'Xiao Shi, are you scared?'
In the dim light, Wen Shichun stared at the latest message in the chatbox.
Bathed in the faint blue glow of the monitor, his expression was icy.
His breathing was steady—slower, even, than usual.
His heartbeat grew sluggish, faint.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
A second later, his slender fingers, resting near the keyboard, twitched.
Wen Shichun replied:
'Who are you?'
After sending the message, his gaze shifted to the bedroom door.
Darkness loomed there.
No light seeped through the crack beneath it.
The hallway outside had gone dark too.
As he pulled his eyes away, they briefly flicked toward the half-open bathroom door—
Before settling again on the only source of light in the room.
The chatbox remained still for a long time.
The person on the other end seemed to have no answer—or perhaps was just studying Wen Shichun anew through the screen.
Only when it noticed the man moving across the room did another message appear:
'Does it matter?'
In truth, the moment Wen Shichun walked to the bedside and picked up the lamp from the nightstand, someone’s head began to throb with a phantom ache.
Clutching the lamp in his right hand, Wen Shichun returned to the computer. Seeing the useless reply, he raised his left hand and typed:
'So you’re the one who lured Lin Zhe here?'
After sending the message,
Wen Shichun silently called out to his system—the one that hadn’t made a single sound this entire time.
As expected, there was no response.
When he noticed the lights in the hallway outside were also off, he began to suspect that that thing had dragged him into the anomalous space again.
This time, there were no disappearing teammates to confirm it, but the system’s silence only reinforced his suspicion.
His physical body was likely still asleep, and his novice system hadn’t even noticed yet.
Wen Shichun glanced back at the empty bed.
Well, last time, smashing that thing had restored the space to normal.
If it was back, then he’d just have to smash it again.
***
The person on the other end seemed caught off guard by his question.
Once again, there was a long stretch of silence.
In the darkness beyond Wen Shichun’s perception, unbeknownst to him, the other was studying him with unrestrained intensity.
The faint glow from the monitor cast a soft light over his flawless profile, making the gaze fixed upon him in the shadows burn even hotter.
He watched him, intrigued.
Even in this situation, this beautiful, inscrutable man still had the presence of mind to fish for useful information.
It was… fascinating.
Just earlier, he’d been clutching the bedsheets tightly in his sleep— yet now, he stood there, unnervingly calm and composed.
The novelty of it all unexpectedly disrupted what should have been a straightforward process.
***
‘Xiao Shi, how could you think I tricked him into coming?’
Apparently having figured out how to respond, messages began flashing rapidly in the chatbox.
‘He came to me willingly.’
Wen Shichun looked at the two consecutive messages, his expression unreadable, but his fingers kept typing.
‘A place this remote… You contacted him through this chat app, didn’t you?’
Then lured him here.
Wen Shichun paused, considering for a moment, and was almost certain now—this thing on the other end was probably a romance scammer too.
The "lover" mentioned in the dungeon… must be this thing.
Unexpectedly, the other party admitted it in the very next message.
‘Xiao Shi, someone like me… what else can I do but rely on chat apps to talk to you?’
……
Wen Shichun’s face remained blank.
Reading this latest message…
His beautiful features stiffened further.
This ghost was really being sarcastic.
And now it had the audacity to call itself a person.
He really wanted to smash its skull in again.
His grip tightened around the lamp’s metal base.
Beep— Beep— Beep—
Beep— Beep— Beep—
Two more new messages arrived in quick succession.
‘Xiao Shi, Lin Zhe is already dead.’
‘Now it’s your turn to keep me company.’
Wen Shichun stared at the screen, his face betraying nothing.
He replied, his tone almost eerily calm.
‘Where are you.’
After typing those final words, he withdrew his left hand. His gaze lingered on the stark white chat box—until a reply appeared.
‘Behind you.’
As that familiar, oppressive presence drew near, Wen Shichun raised the desk lamp in his hand.
The moment he turned, an invisible hand clamped around his wrist.
This time, the other party had clearly come prepared.
Wen Shichun drove his knee forward in a vicious strike.
He hit his mark—unsurprisingly—but what was surprising was the muffled grunt that followed.
Strange. This invisible thing could apparently be touched.
Not quite the ghost he’d imagined.
But it didn’t matter. With his wrist still restrained, Wen Shichun adjusted his stance after the successful hit and lashed out again, this time with even more force.
The grip on his wrist loosened as the creature retreated. Yet in that moment, some unseen method sapped the strength from Wen Shichun’s right arm—and the weapon in his hand was effortlessly plucked away.
Bathed in the computer screen’s faint glow, the now-floating desk lamp looked almost absurd, blatantly revealing its holder’s position.
The thing kept its distance, hovering just beyond the reach of Wen Shichun’s kicks.
