Yue Cheng took the lead, holding a lighting device as he stepped into the room.
When Wen Shichun entered, he glanced around under the dim illumination from ahead. Spotting a switch on the right wall, he casually flicked it.
Click.
The lights came on.
A cold white glow poured down from above. Yue Cheng lifted his head, eyeing the ceiling-mounted panel lights, then looked down at the lighting device in his hand. Without hesitation, he put it away—unfazed, despite never being one to bother with lights.
The other players filed in behind them.
The room looked more like a study.
On the desk directly opposite sat a desktop computer, identical to the one in Wen Shichun’s room.
He Yi was the last to enter. By the time he stepped inside, Yue Cheng had already moved behind the desk and pulled open the heavy curtains.
Bright white light spilled into the room.
The group in the center surveyed their surroundings—especially Chang Zhao, who seemed unusually cautious.
The room’s decor was simple, a far cry from the elegant, classical study on the third floor. It almost seemed designed solely to house that single computer.
Yue Cheng stood motionless in front of the monitor, then looked up at Wen Shichun.
“Brother, come here,” he said, pointing at the screen.
Wen Shichun walked over, his gaze sweeping across the monitor and keyboard.
Spotless.
Even the desk in front of him was immaculate.
His right hand brushed the mouse, and the black screen instantly lit up.
Dozens of surveillance feeds tiled across the display, showing every corner and room of the mansion—including the pitch-black chambers on the third floor, now clearly visible under night-vision cameras. The players’ lit bedrooms were even more exposed.
Wen Shichun turned away and strode to the window. He glanced down.
No footholds outside.
"What's wrong?" Xun Yi asked.
Yue Cheng tilted his chin up, signaling for them to come see for themselves.
Aside from He Yi, who had already taken a seat on the only long sofa in the room, the others gathered behind the computer desk.
When they saw the surveillance footage on the screen, everyone's expressions changed. Shen Jing's face turned deathly pale, as if recalling some horrifying memory, and her body trembled involuntarily.
"Is the killer a psycho? They were watching us???" Chang Zhao reacted loudly.
"Did any of you hear a door open last night?" Wen Shichun turned and asked.
The hallway carpet could muffle the killer's footsteps, but the brass lock outside this room would inevitably make noise when opened or closed.
Every other room had gathered dust—only this one was kept unnaturally clean. It seemed that thing wasn’t just controlling, but also had severe obsessive cleanliness.
"Not really," Chang Zhao replied.
His room was on the right side of the staircase, same as Xun Yi and Shen Jing.
If Yue Cheng, who stayed next to this room, and He Yi, who was across from it, hadn’t heard anything, then those on their side had even less chance of noticing.
Wen Shichun didn’t press further. When he had asked, Yue Cheng had already shaken his head, and He Yi was even less reliable.
Yet these two had taken the rooms closest to the killer. Who knew what they’d been thinking when they chose them?
This room had clearly been used often. By the time Wen Shichun returned to the desk, Xun Yi and Chang Zhao had stepped aside to make space. Wen Shichun barely registered the gesture. After minimizing the surveillance window, he spotted the chat software on the desktop—currently showing as online.
"This computer actually has internet?" Chang Zhao said. On the sofa, He Yi glanced over.
Wen Shichun’s gaze followed the computer cables under the desk. Remembering the inexplicable Wi-Fi from the alternate space last night, he soon found a wireless device hidden in a corner beneath the desk.
So, things that existed in the alternate space likely had counterparts in the real one—that was why they logically appeared in the other dimension.
When he’d checked his own room’s computer yesterday afternoon, there’d been no detectable networks.
If the two sides were connected, it meant this wireless device had been activated afterward.
Verifying this would be simple: just return to his room and check if that computer had internet now.
Or—
He only needed to glance at the name of the currently active Wi-Fi network.
His cursor hovered over the wireless icon in the top-right corner.
A split second later.
allofyouwilldie
The familiar string of English letters appeared before his eyes.
His ice-blue eyes betrayed no emotion.
...
The killer had indeed returned to this room.
They had likely sat right in front of this computer, sending that message to him in the alternate dimension.
Wen Shichun only looked at it for a second before averting his gaze.
That taunting network name.
No matter how many times he saw it, it only left a sickening feeling.
As he examined these clues, the others around him stood idle, waiting for his next move—as if they had nothing better to do.
Suspicion flickered in Wen Shichun’s mind. He glanced at Xun Yi beside him, catching the man’s gaze before he could look away. Xun Yi held his stare for two seconds, feigning composure, then asked:
“Something wrong?” He adjusted his glasses, trying to divert Wen Shichun’s attention.
This E-rank is too sharp.
Wen Shichun studied Xun Yi for another moment, then turned to Yue Cheng, who had already retreated to the side. Earlier, when Yue Cheng discovered the issue with the computer, he’d called him over instead of checking it himself. None of them had touched any of the potential clues.
What’s their game?
Does touching evidence get you killed?
His cold gaze locked onto the two men.
Yue Cheng panicked under his white-haired brother’s scrutiny. Seeing Wen Shichun’s suspicion, he blurted out: “Brother, don’t worry, nothing will happen!”
Wen Shichun’s stare didn’t waver. “What exactly should I be worried about?”
“What are you guys talking about?” Chang Zhao, standing off to the side, suddenly found himself completely lost.
Shen Jing gave a thoughtful glance at her two teammates—their earlier attempts to avoid the clues hadn’t been subtle, and even she had been briefly puzzled.
Now, her gaze shifted to Wen Shichun, whose hand was still resting on the mouse.
And he had touched this computer earlier—back when Yue Cheng had first called him over.
