Chapter 8: Chapter 8: The Endless Cellar Passage
Jon closed the cellar door again, deciding to make some preparations.
The cellar was pitch black with no light source, and Rule 6 had mentioned—it's very dark in the cellar, so don't trust anything you see.
Perhaps, just by entering this cabin, the players' perception started to be corrupted by "it".
Initially, the symptoms might be mild.
Jon believed that seeing objects in the mirror that didn't exist in reality was a sign of this perceptual corruption.
In places without a light source, combined with the innate human fear of darkness.
"It" would surely create some terrifying illusions.
If one became frightened, their fear of "it" would deepen, possibly intensifying the perceptual corruption.
It's similar to a person's mental state.
To make it easier to understand, think of it as a numerical value. A normal person's "mental value" is 100 points.
When their mental health is stable, they perceive the world as normal.
But once they are frightened, their mental value gradually decreases.
If they were to encounter some ultimate fear that could destroy their worldview, and their 100-point "mental value" dropped to zero, they would be on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Their perception of the world might become so twisted that it turns into a horrific hell.
Jon thought that "its" pollution of the mind and perception would have a similar effect, definitely linked to the player's mental state.
He found a box of matches on the shelf above the fireplace.
Jon moved to the dining table, struck a match, and lit the candle on the candleholder.
The warm candlelight flickered in the cold, dark room, like a sun full of hope.
The eerie atmosphere in the cabin instantly diminished somewhat.
Holding the candleholder, Jon returned to the cellar door and opened it again.
The candlelight pierced through the seemingly tangible darkness, revealing some of the steps leading downward.
The little dog squatted beside the cellar door, showing no intention of going ahead.
Jon frowned and said, somewhat displeased, "Hey, either you go first, or you don't come down with me at all."
Jon wasn't afraid to walk in front, it was just that the cellar passage was narrow. If the dog followed behind him and he encountered danger ahead, turning to escape might be blocked by the dog.
"Arf?" The little dog tilted its head but obediently stood up and started to descend.
Jon held the candleholder and followed, walking down together.
As soon as he entered the cellar, Jon felt a bone-chilling cold. The temperature here was noticeably five or six degrees lower than outside, making it a natural refrigerator in the summer.
To Jon's surprise, the cellar was quite deep.
They descended a dozen steps, yet the deep passage still seemed bottomless.
It was very quiet inside, and each step echoed behind him, sounding as if someone was following. Jon frowned, and the little dog walking in front suddenly stopped.
"Something's wrong... this cellar can't be this deep." He looked back at the cellar entrance, but it was already out of sight.
He Seemed to Have Entered an Endless Passage
Jon frowned, realizing that in this dim space, he had already been contaminated by "its" perception. An ordinary person would probably have started to panic in such a predicament.
The warm yellow candlelight flickered on Jon's face, and a mischievous smile curled his lips. His eyes grew increasingly expectant.
"Let's see what happens next," he said to himself.
Jon wasn't afraid of death, he only feared a boring life.
From a young age, he possessed two unique talents. The first was an extraordinarily rich imagination.
He could instantly construct a nearly realistic scene in his mind and animate each object within it. The second talent was his exceptional memory.
He could clearly recall everything he had ever seen, without forgetting a single detail.
Combining these two talents, Jon's memory became like a vast library, where he could quickly and accurately find whatever he was looking for.
This allowed him to replay memories from any given day and even conduct simulations.
However, Jon was well aware that his exceptional memory was actually a condition known as "Super Memory Syndrome."
The brain has limited capacity.
Super Memory Syndrome doesn't allow for selective memory, it forces the individual to remember everything, unable to discard irrelevant details.
According to doctors, by the time Jon turned 30, his brain would likely reach full capacity.
If that day truly came, Jon would become a man without a future.
Unable to remember anything that happened the day before.
Even keeping a daily journal would be impractical. The journals would pile up, but without continuity in his memory, everything would become meaningless.
Over time, Jon had developed his current personality.
He didn't want to waste his brain's capacity on meaningless things.
He needed more interesting and exciting experiences to fill his mind.
Even if he reached the point where he could no longer form new memories.
Jon could still live on through his past recollections.
So now, Jon saw himself as a filmmaker, editing a movie of his life that he would replay over and over in the future.
To make it worthwhile, he needed to gather more thrilling "footage."
Looking down the bottomless cellar passage, Jon smiled and said, "Come on, show me what exciting material you can offer."
He began to think about how to break through the current perceptual contamination.
Though the game was fraught with dangers, the creator must have left some room for survival to maintain a sense of fairness.
A storm was brewing in Jon's mind as he sought a solution.
The only rule that seems relevant to the current situation is Rule 6—"It's very dark in the cellar, so don't trust anything you see."
This rule must be true.
Because the strange occurrences are already happening.
Jon silently began to analyze, "It's obvious now that I've been contaminated by its perception.
In the darkness, its ability to interfere seems to be stronger.
If I shouldn't trust anything I see, then I just shouldn't look..."
With that thought, Jon put down the candleholder, using it as a reference point.
Then closed his eyes, continuing to walk downward.
After taking only two or three steps, the ground beneath his feet became level.
Jon opened his eyes, and the seemingly endless steps had completely disappeared. He turned around and saw the candleholder just four steps behind him.
The cellar entrance was also not far away—there were only about ten steps in total.
"Wooof woof!"
The little dog ran down, excitedly circling Jon, seemingly no longer afraid.
Jon shook his head with a smile, "Is that all there is to it?"
The design here was quite clever. It first used the rule to suggest that something terrifying would happen in the dark cellar.
Naturally making the player too tense to close their eyes.
Consequently, they would be trapped in the passage.
It seemed that merely closing his eyes could break the perceptual contamination. The interference he experienced just now must have affected his vision and spatial awareness.
Jon retrieved the candleholder and took a clear look at the cellar.
The cellar was not large, about the same size as the living room.
The left wall of the passage was stacked with chopped firewood, while the opposite wall had many hanging smoked meats and several green glass jars, likely containing pickles.
There were also some tin cans, which appeared to be the tomato cans mentioned in the dog food recipe.
Jon stretched and said, "Alright, time to start hauling this stuff up."
He placed the candleholder on the wall shelf and began to carry the firewood, planning to take as much as he could in one trip.
Soon enough, Jon had piled the firewood into the cabin's fireplace.
As the flames gradually consumed the wood, a crackling sound filled the room.
The fire grew stronger, warming the small cabin.
Jon squatted beside the fireplace, adding more wood. He then picked up a piece of firewood that felt noticeably lighter.
He knocked it on the floor twice, producing a hollow sound.
He grabbed another solid piece and struck it hard.
"Crack!"
With a sharp sound, a note emerged from the wood chips.
Jon brushed away the debris and picked up a small segment, examining it closely.
It looked like a dried, twisted finger.
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