"You do not belong to my world and are not under my jurisdiction, so there is no need for you to call me boss," the system voice continued. "My name is … the Count of Script."
"From the name, it sounds like a super powerful boss," Autumn Wind whispered.
The cautious Weighty Words took out a pistol from his inventory, opened the safety, and looked up cautiously.
"Put away your useless weapon, traveler from another world," the Count of Script said calmly. "Bullets pose no threat to me."
Before he could finish his sentence, a silver metal sphere with a diameter of one meter appeared in front of the players' eyes.
The ball floated between the ceiling and the bookshelf. It slowly moved to the hexagonal area where the players were.
The Count of Script's voice that was similar to the system voice came from this metallic ball. "However, I do not wish for you to use those crude and boring weapons to destroy the books around you."
"You are the owner of this Detective Club, right?" Feng Bujue raised his head to ask. "Earlier, we were trapped in your mental world."
"Haha … That is not accurate," the Count of Script said. The Count of Script said, "You make it sound like I'm the one who forced you in and did not let you out." He chuckled. "But in fact, you all relied on your own willpower … to barge in without permission, didn't you?"
The players could not deny that. After all, this was a scenario in a game, and they had volunteered to enter it.
Ambitionist looked up at the metal ball and said, "Alright, we'll treat it as us coming uninvited … So, what do you plan to do now?"
"I am here to take something," the Count of Script said. "Then, I will politely ask you to leave this place." As he said that, he descended from the sky.
The four players each took a side of the hexagonal area, and the metal sphere circled around the iron cage and landed in the middle of the four players.
The next second, the Count of Script's appearance changed. He turned from a ball into an old man in a wheelchair. The old man was wearing a black suit and had a head full of white hair. His face looked very old, but his expression revealed a kind of wisdom and peace.
"This appearance and voice …" The Count of Script's voice turned gentle and infectious. "Perhaps it will make you feel more at ease."
"The 'freedom' you mentioned … is basically the same as letting down one's guard, right?" Qiu Feng said.
"Hmph … Do you know? The two qualities that you travelers from another world have that I hate the most are your belligerence and paranoia. " The Count of Script sneered. "If I really wanted to kill you, you would have been torn to pieces the moment your consciousness came here."
"You said you wanted to take something away." Hong Hu asked again. "What do you mean? There shouldn't be anything on us that belongs to you. "
"No, no …" The Count of Script shook his head with a smile. "Each of you has a key, don't you?"
The expressions of the four changed.
"I did get a key in my memory space," Weighty Words replied. "But when I arrived here, the key was no longer with me."
Feng Bujue looked at his teammates and asked, "What's wrong? You guys also got the Cursed Key in your memory space? "
"Cursed Key?" Weighty Words asked. "That can't be right … Mine is called the Pardon Key."
"I also got one. It's called the Blessed Key," Qiu Feng said.
When Ambitionist heard what the three of them said, he did not say much. He simply said, "The Key of Repentance."
Feng Bujue thought about it and turned to tell the Count of Script, "After we came to this real world, all the items on us returned to their original state." He paused. "The key you mentioned has disappeared."
"Disappeared? Haha … After uncovering the 'truth', you guys didn't understand anything? " The Count of Script smiled. "Here, there … Reality, illusion … Where is the boundary?"
"You want to convince us … that world is real?" Feng Bujue asked with some thought.
The Count of Script replied, "What if I told you … the fantasy world constructed by a creature's brain and the so-called real world that the creature lives in are actually two parallel dimensions?" His eyes scanned the faces of all the players. "Then, which world do you think is real?"
"Based on your hypothesis," Hong Hu said, "doesn't that mean that every single one of us with intelligence has become a creator?"
"Why not?" The Count of Script said. "A world in a grain of sand, a heaven in a flower, a bodhi in a tree, and a Buddha in a leaf. "Perhaps you and I are just the imagination of another consciousness. Our existence is part of a 'script', and we are trapped in an endless cycle made from conflict and contradiction, death and rebirth." He seemed to have thought of something interesting. He paused and sneered. "Maybe you can't understand it now, but it doesn't matter. We have a lot of time. Let's talk about the key after I'm done with the details."
