Chapter 259 Philosopher

When the old woman came, she came with a wheelchair. It was as if she brought her own seat; while the pregnant woman who came behind took up two chairs by herself.

Even counting the "sister" who is still cooking, there is still one person missing at this table.

There is always a chair vacant.

And Annan took the opportunity to get up, trying to check the note on the wall.

What was written on it seemed to be a message board.

It used to be occasionally in the storefronts around the school, with a lot of sticky notes written on it.

Some people use it as a confession wall, some people use it as a place to show their affection, and some people use it as a place to check in as a souvenir. The shop owner can take it as a proof of popularity...

And the note posted on this message board is almost like this post-it note:

"Today is my father's death day, and tomorrow is my birthday. He said he would come back after my birthday.

"He's a liar.

"He is also a hero, because my sister said that he died on the battlefield. In a foreign land. He died in a place I couldn't see. I wanted to worship, but I didn't know which direction to kneel. No matter what, he will always be I can't come back either."

For example, post-it notes like this one.

It's not so much a "keep as a souvenir" but a diary of some kind.

The difference is that this diary is open to others to read - Annan has read it here for a long time, and others have seen his actions long ago, but no one has ever stopped this "old man" from peeping into other people's privacy . From this point of view, this behavior may be allowed here.

"……what?"

Annan suddenly noticed that a piece of paper was stained with a few dark red marks.

It looked like dried blood—more precisely, blood fingerprints. It was like the fingertips of the person who pressed the note on it had blood that hadn't dried up.

The first sentence of the note caught Annan's attention:

"Is this world... really real?"

It was a stroke of fear.

It seems to be a note written with sweat, and the wet curl of the paper can be seen.

"I feel something is wrong. Although I can hear the radio, it seems that there is a whole world outside; although I still have my childhood companions in my memory... But it is undeniable that I have not seen it for several years. See you outsider again.

"Including me, there are only eight people in this village. Where did our food, clothing, housing and transportation come from? Why is there only one worker in the factory? Where did the old woman sell the products produced?

"So I make a bold guess: our world is false!

"When the sun rises tomorrow, I will run away! I want to see if the world outside this village really exists!"

... What kind of talent is this?

If he is a lunatic, his logic seems to be quite clear, and his worries are more reasonable; but if he is a wise man, the last bold guess is so jumpy by a billion points...

Annan thought about it, and looked back at several people.

He remembered that the "old woman" from before urged the "yellow hair" to return to work tomorrow;

"Lady" will give birth tomorrow;

The owner of the first note, tomorrow is his birthday;

The owner of the second note intends to verify the authenticity of this world tomorrow...

If Annan's guess is correct, the eight people present should all have certain expectations for "tomorrow"...

—or rather, fear.

"The food is ready!"

At this moment, a gentle girl's voice sounded.

Annan turned around with his back bent.

A girl in a goose yellow turtleneck sweater, with smooth black long hair and glasses, came out of the kitchen with the last dish.

Seeing Annan standing by the wall, she smiled lightly, with two beautiful dimples on her cheeks: "Abbe, let's eat first."

"it is good."

Annan, who was still collecting information, nodded obediently, and sat down at the table following their wishes.

Undoubtedly, from Annan's point of view, all the dishes on the table are delicacies. And everything is what he likes to eat...

From smoked beef burgers, egg tarts, half-cooked cheese, to pickled pork with preserved vegetables, cola chicken wings, boiled pork slices, and claypot rice. On top of that, there was a huge tomahawk steak and a crispy roast suckling pig, which by no means was the kind of meal a young girl could cook in a few hours in such a humble kitchen.

Annan has not seen such a home-style and modern meal for a long time.

But Annan didn't care about moving the chopsticks, but observed the girl called "Sister"—yes, there were actually chopsticks on the table, not just knives and forks.

She looked no more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

Also like everyone else, he has a face similar to that of Annan.

"Give it to me, sister."

A strong man with a calm demeanor walked over and took the dish from the girl.

This strong man in his early thirties said "sister" to a girl who was only in her teens... This made Annan feel strange.

But the others acted as if they hadn't noticed anything, and there was no abnormality on their faces. This sense of surprise gave Annan a strong sense of unreality.

My sister glanced around and asked, "Where's the philosopher?"

"He didn't come!"

Huang Mao, who was the first to move his chopsticks, stuffed his mouth full of food, and answered first: "I haven't seen him all day!"

……philosopher.

Annan heard the "name" of the last person.

If nothing else, this should be the person who left the second note.

But another doubt popped up in Annan's mind - there were obviously only ten people in this village, if Huangmao hadn't seen him all day, then why did his note stay here?

"Abbe, don't you want to eat?"

My sister asked from the side.

It was an extremely gentle, almost respectful tone, but Annan's intuition felt a vague danger inexplicably.

As if—something terrible would happen if he didn't eat.

"A little distracted, sister."

Annan showed a simple and honest smile on his face, and picked up the chopsticks.

He purposely called his sister to see the reaction of others. The result is that no one finds it odd.

...The rules of this nightmare, I probably understand a little bit.

Annan thought to himself.

But some more information needs to be gathered.

If I guessed correctly... I should be able to hear the news of that "philosopher"'s death soon.

—Is this the last supper?

The taste of the food is really as delicious as it looks. It's better to say it's wonderful-every food is comparable to the peak state in Annan's memory, and it's so wonderful that people can't help admiring it.

Even Annan, who was wary at first, couldn't help but move his chopsticks a little more.

But even Annan, who was immersed in the food wholeheartedly, was also vaguely observing his surroundings.

Although his own abilities are inexplicably unusable here... But Annan's soul quality has not declined. His instinct told him that someone was observing him in a similar way to himself.

No accidents happened until Annan was full.

"—The sunset today is beautiful.

"How about I give you a divination?"

The old woman lying on the wheelchair with her head tilted suddenly smiled and said, "Is it just after dinner?"