Even at night, workers on the construction site continued their shifts, creating quite a bit of noise. It was as if there was no difference from daytime.
However, if someone stood outside the construction site and looked in, they would notice that the entire building was shrouded in darkness. Even the lights from nearby buildings couldn’t illuminate it in the slightest.
The construction site seemed completely detached from reality, exuding an eerie and foreboding aura. The longer one stared, the more they would feel a creeping sense of dread.
Yet, no one seemed to notice.
As time passed, the temperature in the basement dropped lower and lower, becoming bone-chillingly cold.
The livestream audience had been watching the entire time, so they also saw the lights in the basement flickering on and off repeatedly.
Initially, some viewers found it somewhat amusing, but when they saw Duan Ming writing in his notebook, their laughter ceased. Even through the screen, they could almost feel that icy chill.
A coldness that made their hair stand on end, one that stirred a deep-seated fear in their hearts and made every cell in their body scream to run away.
The person on the bed seemed to sense it too, shrinking further under the blanket and curling up tightly. Their sleep was restless and uneasy.
But Duan Ming, engrossed in writing, seemed completely unaware, continuing to focus intently on his notebook.
Writing wasn’t hard, but perfectly imitating someone else’s handwriting was a real challenge. After writing just a few characters, Duan Ming tore out the page and started over.
Still, he wasn’t satisfied with the result.
The boy’s handwriting was simply too beautiful—smooth and flowing like a work of art, radiating aesthetic charm at every stroke. Mimicking it was incredibly difficult.
Duan Ming wrote and tore, tore and wrote, repeating the process until nearly dawn. Only then did the writing barely achieve the level of being indistinguishable from the original.
Even the owner of the handwriting might struggle to spot any differences.
However, by that point, the notebook had become noticeably thinner, and the ground around him was littered with over a dozen discarded pages.
Expressionless, Duan Ming crumpled the wasted pages into a ball and stuffed them into his pocket.
Just as he was about to put the notebook back, his hand froze again. After a moment of hesitation, he opened the notebook once more. Using his memory, he rewrote the disparaging remarks the boy had written about the others, but this time, he exaggerated them further.
He made the comments even more offensive—so much so that just reading them would ignite a surge of anger.
When Duan Ming finished writing his notes, the sky was already faintly lit with the light of dawn. Only then did he quietly leave the basement without a sound.
***
Xu He and the others usually didn’t have the habit of eating breakfast, but this time they got up early and even brought back a few portions of breakfast from outside the construction site.
Because of what had happened with Xu He previously, combined with the newly established rules, no one went to the basement alone this time; they all went together.
By the time they arrived, Ruan Qing was already awake.
Ruan Qing was sitting on the edge of the bed, intently reading a notebook. As he read, his brows furrowed, as if there were parts he didn’t quite understand.
When he heard the noise, he instinctively looked toward the door. His beautiful eyes were filled with unfamiliarity and confusion.
It was clear that he had lost his memory again.
Xu He wasn’t surprised at all; otherwise, he wouldn’t have torn pages out of the notebook while the boy was sleeping the previous night.
Their last encounter hadn’t gone well, so this time Xu He was determined to leave a mark on the boy’s heart.
A good mark.
Xu He slowly walked to the bedside with the breakfast and gently handed it over. “You’re awake? I bought your favorite...”
“Bang—” A loud sound interrupted him, followed by the noise of things falling to the ground.
Just as Xu He extended the breakfast toward Ruan Qing, the boy abruptly swatted it away. Caught off guard, Xu He couldn’t hold onto the breakfast, and it fell to the floor.
The basement was instantly plunged into a dead silence.
Xu He lowered his head to look at the fallen breakfast on the ground, then at the boy whose eyes were full of wariness. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.
Seeing the hostility in the boy’s eyes, Xu He frowned deeply. What was going on? Hadn’t he lost his memory?
No, when the boy first looked at him, his gaze was full of unfamiliarity, proving that he didn’t remember him.
But after looking at the notebook again, the boy's expression turned to one of disgust.
