Even top-tier players wouldn’t manage to offend every passenger—regardless of species—within five minutes of getting on the bus.
But Zhou Qi’an did.
As a result, the other players momentarily forgot to argue with him, let alone try to reason or morally pressure him.
The bus fell into an eerie silence.
So silent that the ongoing bidding felt like a one-man show.
Zhou Qi’an wasn’t the least bit embarrassed and continued resting with his eyes closed.
Less than two minutes later, a shadow loomed over him.
Even before opening his eyes, Zhou Qi’an had already positioned himself defensively.
The person standing before him hesitated for a moment. In some ways, this young man had a keen sense of self-awareness—he clearly knew he had the kind of face that invited trouble.
The newcomer extended a hand—not to attack—but to offer a deal.
“Trade,” he said flatly.
A voice Zhou Qi’an didn’t recognize.
Lifting his eyelids, he saw it was the hooded figure from the back row—the one who had remained silent all this time. The man was tall and lean, but there was an undeniable strength in his frame. One hand was tucked in his pocket, while the other held a small cat-ear alarm clock in his palm.
Zhou Qi’an reached out to touch it, and a system prompt automatically popped up:
【Ding-Ding Alarm: Rings once every three hours at night.】
- Usage Guide: Whether it’s sleep paralysis or an unexplained unconsciousness, as long as you hold out until the alarm rings, you’ll have a chance to wake up.
- Quality: Questionable at best.
- Note: Avoid using unnecessarily. If there are no ghosts around after midnight, this alarm might just summon one.
What a fantastic quality rating.
“You sure you want to trade?” Zhou Qi’an asked.
The hooded figure nodded.
“Alright.” Zhou Qi’an accepted the deal and waited for the other party to bring out a contract item. But after a moment, he realized the hooded figure had no intention of doing so—he wasn’t the least bit worried about being scammed.
“Straightforward guy!” Zhou Qi’an chuckled, taking the alarm clock and half-rising from his seat. He leaned in and whispered a few words.
A few seconds later, the world plunged into darkness.
The bus lights shut off abruptly, and everyone on board tensed up. The hooded figure, having received the information, silently returned to his seat.
The darkness was brief. Sunlight streamed in through the windows again, giving the illusion of a dawn breaking over the world.
At the back of the bus, a long metallic bull’s tail—formed from countless interwoven chains—dragged behind. As the tail fully exited the tunnel, it signified that no one else would be boarding.
“9 plus 9…” Zhou Qi’an muttered. The number of passengers didn’t match up with the number of players.
Scanning the cabin carefully, he suddenly spotted two more players.
One had such an incredibly low presence that it took him a couple of glances to even notice them. The other was simply too physically small to register at first glance—a dwarf, no more than a meter tall, slouching in his seat so deeply that the front-row chairs almost completely concealed him.
“Eight men, one woman?” The ratio was odd.
A voice suddenly rang out—it was the MP3-listening girl:
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but you all would’ve found out soon anyway. First of all, I’m not a girl. Secondly, I’m not a boy either.”
For a moment, everyone was silent.
Zhou Qi’an immediately asked, “Are we talking about perception, or…?”
The person chuckled playfully. “Oh, you~ I mean physically, of course.”
“……”
While the players discussed the game mechanics, the monsters on the bus remained oblivious to their conversation. Someone spoke up:
“It’s probably related to their initial evolution species. Before any changes occurred, the game likely categorized them as male. At least, that’s how the system seems to be treating it. 9 plus 9… If the prompt isn’t mistaken, there must be another bus.”
The player pondered for a moment. “Nine-nine returns to one… could it have something to do with the balance of yin and yang?”
The origami boy scoffed. “Or maybe it’s just a warning that this game won’t be easy. We should just wipe out everyone else as soon as possible, so we’re the last ones left to clear the instance.”
A heavy silence fell over the group.
On this point, Zhou Qi’an agreed with the origami boy. Han Li’s survival guide had one core principle: If you can’t defeat the monsters, take out your own people first.
The game’s nine-nine returns to one likely hinted at the same philosophy.
The origami boy sneered, “Yet some people hoard their scraps of intel like it’s the crown jewels, acting like they’re above the rest.”
Clearly aiming at Zhou Qi’an.
Zhou Qi’an wiped his glasses, pretending not to hear.
Meanwhile, the baseball cap player shared some random, half-true information. Even if it was just for appearances, it helped him establish better relationships with the others.
Watching Zhou Qi’an’s back, baseball cap’s lips curled into a slow grin. The only way to make monsters unsure whether someone was human or ghost was by releasing yin energy.
One of the monsters had changed its mind after looking into Zhou Qi’an’s chest cavity.
“There’s definitely something good in there.”
An unexpected gain.
The baseball cap player grinned, revealing his first smile since entering the instance.
At some point, he’d have to find a way to dig it out and take a look.
·
The bus officially entered the city. Honking horns, street vendors shouting—both sides of the road were filled with scenes of bustling human life.
Unfortunately, no matter how beautiful a setting was in a instance, it was nothing more than the thin skin of a Painted-Skin Ghost.
