Pupil

The indifferent fishing type is affected at the top of the year and the boring and coquettish type is attacked at the bottom. —— The first time Song You met Shen Huaian was in a dungeon called "Crying Marriage". That day he was wearing a borrowed red dress and sitting by the flowing water mat. The whole yard was filled with dazzling red - red lanterns, red "Happy" characters, and red headscarves. The bride was covered with the piece of cloth and sat in the center of the hall, motionless, like a clay sculpture waiting for someone to offer incense. The guests around him were all smiling, and their smiles seemed to be spread out from the same face. Song You looked down at his bowl. In the bowl is a piece of braised pork, fat and thin, neatly stacked. He remembered clearly that three minutes ago this piece of meat was still attached to half a finger. He put down his chopsticks. Then he raised his head and saw the person diagonally opposite. The man was sitting among a group of guests who were smiling like dummies. He was wearing the most ordinary gray shirt and was drinking the bowl of soup in front of him. He drank slowly and naturally, as if this was just an ordinary wedding banquet at a relative's house in the countryside, as if he was the only one in the whole yard who was actually eating. The heat steamed up, blurring his eyebrows, leaving only a faint outline. Song You stared at him for a long time. Until the man put down the bowl, raised his eyes, and looked over at the table full of leftovers. Eyes facing each other. The man curled his lips and nodded towards him, as if he were polite to a stranger at a banquet. Then he looked away and continued to drink his soup with his head down. No unnecessary expressions. But Song You didn't pay attention to the plate of braised pork that whole night. ——This is the third year since the "pupil" came. No one can tell where this thing came from. All I know is that starting from a certain day, everyone has a black vertical line on the inside of their left wrist. It's as thin as the mark scratched by the tip of a pen, quietly embedded under the skin, like a sleeping pupil. It will move. At the moment before the copy is opened, the vertical line will slowly open - revealing an eye that does not belong to anyone, staring at the host coldly. At that moment, the heartbeat will stop for a beat, and then the voice will sound from deep in the body, not in the ears, not in the mind, but in the gaps between the bones, in the blood, and in the gaps between the heartbeats: "The copy is ready." Those who have been stared at by it can never look back. Some people call it "Hitomi". Some people call it "eyes". Players call themselves "Gazeers" - not because of what they stare at, but because they are forever stared into by this eye. Japanese, Chinese, British. Abandoned hospitals, spiral staircases, and manors that you can never leave. Every game has rules, every game has a way to die, and every game has people watching the eye on their wrist slowly closing in the penultimate second, like watching a boring show. Then the people disappeared. The pupil will forever be frozen at the moment of death, becoming the last nourishment for that eye. Song You was the youngest among the gazers. At the age of twenty-two, I had an overly gorgeous face, a small mole at the end of my eye, and my smile looked like a poisoned flower. He has killed people, been killed by others, lay on piles of corpses and crawled through pools of blood, and has seen all kinds of ridiculous things. But he had never seen anyone like Shen Huaian. That person always sits in the corner in the dungeon, never fights or grabs, and always smiles at everyone with a smile that is neither far nor near. His clearance rate was frighteningly high - Song You later looked through his records and found that he had completed thirty-seven copies of the game, all of which were complete and complete, thirty-seven times. No one knows how he did it. It was like no one knew whether there was something in his eyes when he smiled. Later someone asked Song You, when did you start keeping an eye on him. Song You thought for a while and said: "That time when I had soup." The man was stunned: "That's it?" "That's it." Song You lowered his eyes, rubbed the small mole at the end of his eye with his fingertips, and slowly curved the corners of his mouth, "Everyone in the yard wanted to bite off a piece of meat from each other. He was the only one who sat there and drank a bowl of soup seriously." He paused. "I was thinking at that time, is this person really not afraid of death, or is he really not afraid of me." The man didn't ask any more questions. Because he saw something burning in Song You's eyes when he said this. It is the fire that lights up when a hunter sees his prey. ——But he himself didn't know that some fires, burning and burning, would also burn the person holding the fire. Intention: The end of the rules, mutual accomplices.