Lucky Cruise Ship
Chapter 620: Right here, right in front
Looking at the uninvited guest before them, everyone’s expressions were filled with astonishment.
It was actually No. 8.
Before Mesvis died, Wen Jianyan had made a deal with him: they would kill Mesvis, and No. 8 would have to answer one of Wen Jianyan’s questions.
However, due to Dan Zhu’s appearance, they hadn’t even had time to say a single word to No. 8 before they were forced to leave early.
They had thought this agreement would be voided, but they hadn’t expected…
No. 8 would appear again at this moment, bringing with him an incredibly suitable proposal.
“Yes, of course we do.”
Wen Jianyan quickly recovered and replied.
“We need to find the hidden area on this floor. Do you know where it is?” Wen Jianyan took a step forward, staring intently at No. 8 standing behind the counter, waiting for his answer.
“…”
After a brief silence, No. 8, or rather the waiter controlled by No. 8, spoke slowly: “I know.”
“However, I can’t tell you the specific location. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.”
This was a disappointing answer, and everyone’s hearts sank.
Just then, No. 8 spoke again, continuing—
“But, I can take you there.”
“…!” Everyone was stunned, almost unable to believe their ears.
Really…?
No. 8 walked out from behind the counter and turned around: “Follow me.”
The group turned to look at Wen Jianyan, seemingly asking for his opinion.
Wen Jianyan gazed at No. 8’s back. After thinking for a few seconds, he slowly nodded.
This wasn’t just because they didn’t have many options. More importantly, after Mesvis’s death, No. 8 no longer had a direct conflict of interest with them. There was no need for him to seek them out just to deceive them… And based on Wen Jianyan’s understanding of No. 8, he wasn’t someone who would do something like this without reason.
Thus, led by No. 8, the group headed deeper into the Negative 6th Floor.
Perhaps because the instance was nearing its end and the cruise ship was about to capsize, the casino was empty. Not to mention gamblers, there wasn’t even a single NPC. The dead silence and emptiness were unsettling.
The area seemed limited in space, but its actual size was much larger than imagined. Tall obstructions creating countless private spaces and identical-looking objects lay across it, turning the Negative 6th Floor into a giant maze. If someone walked in unprepared, they would easily get lost inside.
“Stay close,” No. 8 said. “Otherwise, don’t blame me for not warning you about what happens next.”
“So,” Wen Jianyan asked while walking forward and looking at No. 8 leading the way, “how did you find us?”
No. 8 didn’t stop walking, just raised a finger pointing into the air.
Everyone looked in the direction he pointed.
In mid-air, cameras with blinking red lights were still operating. The dark lenses seemed to be silently following their figures.
Everyone realized.
Just like in reality, the casino on the cruise ship was densely covered with surveillance cameras.
And the master control screen was located on the second floor of the casino. Even though Mesvis was dead, the surveillance system he left behind was still faithfully operating.
“The surveillance only covers the casino area. I only found you after you returned to the Negative 3rd Floor,” No. 8 said. “However, the woman traveling with you is very dangerous. I couldn’t contact you directly. I only acted after she left just now.”
“That really is troublesome…” Wen Jianyan tilted his head, looking thoughtfully at No. 8’s profile. “But, why?”
Indeed, No. 8’s appearance was like sending charcoal in snowy weather for them.
But for an NPC within an instance, did such an “agreement” really carry enough weight?
They had seen plenty of treacherous NPCs who tried every means to harm people, but this was the first time they had seen one proactively rushing to fulfill an agreement.
“If you hadn’t killed Mesvis, I’m afraid I would have lived in the shadow of his terror forever,” even now, when mentioning that familiar name, No. 8 couldn’t suppress showing some fear, but he quickly controlled his instinctive reaction and calmed down again.
Saying this, No. 8 paused in his steps, turned his head, and let his gaze fall on Blond.
Although Blond’s vision had degraded to almost nothing, he was still very sensitive to others’ gazes. He turned to look back, his pair of grey-white pupils looking particularly ominous under the light.
“Administrator means terror, alienation, and control. As croupiers under them, we are forced by the rules to obey the Administrator’s orders unconditionally… Even if ordered to commit suicide, I must do so. Unless the position remains vacant, we cannot have any will of our own or possibility of free action.”
No. 8 withdrew his gaze and said slowly:
“So, trust me, no one wants to see the birth of a second Mesvis less than I do.”
“…” Wen Jianyan was slightly stunned.
“?!”
Just then, Ma Qi sensed something unknown. She suddenly shivered and jerked her head to look to the left.
