Good Night

The bespectacled man shook his head, shivering as he indicated he didn’t know.

His clothes were layered thickly, the outermost thin jacket already soaked through, as if it could be wrung out at any moment.

“As long as we don’t open the door, nothing—nothing will happen.”

His upper and lower teeth chattered incessantly, his words interspersed with a clicking, clattering sound.

No one spoke anymore. Someone pulled out a stash of chocolate from their pocket and stuffed it into their mouth.

The fog in the room continued to thicken, slithering like snakes around the players.

It was getting colder—tiny beads of ice furiously invaded every gap in their clothing.

Before long, the bespectacled man’s layers of clothes turned damp and heavy, and not far from him, someone began taking off their jacket.

“Hot,” the person mumbled, standing up stiffly. “Hot.”

The bespectacled man swallowed hard.

“He’s hypothermic. Damn it, how did he get hypothermic so fast?”

This wasn’t normal either!

He looked toward the door, but his vision was already filled with thick fog that seemed about to condense into something solid.

What the hell was this thing?

The bespectacled man shrank back further, trying to pull someone in front of himself as a shield. But from the fog came a thud, and a blurry figure collapsed to the floor.

That sound was like a bell tolling a turning point.

The dense fog suddenly thinned, leaving only a faint, hazy mist in the room.

Crack.

Something creaked.

The bespectacled man gripped his clothes, his throat bobbing nervously.

Had he misheard?

Why did it feel like the sound came from…

the person who had fallen on the ground?

A few players exchanged glances. One of them rubbed the lingering goosebumps on his arms and said quietly, “I’ll go check it out.”

He carefully stepped down from the bed and ventured cautiously: “Hey… Xing Chong? You okay?”

The boy’s body gave a sudden crack, jerked upward, then went still again.

The player who had spoken immediately bent over, assuming a defensive stance.

The next second, a series of grinding bone sounds erupted. The boy’s waist arched upward in an eerie way, pulling up his thighs and calves, until he stood up from the ground like a marionette.

The player froze in terror.

The bespectacled man’s eyes bulged, not daring to look away from the corpse that had come back to life.

In front of him, the player who had stepped off the bed was breathing raggedly.

“What—what the hell… Aaaah!”

Squelch—

“Xing Chong’s” hand pierced through his chest.

With a series of wet, sticky, squishing sounds, the player’s eyes went wide as he fell to the floor, dead.

Two seconds later, someone let out a belated scream.

The bespectacled man scrambled backward, his back pressed against the cold, white wall.

Sheer terror locked his limbs, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“Who… who are you…?”

It was a stupid question. After hearing it, “Xing Chong” threw back its head and burst into loud laughter.

Its face had turned somewhat purple, and with its neck bent almost backward, it looked even less human.

“Where is Tu Shan?”

It didn’t answer the bespectacled man’s question. Its unfocused eyeballs labored to move in their sockets, eyelids stretched taut, unblinking.

“My… good son?”

“He killed me, took my stuff, and then what?!”

“Xing Chong’s” voice grew more intense, its tone twisting with strange inflections.

“He’s my vessel! Where is my vessel?!”

It walked stiffly to the middle of the dormitory and pulled aside the blue curtain.

Behind the curtain—nothing!

Only the familiar scent of Tu Shan remained…

The fog, now inhabiting the human body, lifted its neck and sniffed deeply.

No, that’s wrong.

It had finally realized: that “son” wasn’t its real son. That was Tu Shan’s sly trick.

But, it had definitely placed the [Key Fragment] into Tu Shan’s body.

That fact wouldn’t change. It couldn’t run away.

Just now, it had circled the corridor.

Except for room 303, whose door it couldn’t break through, it hadn’t seen Tu Shan’s shadow in any other room.

But if Tu Shan had left, the fog would have followed him!

So Tu Shan must be in room 303!

…

Inside room 303.

Several voices shouted the floor-change command simultaneously, and the door to room 303 vanished from the wall instantly.

The dense fog in the corridor paused abruptly. Xing Chong’s head turned stiffly at the same moment, its entire body freezing in place.

Room 303 was gone—the floor must have changed.

Its lips twisted upward stiffly.

Heh. But it had said it before.

Tu Shan was the perfect vessel. If he left, the fog would follow the teleportation!

“Xing Chong” let out a low laugh, crossing its arms in wait.

One second. Two seconds.

Ten seconds…

But the corridor didn’t change. The players around it didn’t change either.

“Xing Chong” frowned in displeasure.

What did this mean?

Had the rule mechanism of [Jubilant Paradise] malfunctioned?

It was about to use Xing Chong’s body to demand an answer when a cheerful female voice rang in its ear.

“Wow! Hello there, you loser!”

The fog—imprisoned in Xing Chong’s corpse—looked even more sour.

“What do you mean by ‘loser’?” it rasped coldly.

“You’re the poster child for losers!” the female voice declared with dramatic flair, then cut straight to the point.

“Guardian, we regret to inform you that you have lost the [Key Fragment].”

Xing Chong’s body went stiff.

“Two [Hunters] have infiltrated your floor,” the female voice explained with a hint of hidden amusement.

“One [Hunter] is dead. The other [Hunter], after toying with you and declaring himself your father, has taken the precious [Key Fragment 3].”

“How sad! Your name is ‘Guardian,’ but you guard nothing!”

The fog sensed something was terribly wrong.

Anxiety surged through it, and part of the mist in the corridor dissipated in agitation.

What did she mean, two [Hunters]…?

One [Hunter] it knew was Tu Shan. Then the other was… was…

The fog churned violently, and even Xing Chong’s body trembled hard.

It remembered.

It knew the content of the [Wanted Notice] for Mr. Frog and the Treant. It said the [Hunter] who had stolen two [Key Fragments] was skilled at disguise…

But—but no one had told it that a [Hunter] could pretend to be a player!

So, the real Tu Shan…

The fog dared not dwell on it further.

But the female voice wasn’t about to let it off.

“Yes, Guardian.”

“I confirm once again for you.”

“The [Key Fragment] number 3, which you were guarding, has been lost.”

“Please find a way to take action immediately!”

Xing Chong’s body shook even more violently.

Then suddenly, it opened its mouth and let out a cold, eerie, low laugh.

“Which floor did he switch to?”

“Xing Chong” opened its jaw and hissed darkly.

“Which. Floor. Did. He. Switch. To?”

“No comment,” the female voice said cheerfully. “You’ll have to find another way.”

“Wan An!”