Clouds Light, Wind Gentle

On his way to the first room down the kitchen corridor, Zhu Yan heard a distant, furious scream.

The sound seemed to come from… no, it was definitely coming from the head chef's workstation.

Judging by the timbre, this was Ji Xiting at the end of his rope, completely shattered.

But what exactly Ji Xiting was shouting, Zhu Yan couldn't make out at all.

He activated his Persona, quickly slipping into the porcelain doll's workshop under the guise of "Zhu Zeyu," and locked the door behind him.

…

Inside the head chef's workstation.

Ji Xiting knelt on the ground, clutching a chunk of rotting flesh that was nearly liquefying.

It had dripped off the head chef's decaying body—

That body lay naked on the floor in front of Ji Xiting, the features on its rotting, blurry face still faintly discernible.

Ji Xiting's hands, holding the flesh, trembled.

This was all too absurd.

When he had arrived, the kitchen door had been tightly locked, and it had taken him some effort to force it open.

The kitchen clearly showed signs of recent use—there was leftover sauce on the counter, and the broth used to boil the meat was still warm.

Even the recipe book and knives were neatly set aside, as if someone had been working here just ten minutes ago.

But the head chef was rotten through and through, inside and out. There was no mistaking the warm, sticky feel of the rotting flesh, and waves of stench assailed Ji Xiting's nostrils.

But… but…

Ji Xiting's eyes reddened, his whole body shaking, his eye sockets flushing crimson under the surge of intense emotion.

If the head chef was dead, then who had gone up earlier?

Who was it that had seamlessly covered for him, so familiar with the Chaotic Game?

The surveillance footage—it couldn't have shown what he thought it did.

"The one who should be dead is the Hunter… the Hunter, right?"

Ji Xiting demanded, his voice cracking with tears.

He could no longer control his expression—laughing one moment, sobbing the next.

Under the weight of overwhelming terror, his muscles spasmed, and it took him several attempts before he could stagger to his feet on the slippery floor.

"Dragonfly!!" he shouted furiously, his voice nearly tearing. "You lied to me! You and the Hunter conspired against me!"

Ji Xiting reeled in circles on the spot, a tidal wave of terror, absurdity, and helplessness crashing over him.

He was furious, but the situation had already spiraled beyond recovery.

The fragment of Chaotic Order was lost, and the Hunter had disguised himself as the head chef, deceiving all the horror creatures.

And he himself, under the Hunter's cunning guidance, had boasted recklessly, admitting that everything was his own orchestration.

He was the one who had watched the surveillance. He was the one who had set the concept.

That meant the Hunter's loophole had been exploited right under his nose—this was a total failure of his duty.

How could he possibly patch up this insane hole?

Ji Xiting's eyes turned a terrifying deep red.

He clenched his fists, intending to head to the Lazy Craftsman's Shop to grab Dragonfly.

But suddenly, some noise came from outside, sending a chill of dread through Ji Xiting's entire body.

It was a muffled scream.

"Damn it!" The Madam eyed the mess in the corridor, lifting her skirts in disgust. "How could Ji Xiting have made such a mess of things?!"

…

Zhu Yan turned his head sharply, once again checking the door to the porcelain doll's workshop.

He had heard the Madam's voice, but those horror creatures hadn't gone downstairs after all.

Perhaps the pseudo-human had come through in the nick of time… in any case, Zhu Yan as his true self was confronted by Yang Zhanbai—tense, rigid, and grinding his teeth with hatred—the low, dim, empty corridor, and the calico cat that was pretending to be scared, crouched at Yang Zhanbai's feet and hissing at Zhu Yan.

Outwardly, Yang Zhanbai showed no fear.

"If you dare make a move, I'll shoot you on the spot."

Zhu Yan sneered at him in his own form, and without hesitation, turned his gun to aim at the assembled Key.

"Fine," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Then I'll take everyone down with me."

"You—" Yang Zhanbai cursed under his breath but ultimately stayed put.

Zhu Yan relaxed slightly and manipulated his puppet to keep observing the situation.

He needed to time this perfectly.

The Madam was here to settle accounts with Ji Xiting, and the truth would soon come to light.

At the very latest, they would head down to the corridor once they were done.

Even if the pseudo-human could hold them off for a while, it wouldn't last.

And for the best dramatic effect, he ideally needed to time it so that he could open the door right in front of the Madam and the others once they reached the corridor, ending the dungeon under their very noses.

On the floor where the puppet was, the porcelain doll's workshop was dead silent.

The desperate wails and cries that had been audible before had all stopped, leaving only the faint, bleak sound of sniffling.

The arrival of "Zhu Zeyu" slightly broke that deathly stillness.

Many people spotted him, and voices burst forth like water squeezed from a half-dry towel, from the players' weary, parched bodies.

In a short moment, the news spread from the edge of the cage to its center; the massive iron cage rattled as it was shaken, and excited shouts rose one after another.

"It's the big shot! He's alive, he's alive!"

"Zhu Zeyu?"

"Big shot, save us! I still have money on me—I'll give you everything!"

The young man who had spoken to Zhu Yan earlier grabbed the cage bars, examining Zhu Yan through his grimy glasses.

"Zhu… Zeyu?" He was both puzzled and astonished. "You're not dead… how did you manage it?"

Zhu Yan strode quickly to the cage, while the young man gasped excitedly, scrutinizing Zhu Yan as if examining a pseudo-human.

"Are you a horror creature, or…?"

The puppet's left hand was a clean, blank slate, so Zhu Yan couldn't show a player's mark to prove his identity.

While keeping an eye on Yang Zhanbai's situation downstairs, he made a mental gesture and pulled out that modified blade.

"I'm Zhu Zeyu," Zhu Yan said.

He then raised one hand and pressed it downward, signaling the others to quiet down. With a smooth motion, he drew the 13-level long blade and stepped forward to cut the cage's lock.

"Keep it down," he explained in a voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. "I've stirred up trouble. There are horror creatures next door—if they catch us, we're done for."

A few sharp screams burst from the packed crowd of players but were quickly shushed.

The players fell silent, frozen. The young man frowned at Zhu Yan's actions and shook his head.

"The cage is level 12."

What little hope had sparked quickly gave way to deeper despair.

There was a player who could see the levels of items.

A level-12 cage… would Zhu Zeyu really have a level-12 blade?

Even if he'd come back, they might not be saved after all.

Zhu Zeyu himself might even end up trapped again.

"Zhu, this blade of yours…"

But he never got to finish the question.

A soft click sounded from nearby—the sound of the cage door springing open.

Within the span of two sentences, Zhu Zeyu had already cut through the lock.

The cut was clean and smooth, showing the kind of precision you'd see when a knife slices through tofu.

"Stay quiet," Zhu Zeyu said, utterly calm. "If you die, that's on you."