Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 382.1: [Instance error!]
The multi-day long Xingwang Hotel instance had finally come to an end.
In the livestream lobby, the results of the confrontation between both sides were now prominently displayed at the very top.
A massive black banner floated in midair. Though there was no wind, it flapped violently. On the enormous screen overhead were the portraits of Gentleman and Anise.
Below them were crimson letters:
[WINNER!]
The livestream room exploded with excitement. Viewer numbers surged to their highest since the start of the broadcast, skyrocketing in a short time to the top of the livestream plaza rankings. Whether new or old, familiar or unfamiliar, the viewers poured in like sharks drawn to the scent of blood.
[The black team won!!!]
[Yesss!!!]
[Hahahahaha I knew it! As expected of Anise!]
[Old players are still the best. Even though the opposing side seemed strong at first, when it came to the real fight, it had to be the veterans.]
[Hahaha exactly, and the opposing team even picked Bai Xue as a teammate…]
[Damn, that jinx? No wonder they lost.]
[Even without the jinx, they wouldn’t have won. This is Gentleman and Anise we’re talking about—how do you lose with that combo?]
[I’ve thought this for a while now, that so-called rookie anchor is all hype and no substance. I’ve been annoyed with him forever. Now watching him crash and burn, getting crushed by true veterans—it’s honestly satisfying, hehe.]
[? What are you even talking about? Did you actually watch the stream? Do you even know how your anchor won in the end?]
[Yeah, if he didn’t play dirty at the last second, there’s no way he would’ve won. Have some shame, maybe?]
[What BS are you spouting…? Is this your first time watching a Nightmare stream? What’s wrong with playing dirty? In a showdown match, that’s part of the game.]
[LMAO, no matter what you say, your anchor lost, didn’t he? The countdown’s already started.]
The bullet chat was on fire.
Supporters of Wen Jianyan and those of Gentleman & Anise were clashing in a chaotic mess.
Some were wailing and heartbroken.
[Wuwuwu can Nightmare please make an exception this time? Don’t shut down the stream just because he lost. I haven’t had enough!]
Others were gloating, full of mockery:
[Still acting tough after losing? Making excuses now? If you’re not capable, just quit. Die early and reincarnate. Stop wasting stream resources.]
Whether it was viewership or donations from both sides, everything soared during this heated war of words.
Just as the argument was at its peak, a single bullet chat suddenly popped up and caught everyone’s attention:
[Wait a minute… is it just me, or does the red team’s stream not look like it’s about to give up?]
[Hm? What do you mean?]
[I mean… they still seem to be doing something!]
The cold countdown echoed in the nearly-closed instance.
In the dim red hallway, Wen Jianyan was sprinting forward.
A group of confused people followed behind him. Their hurried, chaotic footsteps echoed in the narrow and deathly silent space.
A new wave of viewers flooded into the “Integrity First” live stream.
[?]
[??]
[Has the anchor lost it? What is he even doing?]
[Didn’t they just announce the result?]
[Yeah… the countdown’s started. He doesn’t seriously think he can pull off a comeback, right? He looks kinda mentally unwell…]
[Where… is he even going?!]
Beside him, Blond was panting heavily.
Like everyone else, he was completely in the dark and had no idea what was going on.
[30, 29, 28…]
The countdown continued.
Wen Jianyan ignored it, moving purposefully through the corridor.
He seemed to know exactly where he was going, taking turns with practiced ease and without hesitation.
Just then, a familiar system voice sounded in Wen Jianyan’s ear:
“Ding! anchor has failed the position swap challenge. The stream will now close. However, due to your excellent achievements, the system is offering a one-time revival opportunity—”
This message wasn’t hidden from the viewers, but played directly in the “Integrity First” stream room. The audience was stunned at first, then exploded:
[OOOHHHHH!!]
[AAAAAHHH I KNEW IT!]
[The anchor’s done so well since debut—breaking so many records—Nightmare would be stupid to shut him down over one failure.]
[Exactly! And it’s not like this hasn’t happened before—remember that top 10 guy? Though the conditions were brutal…]
[Tough conditions are fine! As long as the stream isn’t shut down!]
