"What are you doing?" Samantha tried to pick it up, but Eric grasped her firmly and shook her vigorously.
"Samantha, wake up! You must not eat any more!"
Samantha faltered for a moment, then regained her senses.
Kevin and Jason, now fully alert, also hurried to wake the other male players.
"Don't stop me, I want to eat!" Timothy shoved Jason aside, only to receive a sharp slap across his face.
"Snap out of it!"
Seeing Samantha recover, Eric moved on to rouse Nicole and Christine.
Nicole awakened promptly, but Christine remained deeply entranced and even fought with Eric.
"I just want to eat—I'm starving!"
Samantha and Nicole clasped her arms tightly, restraining her with all their strength.
"Should we tie her up? Is there any rope?"
"No rope here—I'll fetch some well water!" Eric dashed into the courtyard to draw water. Just as she filled a bucket, clamor arose from the living room. She hurried back, water bucket in hand, to find Ronald, his huge belly thrust forward, frantically pushing through the players blocking him. In a frenzy, he grabbed the steamed buns and porridge from the bucket.
Eric's heart trembled at the sight—Ronald stuffing buns in one hand and shoveling porridge with the other, practically burying his head in the porridge bucket.
"Ronald! Stop eating immediately!"
"Christine! Hold her back!"
Splash!
With force, Eric flung the bucket of well water across the room.
Christine, tempted again by the food, finally snapped out of her trance. But Ronald kept eating. Desperate, Jason knocked him unconscious.
The dining table was in complete disarray. Ronald lay sprawled on the floor like a dead fish, his clothes torn, and several handprints pressed into his swollen belly—as if a mischievous child were pressing their palms against the belly to wave at those outside.
Christine watched in horror, clutching her own belly, her face pale as a ghost.
How could her belly have swollen so dramatically after just one breakfast?
She bent over, retching uncontrollably.
The chaotic breakfast ended abruptly. Eric swallowed her nausea and helped the others clean up the mess, first placing the two buckets and dishes at the door and securing the courtyard gate before fetching water to wash the living room and tables.
Once Christine recovered a bit, she came to assist but Samantha urged her to rest instead: "We're almost done here."
Once the cleanup concluded, Ronald awoke, crying out for food.
Jason had no choice but to lock him in his room.
"He's lost his mind," Jason said grimly, seeking advice from the others.
"There's nothing we can do," Timothy patted his own belly, "I've got one too! He refused to drink the baby soup last night; while we drank, who knew he was mocking us, making himself feel superior, like he was the smartest and we were fools. Well, look now—he's become the joke."
"Don't say that," Jason sighed. "Nobody wants this. We still have to gather clues. Here's the plan: split up. One group goes to find the village chief; the other heads to the ancestral hall. Who wants to go where?"
"Samantha, where will you go?"
"I think I'll go to the ancestral hall. It feels pivotal."
"I'll go with you to the hall," Christine quickly added.
"I'll go look for the village chief," Eric said. Though the ancestral hall was vital, Ronald's condition was more urgent. She guessed his state was like an intensified version of everyone else's, amplified tenfold. She, too, was carrying a child—so to survive, she had to find a way out through Ronald.
"I'll join you to find the chief," Kevin agreed.
At last, Jason, Samantha, Christine, and Timothy would investigate the ancestral hall, while Eric, Kevin, and Nicole set off to see the village chief.
Along the way to the chief's home, Nicole voiced her displeasure:
"I want to go too, but there are too many people there—won't be convenient. There're only a few of us anyway."
No one paid her much attention. After muttering a few words, she changed the subject and thanked Eric: "Good thing you alerted us in time."
Kevin added, "Thanks. I have a big appetite. Had you not warned me, I'd have eaten two more bowls of porridge before noticing anything wrong." The more he ate, the stronger and more uncontrollable his gluttony became.
Eric felt a pang of awkwardness. "Even without my warning, you'd have snapped out of it soon enough." She understood that she didn't lack food and need not ration her meals; facing a lavish breakfast, she remained comparatively composed. The male players' appetites were naturally bigger; when Eric was full to bursting, they might still be at seventy or eighty percent satisfaction, so she was able to recover consciousness faster and expose the trap.
Returning to the matter at hand.
"Have you uncovered any leads regarding the village chief's residence? Yesterday, while inspecting together with Ronald, I noticed several houses of considerable size, seemingly belonging to the village's affluent families," Eric remarked.
"In this scenario, the village chief holds a high status, so his dwelling should be relatively grand. Let us examine each candidate meticulously," Kevin concurred without objection.
By employing this rather cumbersome approach, the three located the chief's abode.
The village chief was seated in the sun behind the door, exuding an air of utter contentment. Upon hearing Eric's purpose, he remained unmoved, gently waving his paddy fan. "He incurred the wrath of the Child-Giving Goddess; this is his just punishment."
Is refusal to drink the child-giving soup truly met with such retribution?
Suppressing her anger, Eric pressed on, "Another companion of mine appears to be carrying twins; her appetite has grown voracious. Is there any way to alleviate this?"
