The woman looked at me.
Her eyes, which were unmistakably the irises of her eyes, exhibited a disturbing shade of vivid red. At that moment, the living room was not lit, and the curtains were drawn, yet these vividly red eyes emitted a faint glow in the slightly dim space, just like the nocturnal feline, possessing an eerie allure.
I recognize the woman's face, she was in the family photo I found before. If nothing unexpected happens, she should be the mother of Ninghai in this world.
The perspective provided by the game Breeze Aoba has been very helpful for me in understanding the situation.
The woman looked at me in silence, then suddenly came towards me.
I noticed that she was holding an old kitchen knife in her right hand.
"What do you want to do?" I asked in a deliberately sharp tone.
The woman remained silent and steadily walked within three meters of me.
My intuition tells me that she plans to attack me; but the composure brought by my superpowers means I did not act immediately. I don't understand, since this woman is the mother of Ninghai of this world, why would she attack me? Her condition is clearly abnormal, whether it's her refusal to communicate or the underlying aggressiveness in her movements, all of which make me feel incredibly strange.
The woman raised the blade against me.
"Stop."I could hardly stand it anymore.
The woman silently brought down the blade on me, putting the full force of her arm into this attack, even leaning her body forward slightly. Undoubtedly, she was attempting to kill me.
I had no choice but to raise my right hand just before the blade came, aiming my palm at her chest, imagining the scene of a high-pressure water jet.
Imagination is key to my superpowers.
According to my imagination, the invisible psychokinetic force burst out like a real high-pressure water gun; immediately afterward, the woman about to be captured was struck by the psychokinetic force
The person was forcefully knocked away, like a plastic figurine being swept away by a toy water gun, and heavily crashed to the floor five meters away.
As the woman fell, her left hand landed on the left side table, where she accidentally knocked a black remote control.
The television in the living room is turned on.
The news channel was playing, with a beautiful woman in a dark blue business suit presenting an early morning news story, which caught my attention.
"Recently, a mysterious disease called Red Eye is spreading in Beaver City."
The characteristics of the infected individuals are red eyes, intense aggression, and a silent attitude of refusing to communicate
"Please do not approach people with red eyes, and do not go out at night without reason."
"After discovering the patient, please report to the authorities immediately, do not approach them rashly."
"Take active disease prevention measures and ensure food safety."
The woman stood up with difficulty on the wooden floor, looking at me indifferently, her pair of scarlet eyes devoid of any emotional color.
"That's how it is," I said to her, "You are sick, aren't you?"
The woman silently picked up the fallen kitchen knife, ignoring my question.
I carefully observed her.
The red eyes, strong aggression, and silent attitude of refusing to communicate. I see, it's all true. The reason this woman would attack for no apparent reason is...
Did she contract the Red Eye mentioned in the news, is that why you hit her?
I have never heard of this strange disease before.
I know the name of the disease, but it is just a common name for acute conjunctivitis, and it does not cause the patient to attack others.
After arriving in this unfamiliar world, I immediately encountered patients suffering from this unknown disease. Could it be that this "Red Eye" is somehow related to the survival script mentioned in the text message?
The woman rushed forward.
I faced her, raised my right hand again, and imagined my psychic power as a strong and powerful palm.
The hand of mental concentration grasped the woman's ankle.
She who was rushing towards me immediately lost her balance while running, and fell heavily forward. Her face collided forcefully with the floor, making a sound that seemed very painful.
Immediately, she propped herself up with her arms, trying to push herself up.
I made a downward palm gesture, this time imagining a heavy object pressing down on a woman's back.
Women are overburdened, and are being pressed down again.
During my confrontation with this woman, the news continued to play.
"We have invited a senior medical professor from Beaver University. Hello, Professor."
Hello.
I don't know when, but an elderly middle-aged man with white hair appeared on the TV screen. He sat to the left of the female host, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses, with a gloomy expression.
"Can Red Eye be cured?" The host asked the professor.
"I'm afraid I can't at the moment," the professor said slowly. "This is a very strange disease, and not only have we been unable to find a cure, but we don't even know its true nature."
"What is going on?" the host asked puzzledly.
"We conducted a very comprehensive examination of the patient, trying to find the causative bacteria or virus, or any other causative factor. The professor said solemnly, "However, the progress is not optimistic, we cannot find the cause of the disease. After our examination, the patient's vital signs are very stable, although some abnormalities are sometimes found, but they are all sub-health problems caused by the patient's inattention to daily life, and are not related to Red Eye."
"But I've heard that the municipal government has recently announced that there has been a major breakthrough in the research and development of special drugs," the host said.