The mechanical voice continued:
“—Please re-sign the contract with the broad—”
“Decline.”
Wen Jianyan said.
He didn’t hesitate.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[……]
[…………]
The bullet chat, which had been flying at full speed, froze.
Then, after a moment of stunned silence, even more comments surged forward, flooding the screen:
[Huh?]
[Ah???]
[Does the anchor know what he just said???]
[I’m speechless. Is he trying to die? This is literally suicide!]
The countdown continued.
[19, 18, 17…]
Only a few seconds remained before the instance ended completely.
[16, 15——]
[1111111444444——]
For some unknown reason, the previously stable electronic countdown suddenly glitched, stuttering like it was being interfered with by some unknown force—repeating in a strange, monotone loop.
“?!”
Everyone was startled and instinctively looked up and around.
“C-Captain,”
Chen Mo’s breath was ragged as he lowered his voice and asked,
“What the hell is going on?”
“Haha.” Wen Jianyan let out a soft laugh.
It started low and quiet, then gradually grew louder and more joyful:
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Was he… going mad?
Everyone was alarmed by his overly abnormal reaction and involuntarily stopped in their tracks, trying to keep their distance.
Wen Jianyan cleared his throat, one hand against the wall as he restrained his laughter. But the smile on his lips remained as he turned to the others in the red team:
“It’s time for us to part ways.”
“……”
Xi Zi stared at him in alarm and suspicion, clearly assessing his mental state.
“Remember, from here on, leave this place as quickly as you can,” Wen Jianyan said with a smile. His tone was light, but the words he spoke were chilling:
“Otherwise… you’ll really die.”
“?!”
Wait a minute… from here on?
There’s still more to this instance?
Wasn’t it already over?
But…
Thinking back to that strange glitch in the countdown just now, everything suddenly seemed uncertain again.
Everyone was shocked. They quickly exchanged glances, seeing the same hesitant disbelief in each other’s eyes.
But before they could ask anything, Wen Jianyan had already turned and beckoned to his own team, heading into one of the side corridors.
The group’s eyes fell on their own captain.
“……”
Xi Zi hesitated for a moment, then made up her mind:
“Let’s go.”
Following Wen Jianyan’s advice, they ran toward the hotel exit along the path they remembered.
Wen Jianyan, on the other hand, took a different route.
“W-What’s going on?”
The strong sense of confusion kept growing. Blond couldn’t help asking again.
Chen Mo glanced over at Wen Jianyan, narrowing his eyes:
“What exactly do you know?”
“Mmm”, Wen Jianyan blinked. Although his voice sounded casual and relaxed, his footsteps never stopped.
“Where should I start?”
“First of all, you might still remember that instance we went through before—Fantasy Amusement Park, right?”
Wen Jianyan turned his head and glanced at Yun Bilan beside him.
Yun Bilan, who hadn’t spoken since the beginning, hesitated for a moment before nodding.
“Do you remember my final conclusion?”
“That it was a human processing factory created by some higher-dimensional being,” Yun Bilan quickly answered.
Blond, who had also experienced that instance and participated in the next one alongside Wen Jianyan, was taken aback.
“Wait, I remember Ping An asylum seemed to be something similar?”
The essence of Ping An asylum was a god-making experiment field created by a higher-dimensional entity, aimed at producing a true deity.
Blond gasped sharply, eyes widening in disbelief as he turned to Wen Jianyan.
“You mean…?”
“That’s right.”
Wen Jianyan nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
Fantasy Amusement Park, Ping An asylum, Xingwang Hotel—they’re essentially the same.
All are twisted creations produced by the same higher-dimensional existence.
A grotesque, massive being composed of sticky flesh and cracked eyeballs.
“It twists a person’s mind through the form of ‘dreams,’ manipulates their actions, and only then does the ‘hotel’ invade the human world.”
“The diary’s owner, right?” Chen Mo asked.
Wen Jianyan: “Correct.”
From the chaotic and insane ramblings in that diary, you could clearly see how an ordinary human was invaded, controlled, and twisted.
Even after realizing everything she had done, she couldn’t bear it and committed suicide by jumping into a well—but it still didn’t stop anything.