The village chief regarded her with a strange gaze. "An increased appetite during pregnancy is a blessing; the more you eat, the healthier the child grows. Surely, you will birth a plump and robust infant!"
His eyes gleamed with fervent zeal as they fixed upon Eric's belly. "You must shed all worries now that you carry a child. Eat well, sleep more, and rest thoroughly, so you may soon bring forth a healthy plump babe."
The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down Eric's spine. She stepped back two paces, a shadow falling before her.
"Chief, I have no fondness for plump babies; I prefer delicate and adorable little ones," Kevin interposed, stepping before Eric and disregarding the chief's eerie demeanor, continuing, "Can you help me bear a child that is dainty and exquisite?"
The chief's smile vanished, replaced by a sinister glare towards Kevin. "The Child-Giving Goddess favors plump infants."
"But the child I bear must be the one I cherish."
"That, you cannot decide. This is no ordinary child, but a spiritual infant bestowed by the Child-Giving Goddess herself! If you defy, the spiritual infant will not spare you!" With these ominous words, the chief rose and retreated indoors, slamming the door shut.
This visit yielded nothing but frustration.
Nicole voiced her concern, "The chief mentioned we must fulfill all the spiritual infant's demands. If acquiring vast quantities of food is one such demand, should we comply or resist?" She rubbed her belly; despite having overeaten breakfast, a faint hunger still gnawed at her. Could anyone truly consume so much?
"The chief also said that either in three days at the soonest, or at most five days, we must leave. Does this 'leaving' mean the appearance of the mission's completion circle?" Eric pondered the scarce information gleaned from the chief. "Must we deliver the spiritual infant within five days at the latest?"
Nicole was aghast. "Impossible! Five days is far too short to birth a child!"
"But we are not carrying ordinary children, but spiritual infants. After breakfast, all our bellies have swollen; Christine's is the most noticeably large, carrying twins," Eric glanced down at her own abdomen, feeling a subtle bulge already forming. This rapid progression suggested that giving birth within five days might not be beyond the realm of possibility.
"Let us return and check on Ronald's condition. Jason and the others have gone to the ancestral hall; perhaps they will uncover some clues," Kevin suggested.
The trio made their way back to the main courtyard. Upon entering the living room, Eric heard some stirring from the adjoining room, unease tightening within her. The door was barricaded by a broomstick wedged diagonally in the handle, securing Ronald inside.
"You heard that too, right?" she asked Nicole and Kevin.
"There sounds like chewing... but what could Ronald be eating?" Nicole frowned. "Furniture? Chairs? Tables? The bed itself?"
"You two stay on either side; I'll open the door," Kevin said, brandishing a stick and gesturing for Eric and Nicole to stand back.
Carefully, he removed the broomstick and cautiously opened the door, wary of Ronald making a sudden escape.
No sign of Ronald was immediately visible.
"Looks like he's on the bed," Eric observed, catching sight of a shadow—a single foot dangling from the bed's edge. Her nostrils flared slightly; the air carried a scent reminiscent of—blood? The coppery tang of blood!
Steeling herself, Eric gripped a fruit knife, while Kevin, holding the stick, took the lead. Nicole followed close behind.
Crunch, crunch.
The chewing sounds grew louder, resembling a dog gnawing on a bone. Nicole, too, detected the metallic odor of blood. Whatever Ronald was consuming was certainly not furniture.
What else but poultry?
That seemed impossible; not a single chicken was visible anywhere in the village. It appeared no household kept fowl, and the courtyard where the players stayed was similarly barren.
Then what on earth was Ronald eating?
Kevin was the first to glimpse the grisly scene upon the bed—a sight far more horrifying than Ronald's swollen belly from that morning. Ronald lay slumped against the headboard, one foot dangling off the bed, the other clutched painfully in his grasp, brought agonizingly close to his mouth.
Crunch, crunch.
Ronald was gnawing at his own right foot!
The flesh on his calf had been stripped bare, exposing the pale bones beneath.
Crimson blood soaked the bamboo mat and dripped to the floor, pooling darkly on the rough, mottled stone tiles.
Slurp! Ronald savored the flesh, drawing in a vigorous suck of blood, his expression one of blissful intoxication.
Nausea surged up Kevin's throat; he staggered back, covering his mouth.
Eric lagged slightly behind and witnessed the ghastly sight—terror seized her utterly.
A sharp, sour wave rose in her throat; the blood's scent in the room intensified, permeating every pore, thick and revolting. Without hesitation, she fled the room, footsteps following close behind—Nicole's rapid strides.
"Wah!" Nicole dropped to her knees and vomited.
Eric had held her stomach until then; but at Nicole's retching, she could no longer contain herself and bent over, ejecting several heaves.
After expelling the bitter liquid, Eric swallowed hard to suppress her nausea, her spirits sinking. She glanced toward Nicole and saw the same: they had both vomited nothing but bitter bile—no traces of food.
Having consumed such a copious breakfast less than two hours prior, how had it completely digested so swiftly?
As she turned back, Kevin emerged, his hands stained with blood.