In the dim light, only the corner of a bright red gambling table could be seen. Clearly, there was no one in sight, and everything seemed normal, yet there was inexplicably a very ominous, cold atmosphere.
“That, that is…” she stammered.
“I suggest you don’t keep staring over there.”
Noticing her reaction, No. 8 spoke up to stop her.
Ma Qi jolted, quickly withdrawing her gaze, and asked tremblingly, “What’s in there?”
“A gamble,” No. 8 answered concisely.
He gave Ma Qi a cool look. “Every gamble is different. Of course, the price required to pay is also different—and as for the specific content of the gamble, even I am not entirely clear.”
In the casino of the Lucky Cruise Ship, each floor was more dangerous than the last.
The Negative 4th Floor was the “Racecourse,” the Negative 5th Floor was “Monopoly,” and the Negative 6th Floor was the “Private Club.”
Every gamble was custom-made, with different trigger methods. Before starting, no one knew the specific content of the gamble… or the terrifying price that might be paid.
After hearing No. 8’s introduction, everyone felt a chill down their spines.
In such a massive maze, without a guide, those lost inside would easily fall into one deadly crisis after another. Finding the hidden area aside, even getting out alive would be difficult.
“If you want to survive or reach the place you want to go, you’d better follow me closely from now on. Don’t listen, and don’t look.”
No. 8 advised.
Even though there were no signs around, No. 8 was very familiar with everything. Whether moving forward, turning left, or turning right, he didn’t hesitate or pause in the slightest.
Just like that, under his lead, the group went deep into the maze.
As time passed, the air temperature dropped rapidly, and the already dim light became darker and thinner.
Even though they hadn’t encountered any substantial risks, judging by Ma Qi’s increasingly ugly expression… the deeper they went into the maze, the higher the danger level of the gambles encountered.
Finally, after walking for an unknown amount of time, No. 8 stopped.
It was an oil painting taller than a person. However, on this canvas, there was only a bottomless, pitch-black darkness, looking extremely eerie.
“This is it,” No. 8 said.
Wen Jianyan took a step forward and placed his hand on the surface of the canvas—the canvas under his palm was rough and cold, and beneath it was hard and flat, with no hidden door.
“It looks similar in principle to those oil paintings in the auction,” Figaro touched his chin thoughtfully and said. “Based on my experience, such a ‘door’ can be opened using agate stones, it’s just…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but it was enough for others to understand.
Since Mesvis was dead and no one had filled the vacancy, the agate stones had become invalid—this had been verified earlier.
“How do we get in?” Chen Cheng frowned slightly.
“I don’t know,” No. 8 answered quickly. “Ultimately, I’m just a croupier. Bringing you here is already the limit of my ability. As for how to enter, that’s a problem for you to consider.”
Wen Jianyan thoughtfully touched the surface of the canvas, leaned in to sniff it, and seemed to realize something:
“I think I know.”
He turned to look at Blond.
“I think opening this door might require your blood,” Wen Jianyan said.
Blond followed Wen Jianyan’s instructions and cut his finger. As the dark blood seeped into the canvas, the originally pitch-black canvas turned into a lightless hole in the blink of an eye.
As expected.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze darkened slightly.
The first time he encountered an “oil painting” instance wasn’t the Lucky Cruise Ship, but the Prosperous Hotel. In that instance, the element most deeply connected to oil paintings was blood.
And there was one more point validating his guess…
“I just smelled the scent of fresh blood from the canvas… and the scent of rotting flowers,” Wen Jianyan said slowly.
“!” Hearing this, everyone was startled.
This description…
It was Dan Zhu!
To enter the ship’s interior when the tokens were invalid required the Administrator’s blood—now it seemed the blood of a prospective Administrator would also work.
It appeared that Dan Zhu killing Eaton Ethan without any tokens back then might not have been an accident…
Most likely, this had been part of her plan from the very beginning.
And as the person who killed Mesvis, Blond naturally possessed the same authority.
But this brought a new problem.
What about Su Cheng?
He was the first to enter the Negative 6th Floor.
But the problem was, Su Cheng hadn’t killed any Administrator. Theoretically, he shouldn’t be able to enter this door either.
Unless…
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, controlling his wandering thoughts, and refocused his attention on the current situation, continuing logically:
“But this also means Dan Zhu has already entered below ahead of us.”
At this moment, Figaro’s expression became quite colorful.
Others also felt their hearts sink.
If they wanted to get anything from this ship, they had to beat Dan Zhu to completing her plan—otherwise, once the instance reset, all their efforts would be wasted.
“We need to hurry.”