The entity that had been “implanted” into her consciousness continued to use her corpse and image to operate within the entire instance, invisibly interfering with—and even controlling—everything.
“……”
After hearing Wen Jianyan’s confirmation, everyone shuddered.
Although they had always known each instance was derived from the real world and had mysterious connections to each other, this was the first time they clearly saw the thread linking them all together—realizing that behind each instance, there lurked a massive, terrifying being…
The eerie, oppressed feeling—as if being watched from above—made their stomachs churn reflexively.
Chen Mo frowned.
“Wait a second… then what does that have to do with the anomaly in the current instance?”
Even though Wen Jianyan’s explanation had revealed part of the underlying structure, they still had no clue what Wen Jianyan had done, or how everything had progressed to this point.
Zzzzz…
Suddenly, a strange, wet, sticky sound echoed in their ears—extraordinarily abrupt in the deathly silent corridor.
Everyone’s hearts skipped a beat, and they instinctively turned to look.
The wallpaper on the walls began to curl at the edges, wrinkling. The bland and eerie patterns began to twist, like they were slowly melting…
Being replaced by flesh-like textures.
Soon, the dark red wallpaper completely vanished, replaced by thick, sticky flesh. Muscles and sinews squeezed together, pulsating and writhing in a grotesque dance, as if they were alive. Massive gaps tore open between the flesh, revealing numerous bloodshot eyeballs spinning wildly inside.
“?!!!”
Everyone jolted in horror, faces turning pale. A powerful chill crawled up their spines.
This… this is…
“That’s right. This is the true form of Xingwang Hotel,” Wen Jianyan said quickly. “Come on, we’re running out of time!”
He broke into a run.
The others reacted immediately, hurrying after him.
“Where are we going?” Blond panted.
Why had Wen Jianyan seemed like he was headed somewhere since the very beginning?
“We’re almost there!”
Wen Jianyan replied while turning sharply at a corner, stopping in front of a door.
He raised his knuckles and knocked rhythmically.
Everyone stared blankly, bewildered.
Then, under everyone’s stunned gaze, the door opened instantly from the inside, as if the person inside had been waiting.
“You’re finally here!”
A stranger—an unfamiliar anchor—rushed out. There was still some dirt on his face that hadn’t been completely wiped off, and he stared in terror at the fleshy wall. He could barely speak clearly.
“Th-this… what the hell is going on now?”
“This guy…”
Chen Mo’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the chest badge on the newcomer.
He’s with the Black Team?
Why is a Black Team anchor hiding here… and he seems familiar with their captain?!
A few minutes earlier—
After obtaining the key item from the Red Team, Gentleman and his team quickly left the area. Although the instance was almost over, they didn’t trust the Red Team and were worried they might have hidden tricks. So, after confirming the item was genuine, they fled at top speed.
But soon…
“We’re being followed,” Anise said, voice tight.
“What?” The gentleman turned his head sharply.
Sure enough, thick darkness followed closely behind, accompanied by faint footsteps—relentless and in pursuit.
He seemed to realize something and looked down at the small box in his hand.
Of course. The ghosts weren’t chasing them—they were after the item in his hand. That’s why they ignored the nearby Red Team and went after them instead.
Back in the banquet hall, the white-clothed female ghost seemed to constantly target the Red Team… it must’ve been because they were carrying the item at the time.
Although he was in danger, Gentleman let out a breath of relief.
He had already used every available method to confirm the item Wen Jianyan gave him was real—but deep down, he still had doubts.
Now, the ghosts’ pursuit confirmed it.
He looked over at Anise. “You’re up.”
The item was in their hands, but activating it fully still required time and specific steps. To prevent any interruption, they needed to rely on Anise’s talent.
“…Alright.”
Anise gritted his teeth. Behind his mask, his face turned deathly pale, like a corpse. Rotted spots bloomed on his skin. His thin limbs shriveled like all moisture had been drained—just like a mummified corpse.
High-tier anchors could use their talents more frequently in a single instance, but even so, it wasn’t limitless.
In fact, during the last round of “service,” he had already pushed himself to the brink.
After all, with so many ghosts around, if he hadn’t gone that far, they wouldn’t have been able to capture all the Red Team members alive and bring them back to the lobby.
