***
Bonus chapter! Thank you to Somebody for the donation! ^^
***
Ruan Qing froze for only a second before steadying himself. He had already confirmed Su Zhen's identity as a boss—and now this "freshman representative" had clearly replaced Su Zhen, becoming the new dungeon boss.
Given their roles alone, peaceful coexistence between these two was impossible.
This was an opportunity—a perfect chance to test their strength. If 'Su Zhen' proved powerful enough, perhaps he wouldn’t need to face the real Su Zhen at all.
Lowering his lashes to hide his thoughts, Ruan Qing trembled and ducked behind 'Su Zhen,' his delicate face etched with unease as he feigned terror toward the newly arrived man.
The man’s expression darkened completely. He knew Ruan Qing feared him—but the sight of him clinging to another man, relying on him, sent waves of unchecked violence and murderous intent roiling through his chest.
He belonged to him. Anyone who dared lay a finger on him deserved death.
The Nightmare World was a lawless realm, a hunter’s paradise where restraint meant nothing.
The two men faced each other across the distance, the air thick with danger. In the next instant, they clashed without hesitation.
This was no minor skirmish. Their battle neared cataclysmic levels, the very space around them fracturing and reforming under the force of their blows. Entire sections of the environment dissolved into nothingness—a horrifying display that chilled the soul.
Though untouched by their attacks, Ruan Qing paled under the crushing weight of their power. His gaze flickered to the voids torn open near him, his heart sinking as a cold dread seeped into his bones.
These were just avatars. Yet their strength already defied reason. And still, "He" had secrets—things "He" felt compelled to hide from him.
Whatever was being concealed had to be dire. Something unbearable.
Perhaps a matter of life and death.
He had no proof, but the answer seemed obvious. The only things that could break "Him" were Ruan Qing choosing another… or Ruan Qing ceasing to exist.
He would never willingly turn to someone else. And even if he did, "He" would simply slaughter the interloper and reclaim him—no need for secrecy.
That left only one possibility.
Death.
Ruan Qing’s fingers clenched, knuckles whitening under the strain. A lost, fragile look crossed his nearly translucent face, his entire frame radiating vulnerability.
Most people, knowing the answer might be terrifying, would choose to retreat—content to maintain the status quo.
But Ruan Qing’s moment of vulnerability lasted only a second. Soon, his gaze hardened with resolve.
Every person deserves their own life, and the right to choose how to live it.
Even if the outcome was death, he wanted it to be his choice.
In the end, 'Su Zhen' was merely a manifested existence—no match for the real threat.
The man hadn’t just replaced Su Zhen as the dungeon’s boss; he’d been steadily stealing the dungeon’s power, reclaiming fragments of "His" strength, until he became an invincible entity within this world.
And after all… he was the System’s avatar.
Perhaps because the two deliberately avoided involving him, Ruan Qing remained untouched by their clash—no stray energy, no spatial rifts tearing at his flesh.
With one last deep look at the battling figures, he took several steps back—and vanished.
Swallowed by another space.
***
Each person’s Nightmare World was supposed to be isolated, separated by barriers… yet sometimes, for reasons unknown, they merged.
And being displaced by spatial fractures usually meant being thrown into someone else’s nightmare.
The scene around Ruan Qing shifted the instant he crossed over. Before he could even process his surroundings, a sound crackled behind him—the roar of flames, a wave of searing heat.
He whirled around—and froze.
Pupils contracting, every hair standing on end.
Sheer bad luck: he’d landed right in the middle of an explosion.
The train carriage before him was seconds from detonating. Without thinking, he summoned his power. A warm white glow enveloped him as he leaped back—reappearing ten meters away.
BOOM.
The blast tore through the night, flames painting the darkness orange.
The force knocked him off balance. He hadn’t controlled the energy properly—tumbling from the carriage’s wreckage and hitting the ground hard.
At least the train wasn’t moving. The fall left him bruised, but unharmed.
Heart pounding, Ruan Qing sat in the dirt, clutching his chest as he struggled to steady his breathing.
One second later, and he’d have been vaporized.
Coincidence… or sabotage?
Ruan Qing didn't sense the same murderous intent from before, making it hard to tell whether this was coincidence or not—and he had no time to dwell on it anyway.
The explosion seemed to have attracted something terrifying.
From the darkness came a rustling, skittering sound that grew louder by the second, crawling under the skin like nails on bone.
Insects. Countless insects.
They swarmed in a black tide, devouring everything in their path—leaving not even a scrap of flesh behind.
Ruan Qing's heart lurched the moment he saw them. He scrambled to his feet and bolted in the opposite direction.
The insects weren't much slower than a running human. Ruan Qing had to push his energy into his legs to outpace them—but this wasn't sustainable. Once his strength gave out, he'd be torn apart without even a corpse left to bury.