After the Count of Script said that, his whole head suddenly twisted. From his neck up, he morphed into Sherlock Holmes, and his voice changed as well. "There is a saying from Shakespeare that is often quoted — in the eyes of a thousand people, there are a thousand Hamlets." He raised his hand and pointed at his face. "The Mr. Holmes that you saw earlier is the one in my eyes."
Honestly, this scene, at least from the players' perspective, was very strange …
However, the Count of Script did not think so. He continued. "This man is cold, humorous, alert, and calm … He has a casual side to him, but most of the time, his will is firm. He has a long face, thick brows, black hair, an aquiline nose, and thin lips. When he speaks, he speaks with a standard British accent, fast, and high pitch … and his trademark is the pipe and cane. "
At this point, the Count of Script's head turned back to the old man. "And in another person's mind, the image of Sherlock Holmes will be different. Even in Conan Doyle's mind, Sherlock Holmes is constantly changing. He was originally a talented detective, but in the end, he became an illusion sought after by greedy publishers and crazed readers. Even if he is no longer as good as he used to be, no one will care. "
"So," Feng Bujue said, "every character that we met in the examination building is the Hamlet that you created after reading the original novel?"
"No, every one of them has their own consciousness," the Count of Script said. The Count of Script said, "I am not their creator, but I am the creator of the world they live in." He waved his hand. "Just as Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, and Little Red Riding Hood have told you, in that world, they have their own set of rules. For some things … even if I want to interfere, it is not that easy. "
"So … this is like a serialized comic. At the later stage, the author himself might not be able to control the development of the plot," Qiu Feng chimed in.
"Haha … Not bad. Your comprehension is much better than those in the same dimension as me." The Count of Script smiled.
His words caused the players to be shocked. It was normal for a character in a game to say something like that, but what he said seemed to mean that he knew that he was just a set of data.
Feng Bujue, who had interacted with the Anomalies several times, was even more shocked. He could not help but think, Could it be that these high-level data are all unique and can store memories? Then, aren't they similar to the Anomalies?
But what worried Feng Bujue the most was … if these AIs could really 'understand' their situation, what would they do?
The Count of Script was still talking. "But you are not as high and mighty as you think." He revealed a meaningful look. "You have many questions, and I have all the answers that you want. But from your perspective, you can understand some of the answers, and some of them you cannot.
For example … at this moment, the question that you are most eager to ask is … how to clear the scenario. "
The players were speechless. They did not know how to respond to this hidden boss before them, and they had no idea whether this Count of Script was still a boss or not.
"I can explain it in a way that you can understand, allowing you to make a simple and direct choice, and then there will be an inevitable result," the Count of Script said. "I can also give you the answer that you cannot understand, and what kind of phenomenon will that cause?" He shrugged. "Unfortunately, I have no idea. This is because only creatures with sub-normal intelligence, in other words, imperfect but extremely arrogant humans like you, can find the answer. "
"You are the sharpest conman I've ever met in my life. Please accept my kneeling …" When Qiu Feng mocked him, he really wanted to kneel.
"Hahaha …" The Count of Script guffawed. "Alright, you'd better leave." The wheelchair under him turned on its own so that it was facing Feng Bujue. "Billy asked me to pass you a message."
Feng Bujue was startled before asking, "The puppet Billy?"
"Yes, he said, this is his way of repaying you for the help you gave him during the prison break," the Count of Script said.
Feng Bujue thought about it for several seconds before asking, "Is that why you came personally to let us go?"
The Count of Script nodded. "Otherwise, you would have to figure out a way to get the keys and find the exit." He snapped his fingers, and four differently-shaped keys appeared before the four players. After a second, they flew into the Count of Script's hands.
The players naturally recognized them; they were the keys that they had obtained from their memory space.
"I'll take them back." The Count of Script pointed at the middle of a bookshelf, and a book fell from the shelf. "The back door of the club … is open for you."
At this point, the Count of Script's form changed again, and he turned into a white crane.
It flapped its wings and flew up. With a shrill voice, it said, "I hope you will not return here, humans."
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