The Minotaur’s Bus slowed down, signaling that they were nearing their destination.
A broadcast instructed the players to check their tickets.
Everyone hastily wrote down their chosen evolution paths. Zhou Qi’an remained consistent—after selecting his toes, he now chose his feet. Compared to the others, he had a major advantage. As long as he earned settlement experience, his five-star Fish Eyes would gradually enhance his other organs, accelerating his overall growth.
After filling out his selection, Zhou Qi’an glanced out the window. Time to go to work.
The college student was still holding that small mirror, and in it, he clearly saw the meaningful, almost sinister smile on the baseball cap player’s face—undoubtedly up to no good.
He was about to warn Zhou Qi’an when he saw the latter lower his eyes and mumble, “So annoying…”
The phrase repeated over and over, his tone filled with such irritable frustration that it sent a quiet shiver down the listener’s spine.
When it was Zhou Qi’an’s turn to hand over his ticket, he found his pockets empty.
Looking toward the Minotaur, he saw that all the players’ tickets had already been placed beside him.
Zhou Qi’an asked, “No need to hand them in one by one? That’s so like Mr. Si—”
The Minotaur cut him off: “Pointless theatrics.”
Clearly, he was commenting on Mr. Si’s fondness for useless embellishments.
·
The moment they stepped off the bus, the players immediately sensed something was off.
City real estate was incredibly expensive—urban centers were the busiest places. Yet, just a thousand meters away, the difference in pedestrian flow was night and day.
And in this desolate part of town stood a massive Building.
The building had a perfectly standard rectangular structure, its exterior completely covered in small square glass panels. Due to its age, the walls had taken on a yellowish tint.
At the top, in striking red letters, were the words:
Jinxiang Building.
Zhou Qi’an had seen his fair share of eerie places. Liangye Manor had been chilling and terrifying, but at least it had the appearance of a normal building—one that could be replicated in movies or real life.
Jinxiang Building was different.
Just looking at it felt wrong. Unlucky. Unclean. Zhou Qi’an even had an instinctive urge to stay far away from it.
·
Without a word, the origami boy quickly folded ten paper cranes. They spread their wings and flew in different directions.
Only one managed to enter the third floor.
The rest never even reached the windows. Instead, they were stained a deep, bloody red, as if ink had seeped into the paper. Finally, the cranes dissolved midair, leaving only pools of blood where they once were.
“This Building…” The origami boy’s expression changed slightly—he was clearly starting to feel uneasy.
Then, his eyes locked onto Zhou Qi’an.
“You really don’t want to share information?”
In a four-star instance, even the tiniest bit of intel could be crucial at the right moment.
Zhou Qi’an shook his head. His thin lips parted.
“Ladybug.”
After all this, they still expected to mooch off him for free.
The origami boy’s expression turned cold.
But Zhou Qi’an suddenly changed his tone.
“Doesn’t matter whether I share or not—I’ll get targeted either way.”
The origami boy let out a disbelieving laugh. “Who would target you for no reason—”
Before he could finish, another Minotaur’s Bus pulled up.
This time, the driver was a mechanical puppet.
Nine players stepped off.
The first to appear was a tall figure wearing a red cloak.
The high boots further emphasized her long, slender legs.
The only flaw in her appearance was her skin—it was too pale.
Not the delicate fairness of porcelain, but a waxy, lifeless white, making her resemble a life-sized doll.
The street was wide and spacious, but she walked in a straight line toward them.
“Out of the way, mutt.”
Zhou Qi’an laughed.
The origami boy: “…”
He couldn’t understand why the red cloak girl was targeting Zhou Qi’an.
He did, however, recognize her—she was from the Little Red Riding Hood Association.
Beneath its fairy-tale name, the organization was full of wolves in sheep’s clothing.
After thinking it over, he could only conclude that Zhou Qi’an was just born to attract hostility.
Yet Zhou Qi’an didn’t even react to the insult.
Instead, after putting on his wig and glasses, his demeanor transformed entirely—so much so that he now looked easier to bully than even the youngest college student among them.
·
With all the players now gathered, the monstrous passengers waiting outside the Building exchanged glances.
The conjoined old women let out a sharp, eerie giggle and stepped forward.
“Welcome, everyone, to your internship at Jinxiang Building…”
She paused.
Then, her grin widened—revealing her gums and a densely packed row of teeth.
As if waiting for something.
The players immediately took out the small cards they had obtained on the bus.
Seeing that everyone had one, the conjoined old woman seemed a little disappointed.
The ordinary-looking cards suddenly emitted a faint glow, and a small notification popped up on Zhou Qi’an’s mental interface:
【Elevator Card: Jinxiang Building Elevator Access Card.】
Interns recruited through Jinxiang Building’s external hiring program may hold this card.
The conjoined old woman spoke in a respectful tone: “Jinxiang Building has been open for a long time. We have very high standards for external hires—we do not allow anyone to damage the Building’s reputation.”
The players were speechless.
This place was so desolate that even birds wouldn’t shit here, yet they had the audacity to talk about reputation?
As if reading their thoughts, both of the conjoined old woman’s heads grinned menacingly, and the players quickly straightened their expressions.
