WTNL Chapter 243

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Changsheng Building
Chapter 243: You belong to me

 Changsheng Building, Fourth Floor

The interior of the building was dim and hazy, not completely dark, shrouded in an eerie grey mist. Through the mist, one could vaguely see other similar yet slightly different structures on the other floors.

In the corridor of the fourth floor, each shop had two unlit lanterns hanging outside its door, seemingly not yet lit because the time had not come.

More importantly, on the fourth floor, there was only one shop in each of the four directions: east, west, north, and south.

This meant that on the fourth floor, there were only four shops to choose from. If the number of teams entering this floor exceeded “4”, they would have to engage in a fierce battle.

And on this floor, such a scenario was unfolding.

In the Live Broadcasting Hall of the “Changsheng Building” Instance:

[Oh oh! This is the first time I’ve seen such a situation inside the Changsheng Building!]

[More than four teams have actually entered the fourth floor. I’ve watched this instance many times, and this is the first time I’ve seen it. It seems that the overall quality of the anchors this time is really high.]

[Or… maybe all the highest difficulty traps have been triggered by the same unlucky person.]

[……]

[……]

[Good point, no rebuttal.]

As soon as the Orange Candy Squad left the third floor, they were blocked at the entrance to the fourth floor.

Qi Qian, who had been resurrected, Zhang Yu, who had recovered, Tong Yao, and the united An Xin and Su Cheng, a whole murderous squad, blocked the entrance.

“Treat others as they treat you,” Su Cheng smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “This is what you taught me.”

In An Xin’s palm, a flame-like arrow appeared, menacingly aimed at the squad in front:

“Where is Wen Wen?”

“Bring her here!”

*

“—?!”

Upon hearing the familiar voice close to his ear, Wen Jianyan was momentarily stunned and stopped struggling.

In a stress response, the young man was still breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently, his limbs and body tense like a bowstring stretched to its limit.

Through the red fabric, the outline of his features could be vaguely seen. His hot breath was trapped in front of his mouth and nose, his lips opening and closing, a hoarse voice muffled in the confined space, his trembling throat bobbing with a bit of lingering fear, he asked uncertainly:

“Wu Zhu?”

The space inside the paper sedan chair was not large, and it was especially cramped and narrow with two adult male bodies squeezed in.

Yu Zhu lowered his head.

His pitch-black, cold hair flowed down his shoulders, falling onto Wen Jianyan, enclosing the two of them tightly.

Wen Jianyan looked up, and in the open scarlet wedding gown, a small patch of sweaty skin was revealed, sticking to the messy silver-white strands of hair.

Wu Zhu held Wen Jianyan down, his gaze falling on his throat, and responded coldly.

“…Mm.”

“Goddamn… you scared me to death.”

Hearing the response, Wen Jianyan let out a long breath.

In the “Changsheng Building” instance, the terror level escalated floor by floor. This increasing sense of danger was the most obvious he had ever encountered in any instance so far.

Here, both the level of horror and the degree of danger increased step by step over time.

Like dominoes, once the first piece fell, it triggered a cursed chain reaction, one terrifying event after another, escalating to a point where it could drive a normal person to their limit.

Moreover, Wen Jianyan was probably on the most dangerous path in the entire instance.

At first, when he was with his teammates, it was still bearable…

But after carrying the curse into the third painting, Wen Jianyan became completely isolated, walking a path that perhaps no one had ever walked before, alone in the deadly darkness, with terrifying dangers lurking at every corner. Even Wen Jianyan, who was good at hiding his emotions and controlling his instinctive reactions, was suffocated by the overwhelming fear in the endless darkness.

Wu Zhu’s familiar presence was like a godsend.

Although he was not human either, compared to the other corpses in the “Changsheng Building,” even the usually disagreeable Wu Zhu seemed more pleasing to the eye now.

The young man’s tense and stiff body relaxed, as if surviving a disaster, he leaned his forehead heavily on Wu Zhu’s shoulder.

This time, it was Wu Zhu’s body that tensed up.

The forehead against his shoulder was not heavy, but it was unexpectedly impossible to ignore.

“……”

Strange.

A certain eerie hunger and thirst ignited once more, subtly different from previous times, faintly, darkly… that uncontrollable unfamiliarity even made Wu Zhu himself feel anxious.

He frowned, lowered his head, and looked at the young man in his arms.

The red headscarf had become somewhat disheveled in the struggle, hanging slightly forward, revealing a small section of the young man’s neck. The silver strands of hair were messy, a small segment of fair, thin neck still glistening with sweat. The red collar was open, the neckline’s slender bone structure curving, winding down into the collar, faintly revealing a small patch of back.

Hot.

That small patch of skin seemed perfect for biting into.

Bite a small piece of flesh, grind it between the teeth until tasting the flavor of blood, then lick it away greedily and happily.

Such an image flashed clearly through his mind, as if it had really happened.

Gazing at the human so close at hand, the depths of Wu Zhu’s golden eyes roiled, and he unconsciously tightened his grip.