Now, Anise was truly at his limit.
But this was the final stretch.
He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes.
Behind them, the footsteps in the darkness slowed—their advance faltering.
“Hurry!”
Anise’s voice rasped from deep in his throat.
The gentleman opened the box and took out a bead.
It lay in his palm, radiating a chilling aura. Inside, countless shadowy forms squirmed, like merging and dissolving faces.
“Where’s the rest?” The gentleman shouted.
The other anchors quickly stepped forward and handed him the prepared ritual items:
A rusted bronze plate and red candles.
The gentleman placed the bead in the center of the bronze plate on the ground, lit the candles, and arranged them around it.
He patted Anise on the shoulder.
“It’s done.”
The moment his words fell, Anise stopped using his ability. They all quickly retreated.
Darkness surged forward, footsteps closing in.
Very soon, it engulfed the bronze plate and the eerie red glow of the candles.
Then, in that moment—all sound vanished.
The darkness stopped advancing.
An oppressive silence blanketed everything.
Everyone instinctively held their breath.
Then—
[Ding! Congratulations to the Black Team anchors for completing the instance’s main task. Xingwang Hotel’s story progression reached 100%! Victory awarded in this team-vs-team instance!]
[Black Team anchors successfully completed the challenge. All live broadcast rewards will be distributed to them!]
As the mechanical system voice echoed, the darkness began to fade. The massive banquet hall slowly reappeared, brightly lit, the long table empty.
The ghosts, the hotel manager from behind the counter—gone without a trace.
Instance shutting down…
Everyone let out a long sigh of relief. The tension that had been stretched tight for so long finally released.
It was over.
They had won.
Even Gentleman and Anise felt a wave of unprecedented relief. They took off their masks and smiled.
See?
In the end, victory was still theirs.
The countdown continued in their ears.
As the darkness faded, they saw the Red Team fleeing from the banquet hall.
They sneered.
Seriously? Did that team think they’d still fight after the instance ended? Not that they couldn’t… but after such a long, exhausting instance, none of them had the energy to cause more trouble.
They started waiting leisurely for the countdown to finish.
Some even opened their live-stream interfaces, interacting with their audiences, accepting donations, and mocking the Red Team to stir up flame wars.
[30, 29, 28…]
“It’s over.”
Gentleman stood, stretching his stiff shoulders. His ever-present smile remained.
“Good job, everyone. Once we’re back in the anchor hub, your next three days of Oracle expenses are on me.”
“Yeah!!”
“Oracle’s the best!”
The group cheered joyfully.
[16, 15—]
The countdown continued… and then—
It glitched.
[1111111444444——]
“???”
The bizarre, repetitive, unnerving countdown tone left the Black Team anchors stunned.
They stared at one another in shock.
Wait a minute, what the hell is going on?
The countdown disappeared.
In the vast hall, the black team anchors looked at one another, seeing the same confusion and shock reflected in each other’s faces.
What on earth had just happened???
In the black team’s live stream rooms, rows upon rows of question marks flew across the barrage.
[?]
[???]
[What the hell just happened?]
Some were bewildered, some doubtful, and others were furiously cursing the Nightmare System.
The Gentleman’s expression gradually darkened. He opened his own live stream and scanned the rapidly scrolling comments on the screen, seemingly searching for a clue.
Suddenly, one of the anchors in the distance shouted:
“C-Captain, come look at this!!!”
The Gentleman was startled and looked up.
One of their teammates was standing still, his face pale as he stared at something on the floor.
A copper plate. A candle.
“……”
In that instant, a foreboding feeling surged in the Gentleman’s chest.
He strode forward quickly.
Following the teammate’s gaze, he looked down.
A round sphere lay in the center of the rusted copper plate. Under the dim light, it gave off an eerie… pink hue???
The gentleman’s face turned even darker; even the faint smile he had worn earlier could no longer be maintained.
He squatted down and slowly picked up the orb from the tray.
It was light, cold, and smooth. As it warmed in his palm, it began to emit a sticky, sugary scent.
It was candy.
Strawberry-flavored.
Fight fight 💪💪
The gentleman deserved to be face slapped with a strawberry flavoured candy 😂