"A world made of pure information?" Leyton frowned slightly, muttering softly.
His intuition told him that Amon was telling the true, but he didn't feel any trace of an information world existing in this city.
Amon seemed to have seen what Leyton was thinking, and chuckled, explaining:
"That Sasitan, made of pure information, was hidden by the puppets here, and they fell silent together."
"You have a way to get in?" Leyton said this with great certainty.
Amon nodded and said:
"Of course, it's very simple for me, just need to create some Errors and deceive some rules."
"Error is the natural enemy of this kind of information world. Its logic is far less complex and tight than the true world; there are loopholes everywhere that can be exploited."
'Bugs are a programmer's lifelong enemy.' Leyton couldn't help but sigh in his heart, and by the time he came back to his senses and composed himself, it was already too late.
Amon scoffed, his expression unreadable, then calmly said:
"Heh, you even know about bugs. Did that Lunatic tell you? Obviously impossible, so, are you related to my father in some way? Is that also why you're cooperating with that lunatic?"
"Oh, and what's a programmer? Is it a term for someone who can create an information world?"
'I was careless.' Leyton calmly looked at Amon, thinking about how he should escape.
Amon suddenly got up from the sofa, clapped his hands, and transparent faces, one after another, floated out from around him. They were of various sizes, but all looked exactly like Amon.
Some were parasitic in the dust in the air, some on bookshelves, and some on walls and floors.
All of Amon's gazes uniformly turned towards Leyton. In the eerie atmosphere, all the Amons spoke in unison:
"The Forsaken Land of the Gods is sealed off from the outside world. Here, the Hidden Sage can't help you either. How do you plan to get rid of me? Rely on the residual divine power of those guys? Last time you used that mob and Night, who will it be this time? The noisy Sun? Or that old dragon who's always betraying?"
After a pause, the first Amon to appear said playfully:
"Or perhaps, you want to rely on the Fool's help?"
Perhaps it was due to frequent contact with Amon, but Leyton's first reaction at this moment was not panic, nor was it an urgent desire to escape, but rather a mental lament: 'Oh no, I've fallen into an Amon pile.'
The Amon standing in the center of the hall said, his expression unchanged: "You don't seem to be in a hurry."
Leyton shrugged, saying indifferently:
"There's no point in me rushing, is there?"
"At this moment, we also have no reason to break out into conflict."
After a pause, he suddenly said: "How about we play a game?"
"What game?" Amon asked curiously.
Leyton was silent for a moment, organizing his words to introduce:
"Hmm, it can be called: Werewolf."
"This game requires a certain number of people, who will take on the roles of commoner, Hunter, Witch, good person, and Werewolf. It just so happens that you have many avatars."
As he spoke, Leyton's gaze swept over the transparent faces of various sizes around him. He carefully explained the rules of Werewolf to Amon.
Finally, he added:
"During the game, your avatars cannot communicate in any way other than language."
Amon unreadably scrutinized Leyton for a moment. Just as Leyton thought he would refuse, he suddenly chuckled and nodded, saying:
"Sounds interesting, I agree."
"Who among you is willing to participate?"
"I am." All the Amons spoke simultaneously.
Amon's gaze swept over the transparent faces around him, and without surprise, he said: "You all vote to decide."
The transparent faces, large and small, around them suddenly fell silent, as if communicating through some hidden means.
Seeing this, Leyton's eyes deepened. His gaze lingered on Amon, who was dressed in a black classical robe and wearing a soft pointed hat of the same color, as he spoke:
"Now I somewhat believe you are the main body."
"Is that important? As long as I wish, the main body and avatars can swap at any time."
As Amon spoke, he pinched the monocle over his right eye. A faint white light streaked across the lens, and suddenly, a lavishly decorated round table appeared in the center of the hall, with eight high-backed chairs scattered around it.
Leyton's gaze swept over the suddenly appearing table and chairs, taking in every detail and piece of information. They were products of the Fourth Epoch Tudor Empire, and the Amon Family crest from that time was even in the center of the round table. With even things like tables and chairs, it was hard not to suspect that Amon's collection room contained every type of item in this world.
Amon suddenly spoke: "Do you want to see my collection room?"
Leyton waved his hands repeatedly: "No, I don't want to become one of your collectibles."
"It won't necessarily be as a collectible; you can try to earn it." Amon said insincerely.
Leyton's mouth twitched: "So what were you really thinking just now?"
"You can guess, or try." Amon said with a light laugh.
"Forget it, not interested." Leyton shook his head and refused.