"The municipal government hired a medical team from the United States, using the most advanced experimental equipment and technology. Their progress is not something our local medical team can compare to." The professor expressed a resigned expression, "With their technical strength, the successful development of a special drug is only a matter of time."
"I see, so it seems the Red Eye crisis in Beaver City will be resolved soon, is that right?" the host asked optimistically.
"That's right," the professor was very confident in the American medical team hired by the municipal government.
I picked up the remote control from the floor and turned off the TV; then I picked up a newspaper from the coffee table and saw an article related to Red Eye. "This disease," I read through the article, "seems to only be spreading in Beaver City?"
The newspaper article points out that Red Eye is an unknown disease that is only spreading in Beaver City, and there are no signs of it spreading to other areas.
Bang, bang, bang
The woman, pressed down by the power of telekinesis, still struggles without giving up.
I withdrew my psychic power and released her. She immediately got up and came at me with a knife.
I raised my right hand, keeping a short distance away, and made a strangling gesture toward her neck.
The woman was immediately restrained by the psychic force, and a red handprint appeared on her neck, with her skin sunken inward.
The invisible hand of mental force pressed upon her carotid artery.
In a short while, she lost consciousness due to a lack of blood supply to her brain and no longer struggled. I withdrew the hand of mental power, and she collapsed directly.
The Earth is unconscious.
I put the newspaper aside.
Red Eye, Survival Screenplay.
If it is all as Breeze Aoba said, a game, then the term "survival script" may be referring to a survival game.
Since it is a survival game, there must be obstacles to survival.
Is this the Red Eye roadblock?
I must admit that without any clues, any reasoning I make is just unreliable assumptions, imaginations without a basis in reality. I have seen countless fictional stories, novels, animations, games, movies... The term "survival game" is not new to me, so I find it hard to not think in that direction.
I even imagined the scene of all the Red Eye people in Beaver City gathering under mysterious guidance and attacking me.
Regardless, the priority is to head to Beaver High School and meet up with Breeze Aoba. I shrugged off these unfounded speculations, put on a pair of sneakers, and left this unfamiliar home.
The Beaver High School is not far from this home, it can be reached by walking for a while.
I had prepared to conduct an online survey of its address, but it was still an unfamiliar city and street, and when I actually traveled, I inevitably asked for directions. The pedestrians I asked for directions, seeing me wearing a Beaver High School uniform, did not know the address of Beaver High School, and although they showed a clearly strange expression, they still pointed out the direction for me.
After a little bit of trouble, I finally entered the teaching building of the school.
The student handbook records the enrollment time, so I can simply calculate that the Ninghai in this world is a third-grade student. Since the teaching buildings here are divided by grade, I came to the corresponding floor.
When I arrived, school had not yet started, and there were scattered students in the hallway.
I took out the black phone and dialed Breeze Aoba's number.
"Is that Aoba? I asked first."
"Eh? Hmm, it's me."Aoba's reaction was strange.
I was a bit slow to react, but in Japan it's not really appropriate to casually use a woman's first name when you've just met her. However, I decided to just skip over that issue. Aoba is a shorter and more natural-sounding Japanese pronunciation than Breeze, and more importantly, changing it now would be awkward, so I'll just play it off as not being aware of the local customs since I'm not Japanese.
"Have you arrived at school?" I asked.
"I have arrived."
Suddenly, I felt something was off, Aoba's voice seemed to come from two different directions at the same time.
I put down my phone and looked around.
Three seconds later, I noticed that about ten meters away from me, there was a girl with purple hair and twin tails standing in front of the hallway window.
The girl is wearing a beige-colored school uniform and holding a purple mobile phone, talking on the phone.
If I'm not mistaken, Aoba mentioned that her phone is purple, right?
I went over there.
The girl with twin ponytails is talking on the phone with her back to me.
"Ninghai, Ninghai? Can you hear my voice? Huh, why did you suddenly stop responding?" The girl looked very confused. "Could this phone also be having a signal problem?"
I walked up behind her.
Perhaps she noticed my approach through the reflection in the window glass, the girl turned around and looked at me with a puzzled expression.
I look at her.
"Excuse me, is there anything I can help you with?" the girl asked cautiously.
Because it is in an unfamiliar place, that's why she may have a sense of unease towards those who are close to her. Her state of mind was written all over her face.
I raised my phone and showed her the screen.
The screen displays the message that a call is in progress with Breeze Aoba.
"Eh?" Aoba was stunned for a moment, then showed a slightly surprised expression, "Is it Ninghai?"