Only then did she continue, “The Building has a total of eighteen floors. I am the manager of several of them, overseeing sanitation inspections, utilities, contracts, and other miscellaneous tasks.” She pointed at the six-armed man and the metal-bodied humanoid. “They have the same job as me, just managing different floors.”
“There are a total of thirty regular businesses in the Building, including Jin Ji’s Rice Shop, Jin Fufu’s Jewelry, Jin Locksmith Professional Lock Services…”
Zhou Qi’an muttered quietly to the college student beside him, “She’s listing so much, isn’t she getting thirsty?”
The conjoined old woman suddenly turned, facing them with her other head. “In addition, we also have a dance studio, an art classroom, and a children’s tutoring center.”
“……”
To summarize, Jinxiang Building was a chaotic mix of businesses, residents, and office spaces, some of which were even engaged in gray-market dealings.
The conjoined old woman suddenly extended a sharp finger and pointed at the origami boy.
“Where do you want to intern?”
The origami boy frowned. The NPC had rattled off over eighty names so quickly that he hadn’t even remembered half of them, let alone analyzed them.
The conjoined old woman narrowed her eyes. “Haven’t decided?”
Forced to answer, the origami boy picked randomly. “Jinle Cultural & Creative.”
She then turned to the next person.
“I’ll go to Jin—” The player hesitated, considering that it might be safer to stick with another person, but at the last moment, they changed their answer. “Jinzhu Dance Studio.”
It wasn’t yet clear if choosing the same location as someone else was allowed—better to play it safe.
As for the players who had interacted with the monster passengers, they were asked last.
The conjoined old woman’s grin widened, and in the end, she personally walked over to Zhou Qi’an.
“What about you?”
Being singled out by an NPC was never a good thing.
Zhou Qi’an answered confidently, “Jin Ji’s Rice Shop.”
His calm certainty made it obvious that he had obtained this information from the monster passengers on the bus.
The origami boy’s expression darkened.
Earlier, he had exchanged a few words with a player from the other bus. When he heard about Zhou Qi’an’s “brilliant” performance, the other player had covered their mouth and laughed.
“He’s really that clueless?”
She wasn’t particularly concerned about Zhou Qi’an—there were always one or two self-important players in every instance, and without exception, they all died miserable deaths.
The players were more focused on the baseball cap player, their brows furrowing slightly.
“A member of the Black Magic Society,” someone muttered.
With Red Cloak already making them uneasy, the presence of yet another dangerous figure made this instance even more precarious.
“We’d better be careful. No one wants to end up as a disposable pawn.”
The origami boy sneered and glanced at Zhou Qi’an. “We won’t be the first ones to die.”
As they whispered among themselves, the conjoined old woman finished recording everyone’s choices. She even noted down Minotaur, labeling him as the Building Driver.
“Follow me,” she said with a sinister grin before turning and walking into the Building.
·
Jinxiang Building, radiating an ominous aura, didn’t have a revolving door.
Instead, it had an old-fashioned push-pull door that required considerable force to open.
Upon entering, the first thing they saw was a pond for ornamental koi fish.
There were only two fish inside.
The water hadn’t been changed in who-knew-how-long—it was filthy and reeked of decay.
The moment Zhou Qi’an stepped through the doors, all traces of his earlier frustration disappeared. His expression was calm, his demeanor composed, and he even wore a faint smile.
Loud, overlapping broadcast announcements filled the air, resembling the chaotic noise of an underground marketplace:
“A century-old jewelry brand! Creating a dazzling life!”
Surprisingly, there were quite a few customers shopping for jewelry, and the sales clerks were enthusiastically introducing their products.
A long row of jewelry stores stood beside a supermarket, where many customers could be seen pushing carts. The store’s loudspeakers were enthusiastically broadcasting promotions:
“Supermarket clearance sale!! Seasonal discounts—prices slashed!”
Announcements blared from all directions. Beneath the old, outdated decor, everything exuded a cheap and shabby atmosphere.
Directly ahead was an escalator, with a detailed directory sign listing what was on each floor.
After glancing at the sign, several players’ expressions immediately darkened.
Most of them had been assigned to places on the 4th, 14th, and 18th floors—numbers considered inauspicious.
The college student was one of the unlucky ones. His workplace was on the 4th floor—a very bad omen.
Panicked, he instinctively looked around for Zhou Qi’an.
After searching for a moment, he finally spotted him near the supermarket clearance sale.
The seemingly honest young man had his head lowered, blending into a crowd of elderly shoppers. With quick, practiced movements, he snatched a lighter, slipped it into his pocket, and casually walked out—whistling softly.
The college student swallowed hard.
Their eyes met, and Zhou Qi’an spoke calmly.
“Don’t worry. It’s for lighting.”
The college student let out a sigh of relief.
In their last instance, the monsters were afraid of fire, so arson had been an effective tactic. However, trying the same trick here would be suicide. If he could think of that, the enemies certainly could too.
A few seconds later, his eyes suddenly widened.
Wait a minute—if it was really for lighting, shouldn’t he have stolen a flashlight instead?!
