window, Ding Yi, who had been in a state of fitful half-sleep, awoke to find Qin Yuan in precisely the same position he had occupied when she closed her eyes the night before.

“Awake so early?” Ding Yi regarded him with a suspicious gaze. “You didn’t stay up all night, did you?”

Qin Yuan rose from the sofa. “Just woke up. Let’s depart.”

He roused Yan Ming and Jiang Xianqing from the adjacent room, and upon descending to the first floor, they discovered that many of the remaining Wishers had already risen and completed their breakfast.

The relentless passage of time fueled the remaining individuals’ desperate efforts to uncover helpful clues and complete their seemingly elusive mission as swiftly as possible.

No one had perished during the night.

However, this absence of death did not bring relief to the group. On the contrary, a palpable sense of heightened anxiety and unease permeated the atmosphere.

After a brief discussion amongst themselves, the four-person group decided to revisit the circular plaza to examine the enigmatic statue once more.

Before departing, Ding Yi made a point of questioning Jenny about the statue, but the response she received remained the same, frustratingly vague: “I don’t know.”

---

Circular Plaza.

A significant number of Wishers were already engaged in conversation with the town residents gathered there.

The town residents were in the process of setting up long tables, their movements brisk and purposeful.

Yan Ming stepped forward to inquire about their activity and was informed that everyone was diligently preparing for the impending carnival scheduled for the following day.

“What specific occasion does this carnival commemorate or celebrate?”

“Exercise a little more patience. When the carnival commences, the true nature of the carnival will be revealed to you.”

Regardless of the phrasing of their inquiries, the responses remained stubbornly consistent: either a dismissive “wait a little longer” or a frustratingly unhelpful “I don’t know.”

The unnervingly excited smiles plastered on the residents’ faces and the fanatical gleam in their eyes sent an inexplicable shiver of unease down their spines.

Suddenly, Qin Yuan lowered his head and whispered urgently into Ding Yi’s ear, “Count to three and then slowly direct your gaze upwards towards the statue’s eyes.”

A knot of apprehension tightened in Ding Yi’s stomach. She silently counted to three and slowly raised her gaze. Her eyes widened as she witnessed the statue’s previously half-closed eyelids flicker and blink. The slightly protruding eyeballs were in constant, subtle motion, silently observing the humans milling about at its base.

Abruptly, its gaze locked onto Ding Yi, who had been furtively observing it.

The smooth, serene lines of its face subtly shifted, revealing the faintest hint of a smile.

The gentle and loving expression had vanished, replaced by the chillingly predatory joy of a hunter sighting its unsuspecting prey.

The instant Ding Yi averted her gaze, she heard Yan Ming stammer, his voice laced with disbelief, “Sis… did the statue’s eyes just move?”

“What I saw the other day was not just a trick of the light or an illusion caused by exhaustion.”

Jiang Xianqing, who had also observed the statue’s unsettling movement during their previous visit, suddenly whirled around and delivered a sharp slap to Yan Ming’s arm. “You saw it and didn’t think to mention it sooner?!”