What exactly is this game?
Standing by the bedroom door, Wen Shichun took a deep breath.
He had encountered plenty of people who tried to spook others with cheap tricks. Thinking calmly, the noises from the iron gate outside and the extra footsteps in the stairwell could very well have been man-made—after all, they all knew the killer was nearby.
He tried to reassure himself.
But…
The fine strands of white hair at his temples drooped slightly.
Logically speaking, the very existence of this place defied all scientific explanation.
And the system hadn’t answered him earlier.
Was it because he’d touched on a crucial point, so it couldn’t disclose anything?
That must be it.
Finally, the young man by the door let out a long sigh.
He had a reasonable suspicion that this game’s dungeons were haunted by some… unclean things.
Just the thought of it was enough to make his skin crawl!
The system, silent for a while now, observed this coldly beautiful young man who wore a perfectly composed mask while secretly terrified. An indescribable emotion welled up inside it: […]
The system hadn’t even realized its own thoughts were racing:
Should it warn him or not…?
But how could someone be this afraid of ghosts?
Wasn’t he supposed to be a trained agent from the outside world?
…Oh, right. He was trained—the system glanced at the calm facade on that pretty face.
The sheer contrast left the system momentarily at a loss.
And besides…
Just now, when it had sensed the host’s fear levels spike…
Another one of the host’s stats had surged right alongside it.
For that single second, the system detected the host’s aggression and fear levels skyrocketing in tandem, both hitting their limits.
If it had a physical form right now, its expression would likely be quite complicated.
As for its host—he had already walked over to the computer in the room.
The desktop computer sat on a solid wood desk against the wall, facing the bed. The double bed in the bedroom was positioned in the center-right of the room, just past the entrance. An old-fashioned wooden chair stood beside it. Closer to the door on the right was a bathroom. Though the furnishings in the bedroom were somewhat dated, it seemed fully equipped.
The atmosphere was slightly oppressive.
But it was more than enough to house a living person.
Wen Shichun walked toward the computer desk.
The bedroom floor was covered with a thick carpet, muffling his footsteps.
With every step he took, his feet sank about a centimeter into the carpet, leaving deep imprints behind. The indentations slowly rose back into place after he lifted his foot.
When he finally stopped in front of the computer, his slender fingers pressed the power button.
While waiting for it to boot up, Wen Shichun turned his gaze toward the window.
The bedroom window stretched about three meters high, its curtains left open. The faint light from inside barely illuminated the darkness outside, where a layer of hazy white mist lingered.
Bright specks the size of raindrops flickered in the night.
Was it snowing?
A few seconds later, he looked away, his attention returning to the now-activated computer screen.
The homepage loaded without requiring a password.
The username read: LZ.
LZ.
Lin Zhe?
"..."
What an obvious clue.
Too bad there wasn’t enough information to go on.
Why had Lin Zhe come to this secluded mountaintop mansion?
If the computer’s username really referred to him… was this his home?
The mansion looked old and worn.
But whether it was the furniture or the decorations inside, everything was clearly expensive.
Wen Shichun leaned forward slightly, his gaze settling on the computer screen and keyboard.
His index finger lightly brushed the corner of the keyboard.
A fine layer of dust came away on his fingertip.
There were also fingerprints left by someone else who had used the keyboard not long ago—likely belonging to He Yi, the player staying in the room next to his.
That person had probably already checked this computer.
And most likely found nothing.
Wen Shichun looked at the clean desktop.
There were very few icons on the screen—just a search engine and a messaging app.
He skimmed through the documents and the recycle bin.
As expected, there was nothing useful.
The killer had already wiped everything clean.
His eyes finally landed on the top-right corner of the screen.
This computer wasn’t connected to any ethernet cable.
When he clicked on the Wi-Fi icon, the pop-up box showed no available networks.
Nothing nearby.
The blank signal box looked like a pale, lifeless face.
After giving up on finding clues from the computer for now, he straightened up, his thoughtful gaze shifting toward the bathroom by the door.
Before checking the bathroom, the white-haired beauty meticulously combed through the bedroom, even crouching down with an expressionless face to peer under the intricately carved wooden bed—just in case there was a body hanging beneath it, waiting to meet him face-to-face.
Luckily, there was nothing under the bed.
But he did find something else.
The space under the bed wasn’t particularly narrow. Wen Shichun lay flat on the carpet as he slid inside, holding up the warm yellow desk lamp he’d taken from the nightstand.
He aimed the light at the wooden bed’s underside, his other hand lightly brushing over the scratches etched into the wood.
These were marks left by human fingers.
Some were so deep they had drawn blood.
But the marks looked old, as if made long ago.
Wen Shichun’s gaze shifted.
Wait—
He pushed the light deeper, his upper body now halfway beneath the bed.
As the light reached further in, more scratches came into view.
And these weren’t from the same person.
His heartbeat quickened as he moved the light across more of the surface.
Old and new scratches overlapped.
Wen Shichun’s breath caught.
Just how many people had hidden under this bed?
Were these marks left in struggle?
Why had they hidden here?
When they hid here, were they—
Just like he was now?