“I can only send you this far,” No. 8 stood motionless not far away, looking at Wen Jianyan and the others in front of the oil painting, and spoke slowly. “You have to walk the rest of the path yourselves.”
“I understand.” Wen Jianyan wasn’t surprised by this.
He nodded: “Regardless, thank you.”
But just as Wen Jianyan turned around and before he could take a step, he was stopped by No. 8 again.
“…By the way.”
“?” Wen Jianyan paused and turned to look at him.
“Regarding your question about why I came back to fulfill the agreement,” No. 8 hesitated, and after a brief struggle, he finally spoke slowly. “Besides the reasons I mentioned, there is one more…”
He stared fixedly at Wen Jianyan, his gaze complex.
“…Thank you for letting me recall my time as a human, at least briefly.”
Fulfilling an agreement with others.
This was something only humans would do.
Even though doing so was meaningless and changed nothing, he couldn’t help but grasp onto this bit of luxurious illusion.
That bit of shattered phantom from the past.
No. 8: “Good luck to you all.”
After speaking, he turned and left.
Watching No. 8’s retreating figure, Wen Jianyan stood still for a moment. He looked down at the agate stone in his palm. The smooth surface shimmered with an ominous red glow under the light. Only now did the sharp pain from gripping it too hard slowly surface, spreading from the center.
He put the agate stone back into his pocket and said, “Let’s go, let’s go in.”
Crawling through the picture frame one by one, what appeared beneath everyone’s feet was a bottomless, narrow staircase.
Just two steps in, Chen Cheng suddenly cried out and jerked back a step: “Damn it!”
“?!” alerted by him, everyone realized that both sides of the narrow staircase were empty. The pebble Chen Cheng just kicked fell down as if into a boundless abyss, making no sound, not even an echo. It seemed to be swallowed by darkness instantly.
“Careful, don’t step into empty air.”
Wen Jianyan was secretly alarmed. He lowered his voice and warned.
Just like that, one after another, the group cautiously descended the stairs.
There was no light in the passage. The narrow staircase was like a black snake lying across the void, extending endlessly downwards, seemingly without end.
Walking on the stairs, everyone soon lost their sense of direction and time.
In the empty darkness, their monotonous, overlapping footsteps echoed.
It was hard for them to determine how far they had walked, and even harder to judge which floor of the cruise ship they were roughly on. They only knew they were going down, down, and further down without stopping.
In the darkness came Ma Qi’s weak voice:
“Guild Leader, I… I don’t feel well.”
Wen Jianyan: “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to describe it…” Ma Qi’s voice was very weak. She seemed conflicted about her current feeling, trying hard to choose her words. “I don’t sense any particularly imminent danger, but with every step deeper, the suffocating feeling pressing on my chest increases a bit—that force is coming from all directions. I can’t find its source, but… it’s terrible, overwhelming.”
But having come this far, there was no turning back.
Wen Jianyan asked: “Can you still hold on?”
“Yeah,” Ma Qi took a deep breath. Even though no one could see in the dark, she habitually nodded vigorously: “No problem.”
Finally, after walking for an unknown amount of time, the stairs finally came to an end.
A cluster of cold crimson light shrouded the end of the stairs, which connected to what seemed to be a long corridor.
“We’re here.”
Wen Jianyan’s voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something in this dead silence.
He turned to look inside the corridor.
Just a simple glance made his heart sink.
The floor, walls, ceiling… all looked as bright red as if soaked in blood.
Like the stairs, the corridor was bottomless. Although there were no doors on the walls on either side, densely packed forks extended out like unpruned branches. Each fork led to different forks, like countless blood vessels connecting to the heart chambers. Just looking at it made one dizzy.
Finding the path to the core in such a space would likely be quite difficult.
Finally stepping onto solid ground, the fear of stepping into empty air on the stairs dissipated.
Everyone involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief.
Just as she steadied herself, Ma Qi’s legs suddenly gave way. Fortunately, Wen Ya, who was close beside her, was quick to support her.
Wen Jianyan was stunned: “What’s happening?”
Unknowingly, Ma Qi’s face had become shockingly ugly. Her lips had no blood, even turning blue and purple. Her forehead was covered in cold sweat, looking as if she had reached her limit.
“This place… is very… wrong.”
Ma Qi’s lips trembled as she gritted her teeth.
“Bad, very bad, very very bad…”
Although Ma Qi didn’t have as much dungeon experience as Wen Jianyan, as a veteran anchor, she had experienced life-and-death situations more than once. But this was the first time she had been oppressed to the point where even walking was difficult.
The high-density dangerous aura filling the air was tantamount to being in poison gas for a sensitive medium like her. Every sense, every cell in her body was screaming hysterically:
Run! Run! Run!
