Chapter 14: Mutual Exclusion

"Woof, woof! Woof, woof, woof—"

Jon was jolted awake by the urgent barking of a dog.

"What's going on?" He opened his bleary eyes and immediately smelled something burning.

Jon quickly sat up. He had previously noted that the cabin's fireplace was well-designed, with almost no smoke escaping into the room.

If he could smell it on the second floor, something must definitely be on fire.

He quickly got up, moved the table blocking the door, and headed outside. If the cabin caught fire, it would be a disaster.

Any damage would severely compromise the insulation of the house.

The ranger might pose a threat to him as well.

Jon rushed to the first-floor living room and found the blanket was on fire. He hurriedly doused it with water, thankfully preventing a major disaster.

"How did this blanket catch fire?" Jon took a deep breath and mumbled to himself.

Still groggy from being woken up, his mind was a bit foggy.

But he quickly realized that the dog must have had something to do with it.

Did the dog, feeling cold after Jon went upstairs to sleep, jump onto the sofa and drag the blanket to lie on it?

And then the fireplace flames accidentally ignited the blanket?

Rubbing his chin, Jon considered this possibility. After all, this dog used to be human.

For some unknown reason, it had transformed into a dog but retained human thoughts and consciousness, though sometimes it was overridden by canine instincts.

He grabbed a match from above the fireplace and took a candle from the wooden box on the dining table.

After lighting the candle, Jon began to survey the room.

He suddenly noticed a puddle of pale yellow liquid on the floor.

It was covered with frothy bubbles and was relatively thick, so it wasn't dog urine.

It looked more like vomit mixed with stomach acid.

Perplexed, he muttered, "What's wrong with this dog?"

Jon got up and scanned the living room, searching for the dog, but couldn't find any trace of it on the first floor.

"This is really strange…" Jon murmured as he headed to the second floor.

He checked his and his grandmother's rooms but still didn't find the dog. "Could it be that the dog accidentally set the blanket on fire and hid out of fear?"

At that moment, the searchlight from the ranger's lookout shone through the window.

Jon's brow furrowed, and his breath caught in his throat.

He could clearly see a dark silhouette standing motionless outside the window as the light passed through the curtains.

Finding the dog would have to wait, this was now an urgent situation.

Jon quickly recalled Rule 15—"At night, make sure to draw the curtains. The shadow on the curtain should always be the shadow of trees."

This rule was clearly wrong.

The shadow outside was unmistakably human.

Jon needed time to assess the current situation and determine whether this rule was accurate.

This rule needs to be evaluated in conjunction with other rules, like Rule 16: "If something enters your room and you can't get rid of it, just open the curtains."

Let's assume the worst-case scenario—

If "it" is outside the window, opening the curtains would result in some sort of cognitive contamination.

As soon as Jon made this assumption, he spotted a flaw.

If the silhouette outside the window were "it." his grandmother would not have left this rule. Grandmother had lived in this house for a long time and had ample experience dealing with "it." She would be aware of the cognitive contamination risk.

When she wrote these rules, she would have avoided writing any that were counterintuitive or dangerous.

For example, Jon had deduced a hidden rule: "Do not close the door."

This rule is counterintuitive. Any normal person reading it would think it was a mistake, written under the influence of "it."

Hence, Grandmother didn't write down this rule explicitly but left it for the player to discover through subtle hints.

However, Rule 16, which is clearly counterintuitive, was explicitly written by Grandmother. Additionally, all the curtains in the house were already drawn.

If Grandmother didn't want players to open the curtains, she wouldn't have written this rule at all.

Eliminating any risk of alteration.

Combining this with Rule 15, Grandmother's intention becomes clear—she wanted players to open the curtains if the room was invaded, using the silhouette outside to help expel the intruder.

It's even possible that the silhouette outside is tasked with helping to drive "it" away.

The latter half of Rule 15 is almost meaningless.

The crucial part is the first half: "Draw the curtains." Even if altered to "open the curtains." it would still serve Grandmother's purpose.

If Rule 16 were altered to "draw the curtains." it would be immediately apparent as a mistake.

Because the curtains are already closed.

For "it." not altering the rule and making players too afraid to open the curtains would be a better strategy.

However, for Jon, who had discovered the hidden rule, this made no difference.

A simple logical analysis could confirm the rule's correctness.

As for why Grandmother didn't just remove the curtains, it suggests the curtains had a purpose. Perhaps the silhouette outside, while helping the player, could also have some adverse effects.

Jon had already analyzed this.

Whether it's the dog or "it." both can extract "Psyche" from the player.

Perhaps the shadow outside, and even the ranger, also covet the player's "Psyche."

Therefore, the curtains should only be opened when the room is invaded.

After using the shadow outside to drive away the intruder, the curtains must be closed again.

To prevent the shadow from absorbing too much of the player's Psyche through Gaze.

Jon recalled Rule 7, which states that if strange noises are heard in the house, the player should immediately look out the window towards the lookout tower.

The ranger also absorbs the player's Psyche. 

But can drive away the entity making the strange noises inside the house.

Jon now understood that his Psyche was like a delicious piece of meat.

Every other entity in the forest was a beast, all drooling over this "meat." each trying to devour it in various ways.

However, these entities also had a predator-prey relationship with each other, creating a balance of power.

What the player needed to do was utilize these beasts to fight each other, thereby creating a space for survival with minimal Psyche consumption.

Jon continued his analysis. "Since the dog doesn't make strange noises, the ranger's target must be it.

Therefore, the shadow outside should be able to drive away the dog!"

He recalled what the dog had written on the note: when it fell ill, it would become weak and harm the player. 

Meaning the dog would be controlled by "it" when its Psyche was low.

When Jon first met the dog, its Psyche was already low.

So it was controlled by "it" to extract Jon's Psyche.

The dog's note also mentioned: "The ranger can help you, he also wants..."

This hinted at Rule 7 and confirmed Jon's earlier deduction, forming a complete logical loop.

Jon took a deep breath. The dog had mysteriously disappeared.

If it wasn't being controlled, it would have responded to his call and come out immediately. Therefore, the dog must currently be under "its" control.

Jon turned his head to look at the table he had moved to block the door.

He pieced together the sequence of events: the dog's barking woke him up, he smelled the fire, got up, moved the table, and went downstairs to put out the fire.

All of this was orchestrated by "it." controlling the dog to create an opportunity to infiltrate Jon's room.

If a player wasn't cautious and fell back asleep.

They would be Gaze'd by the dog under "its" control and have all their Psyche stolen.

"So that's how it is." Jon felt a strange sense of exhilaration. The process of deduction made his heart race and blood surge.

Jon thought, "So, right now, the dog controlled by 'it' is hiding in my room."

"The only place it could be hiding is…"

He said as he looked over at his bed. Staring at the bed sheet hanging over the side, he had a sudden sense of déjà vu.

It was as if he could see—a dog with eerily glowing red eyes and a sinister smile, hanging upside down like a spider beneath the bed.