The clothes are washed but neither folded nor put away in order.

The aura it exuded was clearly more terrifying than that of the fake humans; without a doubt, it was The Boss.

How should he answer?

The tone of that sentence was indistinguishable from a human's, and it was quite casual, like a teasing greeting.

But it couldn't possibly be just teasing—because the flesh and skin around those eyeballs were rapidly rotting away.

From a distance, the black, rotting flesh and exposed teeth combined to form a grinning, hideous face.

He could also see thin streams of saliva dripping from that rotting mouth, looking like silver threads under the bright white light.

Ugh, it's already drooling with hunger.

"Wait!" Zhu Yan immediately shouted.

"Captain," a sharp, bizarre voice echoed through the hall. The Boss maintained its original posture, tilting its head slightly forward and to the side in a listening gesture.

Zhu Yan's back felt a bit sticky, cold sweat oozing out uncontrollably.

He needed information about the next level and the Alpha Wolf. Even if he knew nothing about this place, he had to make sure he didn't blow his cover in front of The Boss.

And Yang Zhanbai was right next to him; he could hear the other man's violently pounding heart.

This was a useful pawn.

Therefore, he also had to make his story consistent in front of Yang Zhanbai, at least matching the narrative he had spun in the Flower Shop.

"It is night now, The Boss."

Zhu Yan's mind raced, and he immediately came up with an excuse.

Horror creatures craved flesh and blood, and naturally, The Boss was no exception.

There weren't many players who could gather all the fragments to begin with, which meant that the Bar was short on ingredients.

It was very likely blaming Zhu Yan for bringing rare "food" into the front hall instead of the kitchen!

Zhu Yan glanced at the nervous Yang Zhanbai beside him and sold him out without hesitation.

"The rules state," Zhu Yan watched The Boss's every move vigilantly, "that after dark, we can attack players."

Under the overhead light, The Boss's rotting eye sockets healed slightly, making its ghostly face look less ferocious.

Zhu Yan was fully focused, not even daring to blink.

It seemed he had bet correctly—

If what The Boss cared about most was food, then things would be easy to handle.

Mimicking the "Captain," he tilted his head toward Yang Zhanbai to continue probing.

"So, there is food tonight."

More of the rotting flesh recovered. From a distance, The Boss's face looked like a man with furrowed brows.

It lowered its arms and fiddled with something behind the bar counter.

This state looked better than before. Perhaps because of the previous reminder, The Boss finally remembered the rules that were advantageous to it.

But Zhu Yan didn't dare relax in the slightest.

"Bro, come here and help me pick something out," The Boss said hoarsely. "Also, you brought the only food to the front hall just to tell me it's night now and that the front hall is the same as the kitchen?"

The phrasing of The Boss's last sentence had a rhythmic cadence, like it was rapping.

Nice rhyme, bro.

Yang Zhanbai trembled slightly in nervousness beside him, his clothes rustling softly against the air.

If the sound were any louder, it would serve as the backing track.

Zhu Yan wanted to make a teasing remark but held it back.

The clinking of metal cutlery came from behind the bar. Zhu Yan heightened his vigilance and calmly took a step forward, ready to activate his ability at any moment.

"There's something else," Zhu Yan said. "I found something interesting..."

He followed The Boss's instructions and slowly moved toward the bar, his muscles tense and his mind racing non-stop.

The Boss's eye sockets were completely healed, meaning he had bet correctly on at least one part.

The other party cared about food.

And Yang Zhanbai, as the players' vanguard, would inevitably bring more players down once he got the clues and returned.

If he used the excuse of "letting the food bring more food down," could he convince The Boss to hand over some clues for the next level?

If he could, he would have the clues.

He could also successfully take Yang Zhanbai back above ground and provide false information about the Hunter.

Zhu Yan stopped in front of the bar counter. He could clearly see the bloodshot veins on The Boss's eyeballs.

They were fixed in their sockets, their pupils cloudy, lifeless dead objects.

"Come to the back."

