RNP Chapter 525 Wan'er, help me heal my "wounds"
Chapter 525 Wan'er, help me heal my "wounds"
The four of them finally turned their attention to the sixth rule.
Before lights out each day, the roommates need to jointly confirm one shared experience or one piece of art they've all watched.
If the details or sequence of events someone recounts do not match everyone's memory, then that person may no longer be the complete person they were.
[From now on, do not have any further conversations with him. Report this matter to Su Wan immediately the next day.]
"This one..." Derek carefully chose his words, "is more uncomfortable than the others."
Nikolai adjusted his glasses. "That's to be expected. The essence of this rule isn't to guard against external threats, but rather to guard against—the people among us."
Derek's thick eyebrows furrowed: "You mean, out of the four of us, one of us might turn into... something inhuman?"
The room was silent for two seconds.
Wasim crossed his arms: "We need to come up with a solution; we can't wait until things get tough to figure it out."
Lin Feng pondered for a moment, then said, "The plan consists of three parts: timeline, identification mechanism, and response measures."
"First, set a time. Lights out is at 11 p.m. The rules require confirmation 'before lights out every day,' so we can't wait until 11 p.m. to confirm. If someone has a problem, there won't be time to deal with it."
"Then let's set it for 10:40," Vassim said.
"Confirming twenty minutes before lights out is enough time," Vassim explained. "If a problem arises, the fact that the lights are about to go out will also limit the person who caused the problem from talking to us."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Then there's the identification mechanism," Nikolai said, counting on his fingers, "The rules say, 'The details or sequence don't match everyone's memory'—the question is, who determines 'everyone's memory'?"
"If three people are right and one is wrong, that's easy to handle; the minority should abide by the majority. But what if two are right and two are wrong?"
Lin Feng chimed in, his tone decisive: "That's easy. If it becomes a 2v2 situation, we'll change the topic and reconfirm it, continuing until a 3v1 situation arises."
The other three thought about it for a moment and all agreed that the method was sound.
Just then, the door was pushed open.
Su Wan walked in, followed by A Ying and A Que.
After looking around, Su Wan tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Lin Feng's face.
There are a few things I need to tell you.
"First, maintaining dormitory hygiene is very important."
"Dirty, messy, and poor conditions not only affect your own living environment, but more seriously, they may attract unclean things."
"Secondly, don't go out for walks unless necessary, and especially don't go upstairs."
"Third," Su Wan's tone relaxed slightly, "room 30 in the basement is a small lounge with books, a pool table, and music."
"If you're really bored, you can go there to kill some time."
Derek, who had been leaning lazily against the bedpost, suddenly tensed up like a spring when he heard the words "billiard table."
Lin Feng's mind was racing.
Su Wan finally came to the dormitory, so this was a golden opportunity to gain favor with her.
But he couldn't be too deliberate; any overly obvious attempts to please her would not only fail to earn him points but would also arouse her suspicion.
He needs something.
It was something that didn't seem intentional, but which just happened to require her help.
Something that allows her to get close to him, touch him, and in the process, generate some kind of emotional fluctuation that she herself cannot explain.
He turned his back to his bed and pretended to tidy up his pillows.
His right hand slipped silently into his collar, his fingertips touching the skin of his chest.
nail.
He doesn't need any tools.
After experiencing so many instances, he has developed an extremely refined level of control over his body.
I lightly scratched along the outer edge of my left pectoral muscle with my fingernail—not long, about four centimeters, just enough to break the skin and draw blood, but not enough to cause any real damage.
The pain came on very quickly.
He took a deep breath and turned around.
"Section Chief Su," his voice was soft and his tone natural, "could I ask you for a small favor?"
Su Wan was about to walk towards the door when she paused and turned to look at him.
"explain."
Lin Feng tapped his chest with his right index finger, his expression somewhat helpless:
"I accidentally got scratched by a fingernail while I was scratching myself."
"The wound isn't big, but I heard that S-rank heals such minor injuries easily, so..."
He paused for a moment, then gave a slightly embarrassed smile.
"I was thinking of asking if I could ask you for a favor, so I don't have to wait for it to heal on its own."
Su Wan's gaze fell on the spot he pointed to.
The shirt covered the wound, but Lin Feng's expression didn't seem like he was making up a story.
"Show us the wound," Su Wan said.
Lin Feng nodded and raised his hand to unbutton his shirt one button at a time.
The shirt was taken off and draped over the bed rail.
The room fell silent for a moment.
In terms of physique, Lin Feng is second to none among this group of male chosen ones.
What's remarkable is that it's just right—unlike Derek, a former boxer whose muscles are bulging too much and have lost their sense of proportion.
Lin Feng is the kind of person whose looks grow on you.
Broad and relaxed shoulders, full but not exaggerated chest muscles, clear and neat abdominal muscles, and a tight and clean waist and abdomen.
The light outlined the curves of light and shadow on his body, perfectly highlighting the contours of his muscles—any more would be too much, any less would be insufficient.
The moment Su Wan's gaze fell on his chest, her pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.
The wound wasn't large, located slightly above the left pectoral muscle, about four centimeters long, a shallow scratch with fine beads of blood seeping from the edges.
The wound itself was not serious, and could not even be called a "wound".
But it is precisely because it is so light, so light that it is not worth mentioning, that it gives the whole scene a subtle, indescribable meaning.
He could have easily waited for it to scab over on his own, but he chose to ask her for help.
Su Wan felt an uncontrollable heat rising on her cheeks.
She quickly attributed it to the room being too stuffy and poorly ventilated, rather than anything else.
Her gaze lingered on that pectoral muscle for about a second longer, a time so short that others could hardly notice it, but so long that she herself knew it clearly.
She swallowed.
"This superficial injury," she said, a little slower than usual, as if trying to maintain a professional composure, "is indeed very easy to heal. Wait a moment."
She raised her right hand, slowly bringing her index finger to her lips, ready to collect saliva.
Just then, Ah Ying, who had been standing by the door, suddenly spoke:
"Section Chief Su, please leave this minor injury to me."
She took half a step forward, her tongue already protruding...