His pupils contracted. A sudden sense of oppression made the space feel suffocatingly small.
As if countless others were lying beside him.
And right now.
They were all turning their heads to look at him.
With a swift motion, he slid out from under the bed and pushed himself up, scrambling to stand.
But then—
His gaze inadvertently fell to his side, and in his heightened state of alertness, he noticed the carpet fibers slowly springing back into place.
As if, not long before, someone had been standing there.
Right beside him.
Wen Shichun abruptly stood up and strode toward the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on the carpet all the way to the door.
But it seemed—
Everything was normal.
There were no footprints indented into the carpet along the way.
As if he had just imagined it.
A few seconds later, his delicate brows furrowed.
Had staring at the light under the bed for too long—made him see things?
That must be it.
Taking a deep breath, Wen Shichun reassured himself.
There shouldn’t be anything unclean in this bedroom right now.
The system, which had been observing its host’s every move: […]
Then, Wen Shichun summoned his interface to check the in-game time before glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall above the computer desk.
The clock’s hands pointed to the exact same time displayed on his panel.
The clock was working fine.
Just then, noise came from the hallway—it was almost time for the agreed-upon twenty minutes.
A few players had already finished inspecting their rooms.
Wen Shichun used the last two minutes to quickly check the bathroom.
Inside was a bathtub and a shower.
The only odd thing was that in the middle of the not-very-spacious bathroom stood two mirrors facing each other, each with a vanity table in front.
Aside from being unsettling to look at, there didn’t seem to be any other issues.
Hot water was also available.
As he stepped out of the bathroom, he casually pulled the door shut behind him—just missing the moment when a patch of fog slowly formed at the center of one of the two mirrors he had examined earlier.
***
In the hallway.
The players, having finished inspecting their respective rooms, regrouped.
"Find anything?" Xun Yi asked. The rooms on their side faced the barren wasteland outside. If not for the night, they should have been able to see the distant treeline from the windows. But now, not only was it snowing, a thick fog had rolled in, reducing visibility to zero. Moreover, the first floor of this mansion was unusually high, placing the second-floor windows about ten meters above the ground.
"Pretty obvious, isn’t it?" He Yi chuckled, arms crossed as his gaze swept over the group in the hallway. "We’ve got seven days. No need to rush."
Once the killer started hunting players, they’d inevitably cross paths. With a few tools at their disposal, catching them shouldn’t be too hard.
He Yi’s eyes landed on the beautiful young man.
Such perfect bait shouldn’t go to waste.
His intentions were clear, and he suspected the other players might be thinking the same. The clearance condition only required them to catch the killer. Though the completion rate of the main quest would affect their final rewards and points, he had no interest in lingering too long in a temporary instance just for a higher rating.
Ideally, they’d use this E-rank to lure out the killer tonight.
He Yi’s plan was flawless—at least in his own mind. The target of his scheming, Wen Shichun, could only sigh inwardly.
A cool glance flicked in He Yi’s direction.
This guy’s arrogance was off the charts.
Judging from the other players’ reactions earlier, the gap between a B-rank and an E-rank was undoubtedly vast. But this man’s overconfidence didn’t stem solely from their level difference.
His attitude toward the other B-rank players wasn’t exactly respectful either.
Such extreme arrogance usually came from one of two things: either he possessed overwhelming strength…
Or he was just a psychopath.
And given that the first type wasn’t exactly mentally stable either…
By the time Wen Shichun withdrew his gaze, he had already mentally marked He Yi’s face with a bright red X.
"True, no need to rush." Yue Cheng picked up where He Yi left off. Standing opposite Wen Shichun, his eyes remained fixed on the white-haired beauty across from him. His voice was sincere. "I’d like to spend a few more days with Brother."
"Are you insane?" Chang Zhao couldn't hold back anymore after hearing Yue Cheng's words. "Can't you speak normally?"
In the hallway, Yue Cheng slowly turned his head to look at Chang Zhao on the other side. "Why are you overreacting so much?"
Chang Zhao was momentarily stunned by the retort. His right hand subconsciously scratched his head, then his gaze cautiously flickered toward Wen Shichun's position, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.
Wen Shichun: "..."
System: "..."
For the first time, both man and system shared the exact same thought—complete speechlessness.
Wen Shichun simply assumed this was due to the influence of that strange skill. But was it supposed to activate automatically?
He hadn’t chosen to use it… had he?
Meanwhile, the equally dumbfounded system knew full well that, in theory, the level gap between players should drastically affect skill effectiveness. In other words, a low-tier player’s skill should have almost no substantial impact on a high-tier player.
A skill like its host’s fell under the category of mental interference—affecting another’s judgment—and the effect should be negligible when there was a significant level difference.
But its host…
Somehow managed to do it anyway.
And this was without even selecting a target for direct attack. Just a passive influence had already made a B-rank player develop a crush.
The system fell silent for a solid three seconds.
Somewhere in the void, it even rolled its nonexistent eyes.
…Should it remind its host that if he actually chose a target to use the skill on, the effect would be three times stronger than this passive state?