While the two were chatting, the Amons around them had already finished voting. Finally, the Amons with the strongest aura stepped forward. Their bodies quickly solidified, and their appearances changed: some became ancient nobles from the Fourth Epoch, some became postmen with messenger bags, and some became Sailors.
Everyone found a seat and sat around the round table.
Sandwiched among a pile of Amons, Leyton always felt a bit uncomfortable, as if he were the husky that had snuck into a pack of wolves.
After everyone was seated, he tapped the table twice with his right index finger, making a thudding sound.
Specks of starlight scattered, solidifying into eight playing cards in mid-air, each bearing images of a Witch, a Werewolf, a Hunter, and so on.
Snap!
Amon, sitting at the head of the table in a black classical robe, suddenly raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Leyton felt himself instantly lose control over the star-light-condensed playing cards in mid-air.
Amon, his expression unchanged, raised a hand to pinch the monocle over his right eye, and a majestic male voice suddenly rang out:
"Beyonder abilities are forbidden here!"
With these words, Leyton instantly felt that most of his Beyonder abilities were lost, and the remaining usable Beyonder abilities were greatly weakened. However, the Beyonder abilities maintaining the illusion and the playing cards were not affected.
Amon looked at Leyton with a smile, saying with amusement:
"A small trick to prevent cheating."
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not the Black Emperor. In most cases, I still abide by the rules, after all, it's more conducive to fraud and theft, and more challenging, isn't it?"
Feeling the changes in himself, Leyton spoke with a tone full of suspicion:
"This level of 'prohibition' doesn't seem to affect you."
Amon showed no anger at being exposed, and spoke very calmly:
"It can only be circumvented, not completely without effect. With the Clairvoyant's eyesight, I believe you can tell if I'm cheating."
Leyton sighed: "That's why I don't really want to play games with you. If you don't play some high-level tricks, you wouldn't be Amon."
"You truly understand me. How about we add some stakes to the game? The loser needs to satisfy a small request from the winner, just a small request."
Amon emphasized the words "small request."
Leyton smiled noncommittally and said:
"And then you use your authority to magnify this 'small request'?"
"However, that's fine too. Anyway, I'm already sitting here, and it seems like I don't have a chance to refuse."
As his voice fell, he leaned back against the chair, trying to relax and empty his mind, so that Amon wouldn't steal too much information from him.
Amon reached out and took the monocle from his right eye, tossing it in his hand. The other Amons around him also took off their monocles and silently put them back into their pockets.
"This will make me seem more sincere. Well then, let's begin."
As Amon spoke, he lightly tapped the tabletop twice with his right index finger. The playing cards that had been quietly floating in mid-air were shuffled, constantly changing positions by interweaving with each other.
The next moment, the positions of these playing cards were swapped, instantly appearing in front of the people seated around the round table, with one card stopping in front of each person.
Leyton calmly glanced at the card in front of him. It showed a middle-aged male in a grey coarse cloth shirt, and below the card, there was a word written in Ancient Feysac: Commoner.
'It's hard not to suspect Amon is manipulating the identity card draws behind the scenes.' Muttering to himself, Leyton raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The playing cards floating in front of everyone instantly shattered, turning into specks of starlight and dissipating.
Amon, sitting at the head of the table in a black classical robe, turned his head and looked at Leyton, saying:
"Your Mystery Pryer eyes are very good. I wonder if you've memorized these identity cards?"
"Are you overestimating me, or underestimating yourself?"
Leyton calmly retorted. He looked up expressionlessly and met the gaze of Amon, who was sitting in the main seat and seemed to be the main body. 'He really didn't steal my thoughts, or… he just didn't show it, planning to deceive me later.'
As the two conversed, another translucent Amon floated out from the center of the round table. He was ethereal and flickering like a ghost, without a physical body.
This ghost-like Amon was draped in a white clergyman's robe, holding a silver cross in both hands. He floated in mid-air and spoke in a low, heavy voice:
"Prepare…"
"Night falls, please close your eyes."
The clergyman Amon floating in the middle of the round table calmly moved the process forward. Leyton, leaning back in his high-backed chair, instinctively closed his eyes while unconsciously gripping the armrest tighter with his right hand.
'Amon's killing won't be real killing, will it? Good thing I prepared a few more paper substitutes earlier. Why did I have a brain fart and play a game with Amon? I feel like I'm his game…' The oppressive feeling of being surrounded by a group of Amons made Leyton only able to alleviate the pressure by constantly grumbling to himself.
☰