Since entering the dungeon, Song Qi basically gave him sweets.

Mo Yi pursed his lips thoughtfully and quickly reviewed his performance after entering the dungeon in his heart - he was sure that he did not show any obvious preference for sweets.

Song Qi himself said that he doesn't like sweets.

Then why did he put so many sweets into the copy? Is it for the high calorie and portability of the candy?

It seems to make sense...?

At this moment, the team stopped moving.

Mo Yi blinked, threw all kinds of unrestrained guesses into his mind, and raised his head to look at the front of the team.

They have arrived at the door of the library at this moment.

The dim corridor is long and tortuous, and the hall behind me is flashing with a small and confusing halo in a distant place. The half door in front of me is soaked in the half-abnormal darkness. A small half of the sign on the door is covered with old dirt. The other half can barely see the small words "Library" clearly.

The people walking at the front of the team were a little hesitant.

After all, the last man was hanged here.

He took a deep breath, turned his head to look at the many people following behind him, and he was brave enough to put his hand on the door handle.

Just twisted it gently and the door opened silently.

Obviously, it was the door left by the man who died yesterday.

A cold and gloomy smell spread over the surface, mixed with the old smell of books and the ever-present dusty atmosphere.

The light inside was unexpectedly bright, which made everyone feel relieved. Seeing everyone in front of them one after another, Mo Yi's footsteps couldn't help but pause.

He turned his head and looked at the door that was closed beside him.

The door mat is slightly lower than other rooms. The door frame looks rough and crooked, and the workmanship is extremely rough. The color of the door panel is no longer visible. Only on the side of the door, it is written with vague crayons and slanted: "Toy Room".

Now is not the time to go in.

Mo Yi stopped at the door without any trace for a last glance, then turned around and followed the team's tail and walked in.

The space inside the door is not big, there are two floors of space. Deep in the library is the library, where donated books are placed, and the room outside is a place for class.

The ground was bare and there were no carpets. There were several dirty and low benches and long tables arranged vertically, with empty and thick dust.

Mo Yi stood by the door and saw the entire room at a glance.

He slowly narrowed his eyes.

Now he finally knew where his sense of incongruity came from.

This room is just like the restaurant, and it's too small.

In the longest corridor, there are a place for all orphans to rest. There are twelve rooms in the corridor, six on each side.

There are six beds in a room. In total, this orphanage should be able to accommodate 72 children, but... whether it is a restaurant or a classroom, these public places responsible for accommodating all the population of the entire orphanage (including nurses and children) are built in an extremely small way, and can only accommodate half of the people at most.

Even if the orphanage did not accommodate enough people after it was built, it should not have planned these houses so narrowly during construction.

This is unreasonable.

Mo Yi took a deep breath and left this question in his heart.

He turned his head and looked at Song Qi beside him, and was about to tell him what he had experienced last night, but he saw Song Qi speak first:

"Let's find some clues separately."

His voice seemed particularly clear in the quiet room. Several other players looked up at him and nodded in response.

Mo Yi's eyes became darker and he swallowed the words he hadn't said to him.

Why did he feel... Song Qi is deliberately avoiding the topic he wants to talk about?

But there shouldn't be a second person to know about what happened last night except himself.

Is this an illusion?

Mo Yi looked at Song Qi deeply, then turned around and walked into the room, determined to explore the place well during this period of morning.

He took the lead in going to the library.

Generally speaking, places with documentary materials are the places where valuable information is most likely to be obtained.

The library is relatively narrow compared to the classroom. The uneven ground and crooked walls almost make people worry that it is in danger of sudden collapse.

The whole room was quite dark and almost unseen. The walls and ground were bare, and there were not even dirty wallpapers or shabby carpets. Mo Yi could almost assert that this was the simplest room in the entire orphanage.

In this narrow room, two low bookshelves were placed in a skew manner, with some paper and books piled up on them, emitting the smell of old book pages.

Mo Yi turned on the portable flashlight, and a little dizzy light instantly illuminated the small area.

He approached, reached out and picked up the pile of worn papers placed on the top, shaking gently.

The thick dust rose up instantly and flew in a mess under the beam of the flashlight. Mo Yi was so excited that he couldn't help but coughed a few times before he recovered.

The dust covered on the pages was brushed away, revealing the vague handwriting eroded by the mottled and years.

Most of the papers and books are crippled by insects, and the handwriting left on them is extremely difficult to identify due to improper preservation. Most of the paper and books here are wired.

Mo Yi did not discourage, but became more focused.