He could forcibly alter this nightmare world through self-hypnosis, but he chose not to.
If this really was premeditated murder, then whoever was behind it would strike again. He needed to draw them out.
As he ran, Ruan Qing scanned his surroundings. They were on abandoned train tracks—the explosion had come from a derelict locomotive, and not far ahead, another train was slowly pulling away.
It had just started moving, still sluggish in its acceleration.
He had to catch it.
Ruan Qing pushed harder, sprinting toward the train with everything he had.
Another student was racing for the train too—a normal boy, likely dragged into this space by accident. Worse, he'd injured his leg in the explosion, his pace badly hobbled.
At that speed, he'd never make it.
Ruan Qing overtook him easily. A glance confirmed the boy wasn't one of the perpetrators from the opening ceremony.
Without breaking stride, Ruan Qing thrust out his hand. A rusted steel rod flew into his grip, and he shoved it toward the struggling student.
"Grab on."
The boy, already drowning in despair, seized the rod like a lifeline.
The moment his fingers closed around it, Ruan Qing yanked hard—using his power to haul the boy forward.
Now just steps from the train, Ruan Qing clamped onto the boy's arm and hurled him onto the departing carriage.
Just as he was about to climb onto the train, it suddenly accelerated, lurching forward with a burst of speed.
Ruan Qing's eyes widened. He quickly thrust the steel rebar toward the male student—no words needed. The other boy frantically reached for it, desperate to pull Ruan Qing aboard.
But the train was moving too fast. His fingertips barely grazed the metal before it slipped away, the gap between them widening with every second.
And behind them, the swarm of insects was closing in.
The male student collapsed onto the train floor in despair, watching helplessly as the writhing black tide surged toward them.
Ruan Qing, however, wasn't one for despair. He conserved his strength when possible, but that didn't mean he couldn't use it.
The moment the rebar slipped from the boy's grasp, Ruan Qing summoned his power and leaped—catching the edge of the train with one fluid motion. A sharp twist of his body, and he landed cleanly on the platform.
As the train sped into the darkness, Ruan Qing stood at the rear, watching the insects fade into the distance. The wind whipped through his disheveled hair, his expression almost lazily indifferent.
Filth streaked his clothes and face, yet in the flickering glow of distant explosions, he looked pristine—untouchable. Like a fallen deity, too radiant for this wretched world.
That kind of purity invited corruption. It made people want to drag him down, to see him stained.
[AHHHHH! My wife is both gorgeous and badass—I finally understand simps and love-struck idiots now! Wuwuwu I'll be your loyal dog!]
[That jump just ended me. Straight through the heart. Wife, look at me!]
[Can't even blame the dungeon boss for being down bad. Who wouldn't lose their mind over this? Even a saint would go feral.]
Nearby, the rescued student trembled, caught between relief and lingering terror. His voice shook with gratitude.
"Th-thank you. You saved me."
"Just happened to be convenient." Ruan Qing offered a gentle smile before turning toward the next carriage. The boy limped after him.
The train wasn't driverless. Ruan Qing had expected others aboard—but not this many.
Dozens of passengers packed the cars, nearly all of them students from the same ill-fated school.
Ruan Qing's entry into the train car caused little disturbance. Most students remained slumped in their seats, still paralyzed by the terror of their near-death experience, not even lifting their heads. Only a few glanced his way before looking away.
He took a seat near the edge, forcing the male student he'd saved to sit in the row ahead of him.
The train raced smoothly along the tracks, the apparent safety lulling many into fragile calm. The atmosphere in the carriage eased slightly—until a sudden, jarring clang reverberated through the cabin.
Like a slammed brake, the train lurched to a violent halt.
Something was wrong.
Pandemonium erupted. A student shot to their feet. "What happened?! Why did we stop?!"
"We're dead—we're all dead tonight—"
Another broke down entirely, sobbing. "I don't want to die... I'm too young... I haven't even—"
The male student Ruan Qing had saved turned to him, lips trembling. "What... what do we do now?"
Ruan Qing was already moving. "Check the engine car."
Fleeing on foot would be suicide—those insects were faster. Their only hope was restarting the train.
Others caught on, stampeding toward the front.
The train was short, barely a few cars long. They reached the engine in moments—and froze.
The windshield was shattered. Insects swarmed through the gap, crawling over the half-eaten corpse of the student who'd been operating the controls.
Flesh hung in tattered strips from bone. Glittering carapaces writhed amidst pulped viscera. Someone retched.
A skittering pause—then the swarm surged.
Whether drawn by sound or scent, it didn't matter. The creatures arrowed toward living prey.
Screams tore through the car as students scrambled back, a white-faced stampede of limbs and terror.