For some unknown reason, Wen Jianyan suddenly felt a chill down his spine, as if being watched by something dangerous.

Unfortunately, the red cover still obscured his vision, his view blocked by the thin fabric, his hot breath trapped beneath, unable to see anything, his senses sharpened in the darkness.

The only thing he could clearly feel… was that the restraint on his body seemed to be increasing, and becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

“…Hmm.”

Wen Jianyan frowned and let out a muffled groan.

“Hey,”

Instinctive response to danger set off alarms in his mind, making Wen Jianyan instinctively retreat a bit, saying:

“It’s time to let me go now.”

“……”

The air was silent for a few seconds.

The atmosphere seemed somewhat strange.

Wen Jianyan steadied himself, about to say something more, but the next second, he felt the dark bonds that had been restraining his limbs and body gradually dissipate.

Was he released?

He paused for a moment.

“……”

Wen Jianyan rubbed his wrists, looking uncertainly forward, but in the pitch blackness, with the thin fabric separating them, he couldn’t see anything.

Wu Zhu remained silent, seemingly having no intention of responding to him.

…Forget it.

Wen Jianyan shrugged, tossing aside the strange feeling he had just experienced, and got straight to the point, “We’ve already left the Changsheng Building instance, right?”

After calming down, Wen Jianyan quickly pieced together all the clues in his mind.

First, there was the existence of [the third painting]. Its dimension was clearly higher than the other paintings. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a candle, something very similar to lamp oil, which is a valuable tool in Changsheng Building that requires exchange to obtain. The candle, however, can be directly acquired within the third painting.

This is definitely not a coincidence.

In other words, the courtyard within the third painting is very likely on par with the Changsheng Building.

And the place the small path extends to from this painting is definitely not ordinary either.

This is also reflected in other details.

First, there is the disappearance of “appearance”.

Aside from his talent, the live broadcast interface and the system store all turned gray… This represents a weakening of the Nightmare’s control, which is all too familiar to Wen Jianyan, as he had seen such a situation only in Wu Zhu’s darkness.

More importantly, the third point is “Wu Zhu” himself.

He is corporeal.

In the instance controlled by the Nightmare live broadcast room, Wu Zhu was greatly restricted, almost unable to appear normally, and could only influence the instance through the mirror’s dream. Just now, Wen Jianyan heard a muffled grunt of displeasure when he punched him, which means that in this space, he exists in physical form.

After ruling out all impossible options, this is the only remaining explanation—

That is, strictly speaking, they are no longer in the conventional concept of a “instance.”

“Yes.”

Through the red bridal veil, Wu Zhu’s deep and calm voice sounded, lightly confirming Wen Jianyan’s guess.

Sure enough.

Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes covering the fleeting brilliance in his eyes.

If he were to make a comparison, this place is more like the space within the “Mr. Mirror” that he inadvertently entered within the “Decai Middle School” instance. It’s neither completely detached from the instance nor entirely within it, but rather a crevice between the two.

To be precise…

Many details in the Changsheng Building instance made Wen Jianyan’s thoughts scatter.

And the most crucial of these is the red-dressed female corpse on the second floor.

It was “trapped” in the mirror.

And after leaving the mirror, it did not disappear but came to the third floor as a “customer” and made a “purchase”…

All of a sudden.

Wen Jianyan was stunned, seeming to realize something.

Purchase?

Purchase what?

In an instant, a terrifying thought crossed his mind, making Wen Jianyan freeze in place.

On the first floor of the Changsheng Building, the “customers” entering the shops have no physical form. When they purchase items, the oil lamp’s light dims, and ghost money appears on the table.

Starting from the second floor, the “customers” have hands when purchasing items.

A blue-black human hand appears on the counter, leaves ghost money, and slowly retracts into the darkness.

And the items purchased by customers on the first floor are the “clothes” worn by the plastic mannequins.

Which means human skin.

The items on the second floor are radios and televisions, but that’s just a surface disguise.

The true form of these items exists in the mirror world, where the rows of heads on the shelves are. The items the “customers” purchase are certain existences within these heads.

Radios release curses through sound, and the key tool in the second wave of attacks from the nursery rhyme was eyeballs.

Therefore, the actual items on the second floor are “vision” or “senses.”

The items on the third floor can be inferred similarly.

Whether it’s the male corpse covered by the canvas in the first painting, the child’s corpse missing a face in the second painting, or the female corpse with a red veil in the third painting, the keyword is “face.”

Which means, the items on this floor are “facial features.”

If his guess is correct, then, the Changsheng Building instance is essentially a process where those “customers” piece themselves together completely through purchasing fragments!!

Wen Jianyan’s hair stood on end.

Similarly, one question he had always hoped to understand but never got an answer to also became clearer.

The “task” Wu Zhu gave him was to pass the next instance, which meant entering the fifth floor of the Changsheng Building.