Although we are strangers, our shared circumstances have established a fragile trust between us. I believe she does not fully trust me, but at least she may feel a certain level of empathy towards me. We are all victims of the black cell phone, and we naturally have a common ground for cooperation.
No, at this point, the term "black phone" is no longer appropriate. Although my phone is black, Aoba's is purple. From now on, let's call the unseen force that has drawn us into this world the "black curtain."
"It's me." I hung up the call and put away my phone, "Have you seen a third person?"
"The third person? "Aoba asked, "Is it referring to Alphonse Elric among the contacts?"
That's him.
Actually, I had dialed a third person's number on my way to school, but for some reason, this person did not answer.
I don't know why he's not answering the phone, is it because his phone isn't with him? Or is there some other unmentionable reason? I think the two names displayed in the contact list are both victims who have been swept into this world, unaware of the current situation. In such a situation, if my own mysterious phone suddenly received a call, I would certainly be eager to answer it, just like Breeze Aoba did before.
However, this third person, Alphonse Elric, did not answer the call.
This faintly revealed attitude of refusing to communicate added a layer of mystery to his image in my mind.
"I did not see him." Aoba replied to me, "I called his number, but he did not answer."
Are you too?
Where there is one, there is two. I am not surprised by this.
"Why don't you answer?"Aoba was very puzzled.
"Perhaps there is some unmentionable secret," I said. "Aoba, do you know which class you are in?"
The student handbook does not state the student's class, and I do not know which class I am in.
"Yeah, I know." Aoba surprised me again, "After I entered the school, I soon had girls approach me, it should be this world
"My acquaintance, I exchanged a few words with her and then I knew which class I was in."
When she said these words to me, she seemed very at ease.
Each person has their own strengths, and even this seemingly delicate girl is no exception. In comparison, when removing the element of superpowers, I myself am merely an incompetent, ordinary person.
I couldn't help but take a closer look at this girl.
Cute face, petite figure, fair and moist skin, vibrant purple hair, and a white Japanese high school uniform, exuding youthful vigor.
Because she is too small, she looks more like a middle school student than a high school student.
Let me correct that, since this is Japan, we should say junior high school student? Actually, I'm not very familiar with this area, but that's the general idea. "Wh-what's wrong?" Aoba noticed my scrutiny.
"No problem."I brushed it off.
As it turns out, being a high school student is just Aoba's identity in this world, who knows, maybe in her original world she was a middle school student
"That's right." Aoba remembered something, "Ninghai, you're also in the same class as me, so you can just come to my classroom."
This is good news, I don't have to find the classroom myself.
"Furthermore, the students' names are stuck on the desks, so you can just find your own seat based on that." Aoba continued.
The desk had "Ninghai" written on it, so that's how I knew we were all in the same class.
"That's great."
A moment later, it was time for class, and Aoba and I entered the classroom.
Our seats are very close, just in the positions in front and behind. I am in front, Aoba is behind.
After the first class was over.
I emerged from the state of transcendent contemplation.
As mentioned earlier, I am a mediocre person with no strengths other than supernatural powers, and this is also the case when it comes to learning. It may be because of this.
The Ninghai of this world is also the reason for the poor students, and the teachers who teach the courses do not interfere with my dazed behavior, and they seem to be quite accustomed to it.
But compared to me, Aoba should have a harder time, right? She looks like just a middle school student, will she be able to handle high school classes?
In my spare time, I raised this issue with Aoba.
"No, no, that's not it!" Aoba said, blushing. "I'm not a middle school student!"
"Isn't it? Isn't that right?" I looked at her in surprise.
Are all the elementary school students developing so well these days?
Aoba seemed to have seen through my thoughts and became even more excited.
"I'm not a elementary school student!"
"Oh, could it be that you were originally a high school student? If that's the case, I apologize, I misunderstood you."
"I'm not a high school student either!" Aoba argued firmly, "I've already graduated from high school and am now a working member of society!"
What? I vaguely heard the sound of thunder, even though it's a clear day outside.
"How old are you?" I could not hide my disbelief.
"Eighteen years old," Aoba replied.
"Surprisingly better than me..."I couldn't go on.
The girl I mistook for a middle school student is actually an adult older than me?
"How old are you, Ninghai?" Aoba asked.
She really chose this timing to ask, I don't know if it was intentional or just a coincidence.
Just as I hesitated whether to answer honestly, there was a sound of a desk falling in the corner of the classroom.
My attention and Aoba's attention were both drawn to that place.
A female student suddenly stood up, staring at her classmates around her with a blank expression, her eyes shining in an eerie shade of bright red.