At this realization, Shen Jing’s expression toward Xun Yi shifted. Was this guy really going along with the other players to set up the E-rank?
"Hahaha." Noticing the tension, He Yi, who was half-sprawled on the sofa, let out a relaxed laugh, thoroughly enjoying his teammates’ apparent unity.
"Shi, step back." Shen Jing said to Wen Shichun, signaling for him to leave the computer alone.
"It’s not what you think—" Xun Yi was at a loss for words. He’d rarely been doubted like this in a dungeon before.
"What the hell are you all talking about?" Chang Zhao looked around at his teammates, sensing the rising tension. After a moment of thought, his eyes widened, and he glared at Xun Yi and Yue Cheng. "What did you do to Xiao E?"
Xun Yi: "..."
Wen Shichun had already straightened up. His gaze settled on Xun Yi—the man’s expression didn’t seem malicious, but like Yue Cheng, he clearly knew something. Something they were hiding.
And it involved him.
"What do you know?" Wen Shichun asked, his eyes fixed on Xun Yi, deliberately ignoring Yue Cheng, who stood slightly farther away.
Yue Cheng, for his part, seemed to realize now wasn’t the time for antics. He stayed quiet, though his eyes remained fixed on Wen Shichun with a pitiful look.
Under the weight of everyone’s suspicion, Xun Yi found Wen Shichun the only reasonable one left. With a silent sigh, he decided there was no point hiding it anymore.
"How do you think Bo Ya died?" he asked.
In dungeons, deaths never happened without reason. Players died because they triggered fatal conditions. Even if external factors influenced the dungeon, it would still follow its rules—though those rules might become harder to predict.
The other possibility? A player was killed by another player.
But this was a District 5 dungeon. Dead teammates turned into dangerous spirits, and there was no competition between players. Bo Ya’s death was almost certainly the first kind.
If so, the only way to prevent more deaths—and more vengeful spirits—was to figure out exactly how Bo Ya had died.
At Xun Yi’s mention of Bo Ya, Shen Jing was the first to frown. Bo Ya had spent most of yesterday with her and Xun Yi. Even during the incident on the third floor, she had been the closest to Bo Ya when they rushed to the study.
She had suspected Bo Ya’s death was linked to the first-floor dining room—after all, He Yi and Yue Cheng had both been there. But speculation wasn’t enough.
Bo Ya had already seemed unwell when they returned to the first floor. In fact, it had been Shen Jing who told her to rest in the dining room.
It was highly possible that Bo Ya had already been in trouble before that—she just hadn’t noticed. Realizing this, Shen Jing turned to Xun Yi. This man knew the reason but hadn’t spoken up. In an instant, her trust in him plummeted to its lowest point.
A trace of helplessness flickered across Xun Yi’s face as he attempted to explain, “I wasn’t a hundred percent sure either.”
“I only suspected Bo Ya died because she was the closest to the study door on the third floor at the time.”
After saying this, Xun Yi looked at Wen Shichun.
“Didn’t you warn Bo Ya that the door’s position had shifted?” Xun Yi said, his gaze briefly drifting to the two teammates behind Wen Shichun. “After that, we deduced the killer had been in that study.”
The group nodded in agreement.
Wen Shichun revisited the memory. He, too, had previously concluded that Bo Ya’s proximity to the door was the most likely reason for her demise. Back in the dining room, half of Bo Ya’s face had been caved in. The injuries could very well have been caused by the door slamming shut with tremendous force—but such a commotion wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the others.
Unless… like him, Bo Ya had entered the alternate dimension and sustained her injuries there—and died?
A flicker of realization passed through Wen Shichun’s eyes.
Could wounds from the alternate dimension carry over into the normal world?
When Xun Yi spoke again, Wen Shichun’s attention snapped back to him. The man was staring straight at him.
“Bo Ya was closest to the door and holding a light source. Shi, by the time you noticed the door’s movement, I refuse to believe Bo Ya hadn’t detected it earlier.”
Xun Yi paused here. Even He Yi, lounging on the sofa, turned an intrigued gaze his way. Then, after a deliberate glance at Shen Jing, Xun Yi continued:
“When Shen Jing, Bo Ya, and I were inspecting the first floor earlier, Bo Ya was extremely meticulous.”
“She was,” Shen Jing affirmed.
“What’s your point?” Chang Zhao frowned.
“What I’m saying is—” Xun Yi sighed. “Bo Ya might’ve been the first to notice the door’s movement. She might’ve even caught a glimpse of the killer.”
“She discovered that clue.”
“So what? The killer murdered her because she found a clue?”
“Yes,” Xun Yi replied.
“I don’t follow.” Shen Jing hesitated, her brow furrowing. Unless she’d misunderstood, Xun Yi was emphasizing the clue, not the killer. “If you’re saying Bo Ya ran into the killer and got killed for it, that makes sense. But how does her death connect to the clue?”
When Shen Jing asked this question, Xun Yi adjusted his glasses again. This time, he spoke: "I’m just speculating, but in this instance, the first person to discover a clue will die... or trigger a death condition, drawing the killer’s attention."
"Are you f*cking kidding me?!" Chang Zhao had the strongest reaction to Xun Yi’s theory. His eyes first darted to Wen Shichun in panic—if that were true, then Xiao E had just opened the killer’s messaging app. Then it hit him: Xiao E had also been the one to turn on the computer screen earlier, revealing the surveillance footage. In an instant, Chang Zhao whipped his furious glare toward Yue Cheng, who had already retreated to the wall. "You fucking told Xiao E to turn on that computer?!"
He lunged toward the other.
"Don’t be reckless."
Xun Yi raised a hand to stop the man, who had crossed the distance in two strides, ready to throw down—only to get yanked up by his own collar moments later.