So the problem must lie with that notebook.
But didn’t he tear out the page about himself last night?
Not only did Xu He fail to react, but even Zhou Jinchen and Yan Lulin were momentarily taken aback.
After all, the young boy had always been obedient. Even when taking medicine he despised, he had never acted out in such an unruly manner.
A rare hint of amusement and schadenfreude appeared in Zhou Jinchen’s eyes, and even Yan Lulin raised an eyebrow.
Only Duan Ming, as usual, stood off to the side with a look of indifference, as if none of it had anything to do with him.
The live stream viewers burst into laughter.
[I’m dying of laughter. Kid, you haven’t figured it out yet, have you? Someone stayed up all night working hard just to make sure you didn’t stand a chance. He even wrote nearly a thousand words trash-talking you. His writing skills and narrative ability are so good, even a language teacher would have to give full marks.]
[I can’t stop laughing, folks. And look at these two clowns on the side laughing at someone else. Let’s see if you two can keep laughing in a bit.]
[Other horror live streams feature bosses slaughtering everyone while players struggle to survive. But this live stream? I’m watching it like it’s a romantic drama in a love-rival variety show. Just… it’s a bit too tame. I was hoping for something more intense.]
[Romantic drama variety show? Wait, haven’t you seen this instance before? Let me tell you a secret. There are forum posts with recordings from previous players about this instance. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention—this instance currently has a 0% clearance rate.]
Amid the barrage of schadenfreude-filled and teasing comments, this one comment seemed out of place, immediately attracting the attention of other viewers in the live stream.
The <Haunted Building> instance sounded spooky from the name alone. However, so far, apart from the unknown terrifying entity in the basement, no other dangers had appeared.
And even that horrifying entity had never killed anyone. It only came out to steal kisses from the streamer after they fell asleep, and every time, it was interrupted. There wasn’t the slightest hint of where the fear factor came from.
Nor was there any indication that the clearance rate should be zero.
If it weren’t categorized under the horror live stream section, new viewers probably wouldn’t even realize it was supposed to be a horror live stream.
With curiosity piqued, the live stream viewers headed to the forums to search for information and videos about the <Haunted Building> instance.
The forums for viewers and players were completely separate. Viewers could freely record live streams, upload their recordings, and watch others’ recordings without restriction.
<Haunted Building> wasn’t a newly introduced instance, so there were many recorded live stream videos about it on the forums. However, the durations of these recordings were all incredibly short—so short they seemed more like highlight reels of key moments.
The audience, filled with curiosity, clicked on the video, only to realize that the reason it was so short wasn’t due to a highlight reel of thrilling edits—it was because the streamer simply didn’t live long enough.
There were already numerous videos about this instance, and most players had died within the first three days. Only one player had managed to survive until the fifth day, but they too had met a tragic end in the instance.
This was because the instance was haunted. Not by just one ghost, but by multiple, each of them possessing terrifying power on par with mid-level instance bosses. If you were unlucky enough to encounter one, death was almost guaranteed.
The instance’s clearance rate? Zero.
This was a death trap—an instance where no one survived.
But… weren’t these live-streamed recordings a little strange?
The story in the recorded streams always started with a group entering the building, only to meet their end one after another in the instance. From beginning to end, there was no mention of any kidnapping.
Nor was there any mention of workers or a basement.
The audience in the live-stream chat was utterly baffled.
[Could the instance have the same name? I don’t see any similarities—it feels like two completely different instances.]
[No, it’s the same instance. Look carefully at the structure diagram of the complex. It’s identical to the one the streamer is in, except that the streamer’s version is still under construction. And if you slow down and zoom in on the recording, you’ll notice that one of the ghost bosses looks exactly like the man who threatened the streamer to eat earlier!]
[W-what’s going on? Is it like the streamer somehow entered the past? Can the same instance let someone access an earlier point in time? I’ve never heard of that happening!]
Wow, the plot is plotting! That's why there was no player mentioned all this time. Thank you for the chapter!!
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