And the Nightmare live broadcast, although it didn’t directly explain to Wen Jianyan, based on its distribution mechanism, Wen Jianyan was sure that his next instance would definitely be related to his next stage goal— “re-suppressing Wu Zhu.”

So, what exactly is special about the Changsheng Building instance? So much so that it has become a key target for both sides?

The mechanism of the “customers” gave Wen Jianyan a clue from the red-dressed female corpse on the second floor.

They are all fragmented pieces,

Which means… this instance is closely related to Wu Zhu’s current fragmented state.

It can both split a terrifying existence into different fragments, trapped in different worlds, and allow those terrifying existences to piece themselves back together bit by bit.

Doesn’t this sound very familiar?

Isn’t this exactly what Wu Zhu has been doing from the beginning until now?

Based on this inference, the fifth floor of the Changsheng Building is highly likely to house a very crucial existence—it can both split and merge terrifying corpses.

The Nightmare needs to re-split Wu Zhu, while Wu Zhu needs to make himself whole.

This might be why the Nightmare both gave Wen Jianyan the worst luck and the most terrifying trials while also providing him with the “non-human” privilege.

Because…

It also needs Wen Jianyan to enter the fifth floor.

And the fifth floor is not a place that an ordinary person can enter casually.

The scarlet paper sedan chair swayed, the dense footsteps outside echoed in the surrounding darkness.

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, steadied himself, and continued to ask:

“If the sedan chair continues forward… does it go to the fifth floor of the Changsheng Building?”

“Yes.”

Wu Zhu replied.

Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.

Sure enough.

By some twist of fate, he had inexplicably skipped the middle floor and directly entered the most crucial space of the entire instance!

Wu Zhu: “However, it’s not the time to enter yet.”

Wen Jianyan was taken aback.

If everything he deduced was correct, then in front was Wu Zhu’s true destination. So why would he say that?

Unless…

Wen Jianyan’s heart sank slightly as if he suddenly thought of something.

The “non-human privilege” provided by the Nightmare has another interpretation.

The fifth floor is not a place that an ordinary person can enter casually.

In other words—

The fifth floor is not a place a human can “enter alive.”

Based on the way he entered, if he wanted to skip the fourth floor and directly enter the fifth floor, he would need to replace the face in the portrait and become the corpse in the third painting.

Of course, the price is also great.

“If you enter through this path, you will be trapped here forever.”

Wu Zhu leaned down, reached a hand into the red veil, pinched the young man’s chin with cold fingers, and gently stroked it, saying in a low voice:

“But, don’t forget our deal.”

“You belong to me.”

His voice was still cold and calm, but when he said this, there was a hint of deep, dark desire at the end of his words.

Suddenly, Wen Jianyan realized that in this small paper sedan, the distance between the two had shortened to the extreme, their bodies overlapping. Even normal breathing would cause his chest to brush against Wu Zhu’s cold body.

He couldn’t help but move back a little, but his back hit the inner wall of the sedan.

No room to retreat.

“Of course.”

Wen Jianyan answered as calmly as possible, letting Wu Zhu lift his face by his chin.

“If you don’t want to stay here forever, you have to go upstairs through another path.”

Wu Zhu’s voice sounded close to his ear, a hand pressing on Wen Jianyan’s lower back, sliding along the curve of his spine, finally resting on the back of his neck.

Wu Zhu had intended to do this from the start.

He slowly caressed the young man’s warm and delicate neck, feeling the slight tremors and shivers on his skin, like a beast biting its prey’s throat, enjoying every tiny sign of life from its prey—then, with two fingers, he caught a struggling spider in his palm.

Wu Zhu’s fingers lightly pinched.

“Squeak—”

The ugly, filthy bug from another man’s body was easily crushed in Wu Zhu’s hand with a sharp cry.

All the unfamiliar scents on Wen Jianyan disappeared, replaced by his own scent.

Wu Zhu’s mood finally brightened.

He lowered his head, looking at the human trapped in his embrace.

The young man’s head was forced back, the back of his head pressed against the inner wall of the paper sedan, the scarlet veil tilted, revealing half of his face.

On his fair chin were faint, reddish round marks left by Wu Zhu’s fingers earlier.

His nose was cold, his breath damp and rapid, exhaling into Wu Zhu’s palm.

Warm, tingling slightly.

“……”

Those fragmented memories from the soul were broken and chaotic, full of annoying uncontrolled oddities, so he forcefully suppressed and sealed them.

However, even when suppressed, those images never truly disappeared, like a festering sore that occasionally emerged to cause trouble, making Wu Zhu extremely annoyed.

Just like now.

He was obviously hungry, but for some reason, Wu Zhu’s gaze involuntarily fell on the other’s lips.

…Damn memories.

His full lower lip was pale pink, slightly parted due to suffocation, revealing the moist red mucous membrane inside, with the tip of his pale tongue against his white teeth, trembling slightly in the darkness, like the soft and fragile flesh of a clam, shimmering with faint wet light.

He wants to have a taste.

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