Yes, Chizuko.
Ming Po had already realized it.
The wandering spirit lingering here was not the "father"—but the "daughter."
It wasn't difficult to deduce.
Earlier, when Ming Po had mocked him for buying a Steinway without knowing how to cherish it, and even ntioned his wife's infidelity, the entity had shown absolutely no reaction.
But the mont Ming Po ntioned that there was sothing under the piano keys, it had suddenly turned hostile.
If the entity truly cared so much about this piano, how could it have let it beco so dilapidated?
This was not reality.
It was more like a ntal landscape ford by this nightmare, or perhaps it was the "nightmare" itself.
In other words, these changes only existed because the entity had subconsciously caused them or deliberately designed them this way.
From this perspective, participating in a Promotion ga—in a sense—was equivalent to entering soone's dreamscape to treat their psychological illness.
And for "Professor Hannibal," nothing could be simpler.
Ming Po stepped back into the first-floor piano room.
The place where every loop ended and began.
He continued to casually chat with the master of this nightmare. "Of course, it's not because there's anything wrong with your playing. It wasn't your technique that gave you away—that told it was you, rather than your father.
"In fact, based on technique alone, I genuinely thought it was your father sitting here at first. That's why I mocked him, hoping to force him to reveal a flaw.
"You're a genius, Chizuko. They have every right to be proud of you."
As Ming Po finished speaking, the sound of the piano grew heavier. The keys were struck with greater force, and a few entirely new chords were added.
It was a form of response.
It felt like a rebuttal, yet it was laced with a hint of panic and confusion.
But since the lody hadn't stopped, it ant the conversation could continue.
Ming Po reached out and brushed a hand over the tea set, whispering, "The tea set is covered in dust—guests haven't visited in a long ti.
"Your family fell on hard tis, didn't they? This Russian nesting doll was a gift for you, right?
"Did your dad give it to you?"
Hearing a few sudden, discordant notes, Ming Po realized, "Oh, your mother gave it to you.
"You liked it a lot, right?"
There was no response, and the piano music flowed on as usual.
Ming Po, however, wasn't panicked in the slightest.
He knew his guess couldn't be wrong, and the corners of his mouth curled into a slight smile. "That's why you feel guilty.
"Because you used the thing your mother gave you, your favorite thing—and it caused them to fight."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three consecutive, discordant notes were violently struck, echoing with anger.
The piano music ca to an abrupt halt.
Yet Ming Po continued talking, unfazed. "You hid her ring, didn't you?
"But she thought her ring had been taken and sold.
"So they had a fight.
"So the photograph was thrown to the ground.
"You were very sad. You wanted to pick up the picture, but your finger was accidentally cut by the broken glass.
"It hadn't healed by the ti you practiced the piano, and the blood seeped into the cracks between the keys.
"Or rather—was it because the keys pinched you?"
The mont Ming Po finished speaking, it was as if a poltergeist had appeared in the room.
The piano suddenly began playing erratically, producing a barrage of discordant, twisted noise.
Crash!
Behind him, the tea set plumted to the floor, shattering into pieces. It was as if soone had violently swept it off the table.
The lights went out once more.
A bald, middle-aged man dressed as a doctor, wearing a surgical mask, appeared in the doorway.
He gripped a chainsaw in his hands, his pupils glowing crimson behind black-rimd glasses.
In the very next instant, the man materialized directly in front of Ming Po.
The chainsaw buzzed as it swept right past Ming Po's face!
Ming Po nimbly dodged three consecutive attacks.
He adjusted his glasses, watching the middle-aged man slowly collapse to the floor.
At so point, a dagger had been planted squarely in his heart—the movent was so fast it was impossible to track.
"My dear, there's no need to struggle anymore."
Ming Po sounded like the Big Bad Wolf coaxing a little girl to open the door, his voice gentle and soothing. "You can't kill .
"Your ability must be related to fear. That's why Deceivers of the World from the Domain of Force are restricted from entering, and why you try to scare before attacking.
"But right now—"
Ming Po slowly pulled out the dagger. "The one who is afraid is you."
His words carried no malice, yet they sent a chill down the spine.
His amber eyes gazed back at the path he had taken. "You aren't afraid of , Chizuko. You are afraid of that door that won't open.
"How long have you been trapped here? Are you lonely?
"Can you sleep? Do you suffer from insomnia? Do you wake up startled from your dreams? Or is this place your dream?
"When you feel lonely, don't you want soone to talk to?"
As he spoke, Ming Po forcefully lifted the C key on the piano.
Hidden beneath the key was a photograph.
It was a torn picture of her mother.
She looked so gentle. But the photograph had yellowed, severed into many pieces by the piano key, and was even stained with blood.
"You don't like this piano, do you? Because you think your father only started changing after he got it.
"He participated in the Ga of Deception, and he beca a Deceiver of the World. He changed the past, turned your family into socialites, and improved your lives.
"But you would rather he sit in front of that worn-out, but well-maintained Apollo and teach you how to play, right?"
There was no response.
But Ming Po's psychological assault didn't stop.
"Your mother is dead."
Ming Po's voice turned cold and indifferent. "Suicide or accident? It doesn't matter. But until her death, she never knew that you were the one who hid the ring.
"She will never see your apology, and she will never co back.
"Your father didn't change any of this—therefore, he had already lost his abilities as a Deceiver of the World.
"He noticed your sorrow, noticed that he had neglected his family for far, far too long. But he didn't have enough chips to remain in the Material Realm indefinitely. So he gave up his identity as a Deceiver of the World and beca an ordinary person.
"You were his fetters.
"But after losing his identity as a Deceiver of the World, you couldn't maintain your lifestyle for long.
"And when his wife died, he was powerless to do anything about it.
"After that—perhaps he disappeared, perhaps he died. He wanted to beco one of the Wronged Dead again, to reclaim the power of a Deceiver of the World.
"But he failed.
"And you succeeded."
Ming Po's whispers were tinged with blood. "You beca strong enough; you beca a Deceiver of the World at the Zhou's Azure Lead rank. You reversed the past, altered the annals of history. You resurrected both your parents, so they could live happily together.
"The only price was—you were left behind in here forever.
"Are you unwilling, Chizuko?
"What are you afraid of? What is your true fear? Is it ? I don't think so.
"What you fear is this door. You want soone to open it from the outside, but you are also terrified of soone opening it."
Ming Po's voice paused for a mont.
In that instant, his downcast gaze was gentle, almost rciful.
"Don't be afraid."
The Big Bad Wolf murmured softly, "I am just here to help you open the door."
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