Is Everyone Getting into Character This Quickly

That skeletal hand, after carving the words "Ashen Village," withdrew into the cracked yellow earth as if relieved of a heavy burden.

Su Muxue held her breath, her muscles tensing involuntarily as she warily scanned her surroundings.

This incident had already far exceeded her expectations...

Had the forces of the Lord of Ashes intervened in this matter?

Highly likely...

On the surface, it seemed aimed at Yun Huang, but in reality, it was targeting the two of them...

What a terrifying scheme...

Weakening Jiangxia's active forces, laying the groundwork for the next move...

By then, Guardian Jiang would be stretched too thin, standing alone against the tide...

So... for the sake of Jiangxia's safety...

The two of them absolutely could not die here!

The middle-aged man also realized the gravity of the situation.

Silently, he lifted a corner of his briefcase, revealing a stack of talismans: "This is bad..."

Meanwhile, Liu Yuan, being the weakest among them, couldn’t sense the fluctuations of power emanating from the other two.

Coupled with Su Muxue’s youthful appearance and the middle-aged man’s unmistakable "office drone" vibe,

she didn’t even consider the possibility that they might be supernaturals.

Instead, she just thought they were a bit too "immersed in the act."

So, to keep them from breaking character, Liu Yuan lowered her voice and pressed closer to Su Qi: "Brother, this escape room’s scene transition is so cool~"

But how could such a whisper escape Su Muxue’s ears?

Su Muxue: ???

Suddenly, a voice rang out.

Dry, hoarse, like two pieces of rotting wood grinding against each other.

It seemed to rise from the depths of the earth, yet also permeated every corner of the village.

"Welcome to..."

The voice paused, as if weighing its words or adjusting its tone.

Su Muxue and the middle-aged man positioned themselves back-to-back, covering each other: "Uncle... can you pinpoint its location?"

The man didn’t respond, only raising his guard to the highest level.

The voice continued, laced with deliberate solemnity but betraying a faint... discordant sob: "Ashen Village?"

......

Elsewhere.

A struggling web novelist with the pen name "Autumn Heart in Painting" happily typed on his computer screen: "Happy April Fools’, taking the day off..."

Before he could hit send, a skeletal hand tore through space beside him, dragging him violently into the void.

When he opened his eyes again...

A scorched yellow earth...

A shattered village...

And a ghastly white skeletal hand, clutching a skull, hovering in the air.

The skull seemed to be adjusting its long-unused—or rather, nonexistent—vocal cords: "Write."

The poor man, still dazed, instinctively replied, "Write what?"

The skeletal hand pressed the skull right against the author’s face, its hollow eye sockets glaring at him: "Write an escape room script."

"The basic information about this place is already in your head."

Terrified out of his wits, survival instinct took over.

Trembling, he stammered, "Welcome to... Ashen Village?"

After speaking, he stole a glance at the skull, gauging its reaction...

The skull’s tone grew impatient: "If you don’t start making up a story, I’ll start making you scream."

......

The voice spoke again, smoother now but still tinged with that barely concealed sob.

"This place is a forgotten land, long since destroyed."

"Outsiders, you have stepped where you... should not have."

The voice rose slightly, as if finding its rhythm.

Now it carried an air of authority, of control.

"But even ashes retain warmth, and despair holds a sliver of hope..."

"I shall grant you a chance, a chance... to leave this place."

"A trial... to prove your worth."

As the words faded, the entire village seemed to awaken.

From the ruins of collapsed houses came creaking, groaning sounds.

Tilted walls were righted by unseen forces, broken doors and windows slammed shut with dull thuds.

From the cracks in the earth, green tendrils of vitality seeped out, spreading rapidly.

At the village entrance, behind the stone stele engraved with "Ashen Village," a barrier of bone and gray mist rose, sealing off any retreat.

"The rules are simple."

"Navigate this maze, reach the clocktower at the village center."

"Along the way, there will be clues... and minor obstacles."

"Arrive before the second toll of the bell, and you may live."

"Fail..."

The voice stretched out, laced with icy threat: "And you will become ash, joining this village in 'eternal undying.'"

With the final word, the hazy outline of a crumbling tower appeared in the distance, a rusted bell hanging at its peak.

"Dong—"

A deep, resonant chime echoed through the air.

The 'game' had begun.

......

Even Lian Yunhuang frowned, seeing little hope: "This is bad..."

Liu Yuan tilted her head up, observing the three with furrowed brows.

Everyone’s really getting into character, huh?

She decided to play along, feigning fear as she clung tighter to Su Qi: "Brother, this is bad..."

Su Muxue stood still, quickly organizing the information.

The enemy didn’t seem intent on killing them outright but had set up this "game" instead.

Why?

Was it due to some restrictive rule? Or simply to savor their desperate struggle...?

The way that skeletal hand had chiseled away the "Prison of the Condemned" earlier felt too deliberate, like an attempt to hide something.

And that voice, though feigning grandeur, had an odd undertone.

Su Muxue suppressed her chaotic thoughts.

Whatever the enemy’s goal, survival was the priority now...

After a brief analysis, she stepped forward with deliberate caution.

Of their five-member team, only she and her uncle had any real combat ability.

She would take point; he would guard the rear.

The others were useless in a fight.

The yellow earth beneath her feet was soft, like treading on thick ash, emitting faint puff sounds.

The air carried a rotting stench, unpleasant to breathe in.

A mere few dozen meters.

Yet it took her three minutes to cross.

Finally, she saw it—the ancient, gnarled tree standing at the village entrance.

And beneath it... an old man leaning against the trunk, smoking a long pipe.

The old man took a slow drag, then watched the shadow creeping toward him on the ground.

He lifted his head.

Just one glance...

Su Muxue’s expression darkened instantly, her muscles tensing imperceptibly.

Her life-nurtured spirit sword was... trembling in fear.