The Boss ordered, its damaged mouth struggling to pull upwards at the corners, forming a bizarre smile that made Zhu Yan's hair stand on end.

The smiles of horror creatures never had anything to do with friendliness.

"What did you find? Tell me."

Zhu Yan gripped his dagger, seeking a bit of illusory mental comfort.

He walked around to the back of the counter, taking a glance at Yang Zhanbai along the way.

Yang Zhanbai had already stepped out of the golden cage. He was looking warily in their direction, slowly edging closer.

God knows what he was trying to do, but it wouldn't affect Zhu Yan's next moves anyway.

Zhu Yan withdrew his gaze and slowly walked behind the bar.

The Boss stood in front of the smooth marble counter, looking down at the row of table knives lined up on the stone slab.

There were five knives in total, their sharp blades gleaming coldly under the light.

"The students aren't completely clueless."

Afraid that The Boss might stab him with a knife, Zhu Yan chose to stand three paces away from it.

He lowered his voice, making sure Yang Zhanbai couldn't hear their conversation clearly.

"Some of them realized something was wrong, formed groups, and tried every possible way to buy our things."

The Boss turned its head and tilted it slightly, like a lively young person expressing a willingness to listen.

But Zhu Yan only kept an eye on its hand movements.

What if it went crazy and stabbed him?

"They sent someone down to test the rules," Zhu Yan continued to lie. "It's the one I brought here."

The corners of The Boss's mouth split wider.

It twisted its neck to look at Yang Zhanbai, its fingers twitching, as if hesitating whether to pick up a knife.

"And then?" It mimicked Zhu Yan, lowering its voice. "First, tell me, what level is this player?"

What did the player's level have to do with anything?

Zhu Yan looked at The Boss in surprise. The Boss was looking down, its fingers lightly tapping the knives, making a gesture of selection.

"From left to right, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5." It smiled eerily. "Which level of knife should I use to deal with him?"

Holy crap.

There was a level 5 knife meant to deal with level 5 players!

Zhu Yan's eyes lit up, and he almost couldn't suppress his smirk.

As everyone knows, small props like weapons can generally kill both players and monsters.

If it can kill a level 5 player, it can kill a level 5 Alpha Wolf!

Good stuff.

It was his!

Zhu Yan quickly adjusted his demeanor, pretending to be cautious: "He should be a level 1 player. However, judging from our officers' reactions, his ability should be level 3."

"If this person learns more information about the level..."

Zhu Yan weighed his words carefully: "Then, he will bring all the lucid people down here."

"There will be more ingredients. That's why I brought him to the front hall."

The Boss twisted its neck back and stopped talking.

It looked coldly at Zhu Yan for quite a while before breaking into a smile.

This low-level thing didn't seem as stupid as it had thought.

However, it was displeased.

According to the rules, it had to share half of the food brought down with the "Captain," The Flayer—

But why should it have to share?

Wouldn't it be more beneficial to kill the "Captain" and use the players as bait itself?

The corners of The Boss's mouth stretched even wider.

The next second.

It grabbed the Level 4 dining knife and thrust it straight at Zhu Yan's heart!

Zhu Yan did not even have the time to freeze in shock.

Extreme tension made him reflexively activate [Complain], and as he dodged to the side, he muttered a low curse.

"Stupid piece of trash!"

The cold, gleaming blade let out a faint whistle as it cut through the air. However, thanks to the effect of [Complain], the knife veered slightly off course just as Zhu Yan dodged, barely grazing his jacket.

"Are you fucking sick? Did your cerebral cortex rot away along with the skin on your face?"

Carried by momentum, The Boss stumbled forward a few steps before coming to a halt, its hand still tightly gripping the sharp knife.

With no time to feel the aftershocks of fear, Zhu Yan backhandedly grabbed the Level 5 dining knife and lunged forward, unleashing a rapid string of hushed curses.

"Dumbass, you're a fucking washed piece of laundry, neither folded nor sorted, and even the hangers are soaking wet..."