But with the lamp as a glaring beacon, the corner of Wen Shichun’s lips curled—a rare, icy smile, its warmth matching the frost in his blue eyes.
A beautiful face, smiling. Coldly.
The lamp’s holder seemed to freeze, mesmerized, even pausing mid-motion.
And in that split second—
Wen Shichun spun, snatched up the bulky desktop computer from the old wooden desk, and—
—?!
The movement was seamless, lightning-fast. Before the lamp could even twitch, the computer tower was already hurtling toward the creature’s location with brutal force.
Bang.
***
The alternate space vanished.
Under the warm orange glow of the bedroom lights, Wen Shichun sat up in bed, the familiar voice of the system ringing in his ears.
[I couldn’t wake you.]
[Sorry.]
The system’s apology was stiff, mechanical.
And just a little unnaturally… worried.
Wen Shichun sat there, taking slow, measured breaths, his nerves still taut. His gaze drifted downward—the blanket had fallen onto the carpet, exactly where it had been in the alternate space. He stared at it for a few seconds before lifting his eyes forward. The desktop computer’s tower sat undisturbed in its usual spot, the black monitor exactly as he’d left it before sleep.
His eyes flicked upward. The clock above the display had its hands pointing at 5, pale dawn light creeping in through the gaps in the curtains beside it.
Several minutes later, after confirming there were no other living beings in the room, he finally exhaled slowly, shifting back to lean against the headboard. Only then did he summon the game panel.
A glance at the dungeon’s progress made him pause.
Overnight, the completion rate had jumped to 75%. The number caught him off guard.
Before that phone call earlier, progress had been at 15%. Then, after spotting the humanoid shape behind the curtains in the hall and mentioning to the others that the entity might have a physical form—one that could be touched—the bar had surged to 40%.
After that, even encounters with players turning into ghosts hadn’t moved the needle.
It made sense—main quest progression was tied solely to uncovering the truth behind the case.
When he’d gone to sleep, it was still 40%.
Wen Shichun tapped the panel lightly.
So this 35% increase… was it because of those messages the entity sent him in the alternate space just now?
His expression turned icy as he sifted through the memories.
The ghost had contacted its victim through the chat software on the computer.
It claimed that Lin Zhe had come to it willingly.
Though the progress bar had increased—meaning the ghost probably wasn’t lying—Wen Shichun remained skeptical.
Maybe Lin Zhe had come willingly.
But only after this thing had first lured him in online.
The deception was despicable. Smashing it to pieces wouldn’t be enough.
As he lifted his gaze, Wen Shichun remembered his novice system. Earlier, when he first woke up, his mind had been too tense to respond. Now, he finally acknowledged it softly: [It’s fine. Not your fault.]
They were both new at this. Mutual understanding was key.
The newly labeled "novice" system hesitated, as if holding back words.
A few seconds later, it finally spoke: [The team menu allows you to send private messages to other players in the same dungeon.]
[You hadn’t enabled message reception earlier. I detected someone trying to send you a private message, but it failed because the function was disabled.]
…
There was a function like that?
Wen Shichun switched to the team menu.
He quickly figured out how it worked.
The moment he activated it, messages flooded in.
A rapid series of notification chimes erupted—
Startling him!
The system: [...]
It had forgotten to remind the host to mute the notifications.
Wen Shichun clicked through each message with a blank expression.
(22:37) Chang Zhao: Xiao E, you doing okay over there?
(23:08) Chang Zhao: Asleep?
(03:48) Yue Cheng: Brother, you there?
(04:04) Yue Cheng: Brother, wake up!
(04:14) Yue Cheng: Brother wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up!
(04:14) Yue Cheng: Brother wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up!
…
After that, Yue Cheng’s messages were practically floods of the same word—wake up—filling the entire screen.
The guy’s typing speed was like an octopus on caffeine, seemingly able to hammer out hundreds of wake ups per second.
Wen Shichun’s gaze lingered on the most recent message.
(05:00) Yue Cheng: Brother, are you awake now? (sad cat face)
Wen Shichun: “…”
The man in bed cleared his throat and remarked flatly, “System, your game’s interactive chat feature is pretty well done.”
It even supports stickers.
System: [Yes.]
If it had a physical form right now, its expression would undoubtedly be one of disdain.
Wen Shichun stared at the endless stream of messages from Yue Cheng.
Four o’clock—the exact time he’d woken up in the alternate space.
Yue Cheng had sent these messages right around that time, and the relentless spam afterward made his intention even clearer.
It looked like he was trying to wake him up.
And he very likely knew Wen Shichun had entered the alternate space.
Wen Shichun tapped lightly on Yue Cheng’s chat window.
Just what is this guy trying to do?