Generally speaking, how vague and worthless these written materials are, instead proves the value of those written materials that have not been destroyed.

Finally, he came across something in one of the books.

It was a thin piece of paper, randomly clamped into the book as a bookmark, it turned yellow and crisp, and it was almost transparent under the light of the flashlight.

Mo Yi held his breath, reached out his hand, pinched the edge of the paper with his slender and even slightly thin fingers, and lifted it up.

On that piece of paper, a hanging villain was drawn in clumsy handwriting.

On the top and bottom of the paper, a few staggered letters were written in colorful crayons, which was confusing.

All the handwriting on it is old, covered with dust and dirty, and even a few greasy little handprints. It is completely different from the note on each of them-all the crayon marks on those notes are brand new, as if they had just written them.

Mo Yi's eyes were full of brilliance, and his pale face was also flushed with a little flushing.

Now, this game has become what he is familiar with.

What he needed to do was to find another piece of paper corresponding to it, drawing a gallows.

Mo Yi carefully put the paper back into the book, closed the book, then picked up the book and put it under his armpit, and continued to flip through the dusty pile of old papers, looking for more clues.

He did not find the paired gallows, but he found another interesting clue.

It was an old newspaper, which was already worn and yellow, falling between the two bookshelfs in dust. Perhaps it was a handwritten by some naughty orphanage child, who had been folded into the shape of a paper crane and lay down on the cold and dirty ground in despair.

Mo Yi squatted down and picked it up, then carefully took it apart.

However, no matter how cautious his movements were, it could not withstand the long years that the newspaper crane had experienced, and it was inevitably broken into pieces during the process of disassembling them.

Mo Yi frowned in a little annoyed and tried to spell the old newspaper back to its original appearance along the crease.

To be precise, this is not a newspaper in the full sense, but a piece cut from a pair of newspapers. The edges are not neat and some pictures and prints are not very complete.

On the most complete piece of fragment is a bold and enlarged black title: "The director of the Iris Municipal Orphanage was divided by hang."

Below is a picture of the size of a tofu chunk.

In the blurred picture with black and white background, a tall woman in black clothes was wearing a black dress with her hands on her newly built orphanage. Several black ink blocks formed her blurred facial features, staring at the person staring at her outside the newspaper.

A cold sweat broke out from behind Mo Yi.

I don’t know whether it was out of fear or the excitement that spreads over the gradual approach to the truth.

His breathing became rapid, and he narrowed his eyes and tried hard to identify the remaining characters - but there might be some tide underground. He stopped here in newspapers for many years. Except for the larger title, the rest of the rest were blurred by the moisture, and the ink and ink were connected together, and the original shape could not be distinguished.

Mo Yi was a little disappointed. He thought about it and then put the broken old newspaper in the same book, and stuffed it into the outer bag of his backpack.

He stood up and looked around the room again for a week, and after confirming that he had basically examined all corners of big and small, obvious or hidden sizes, he turned and left the library.

As soon as he walked out, Mo Yi met Song Qi.

Mo Yi's eyes turned around the whole room: Now other players have basically dispersed, and no one has noticed the movements here.

It's a great opportunity to tell me what I had last night's experience.

Mo Yi's mind turned like lightning. The next second, he raised his eyes and showed a polite smile at Song Qi-and then turned his body to the road to the library.

The two passed by.

Mo Yi turned his back to Song Qi, and the curve of the corners of his mouth gradually converged.

There was no emotion in his eyes as dark as ink, but he seemed a little indifferent for a moment.

His trust has always been stingy.

And in the crisis-ridden copy, there should be more of a mind.

Mo Yi calmed down and looked up at this simple classroom.

It is larger than the library and not so shabby. The dark green wallpaper that looks the same as the corridor is randomly and sloppy on the wall. The edges are broken and the color is dark. Only some difficult-to-reach corners still retain their original color.

The benches and tables are roughly crafted and placed in extremely scattered places.

At this moment, Sun Xiaoyan, who was standing at the end of the room, suddenly spoke, "I... seem to have found something here."

Mo Yi's eyebrows and eyes sternly sternly, then he raised his legs and walked over.

The other players in the room also gathered in the direction of Sun Xiaoyan. Soon, they surrounded one of the long tables.

Sun Xiaoyan stretched out his finger, pointed to a corner of the table, and said, "Look at it, although these scratches are very old, they are still very clear."

I saw a few lines of crooked writing on the edge of the long table:

“undereryourbones
To be continued...