“But don’t worry,” Ma Qi gritted her teeth and stood up. “I have items… that can suppress and lower my sensitivity state… don’t worry.”
Wen Jianyan frowned deeply:
“You…”
Before he could finish, Chen Cheng’s pupils suddenly contracted sharply. His gaze fixed dead on Wen Jianyan:
“Beside you—!”
Unnoticed, a strange black shadow had appeared beside him. The shadow followed him silently, its aura cold and terrifying.
In just a second, everyone immediately entered a panicked combat state. Their bodies tensed like bowstrings, ready to counterattack any danger—
Wen Jianyan also felt his hair stand on end instantly.
However, his gaze swept to his side, and he suddenly realized the source of everyone’s alarm.
Wen Jianyan hurriedly took a step forward: “Wait—calm down, everyone calm down!”
“No danger,” Wen Jianyan paused, “It’s a friend.”
Amid the chaos, by the dim light, everyone finally saw clearly that the one following Wen Jianyan was actually the non-human ally he had introduced earlier.
“When did he start following us,” Chen Cheng dropped his hand, the blade emerging in his palm disappearing back into the air. He let out a long breath and frowned, “Damn, scared me.”
…From the beginning.
Wen Jianyan muttered vaguely: “Anyway, his goal is the same as ours. Nothing else matters.”
However…
Wen Jianyan turned his head, his gaze landing on Wu Zhu, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
He didn’t understand why Wu Zhu showed himself at this time.
For him, remaining hidden should be the most convenient option.
Was it voluntary, or…
Forced?
Wu Zhu’s attention, however, wasn’t on “almost being besieged just now.” He tilted his head, seemingly attracted by something deep in the corridor, staring deeply into its depths. Only after a long time did he withdraw his gaze, look at Wen Jianyan, and say:
“It’s here.”
“Just ahead.”
Others might not know what Wu Zhu was talking about, but Wen Jianyan knew clearly.
Due to the special nature of the Lucky Cruise Ship instance, Wu Zhu could only determine whether his heart was on the current floor, not exactly where it was. From the Negative 1st Floor to the Negative 18th Floor, all the answers Wu Zhu gave were “not here”—until now.
In a map with such a complex structure, how rare it was to have someone who could sense the specific location of the core.
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and looked at Wu Zhu: “In that case, you lead the way.”
Wu Zhu nodded: “Okay.”
After Ma Qi used her item and barely adjusted her state, the group stepped forward again, heading toward the depths of the core.
The dark red corridor before them extended endlessly, carrying an unspeakable oppressive atmosphere.
“…”
Wen Jianyan felt fine sweat seeping from his palms and involuntarily took a deep breath.
He knew that what he had always wanted to understand was likely just ahead, but his heart felt increasingly uneasy and restless because of it—everything was in chaos. Su Cheng’s goal, Yang Fan’s situation, Dan Zhu’s plan, Wu Zhu’s heart, the end of the cruise ship’s course… countless unpredictable, uncontrollable things twisted into restless lines, tangling messily together, generating an overwhelming sense of crisis.
It seemed… at the end of that unknown corridor, fate had bared its claws and fangs, waiting in the darkness for them to deliver themselves.
“What are you thinking?”
Wu Zhu suddenly stopped and turned to look at him.
Wen Jianyan was stunned, not expecting the other to be so keenly aware of his emotional changes. “…No, nothing.”
But in the blink of an eye, he recovered his usual composure.
Wen Jianyan shook his head and said, “Just a little nervous. Let’s keep moving—”
The word “forward” was swallowed before it could be spoken.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze unconsciously fell on the wall. He seemed to have discovered something, frowning slightly.
Wait a minute…
Wen Jianyan took a step forward, leaning close to the wall to examine it carefully under the weak light.
Only then did he realize that the wall structure here was very strange. It wasn’t smooth cement or steel, but… composed of densely packed tiny pipes?!
Where did these pipes come from? And where did they lead?
Wen Jianyan searched his mind.
In the [Lucky Cruise Ship] instance, “pipes” had only appeared in two areas.
One was the Mint, where the chips were minted using the corpses of “horses” from the racecourse. Both the starting point and the endpoint of the pipes were clear.
And the other…
Was the Toy Factory.
In all Toy Factories, there were huge production lines. At the end of the conveyor belt, connected to a funnel-shaped container, was a long, thin blood-red pipe above the funnel, extending to an unknown destination.
“…”
Wen Jianyan heard his heart start to pound.
Could it be…
This place was exactly where the Toy Factory pipes originated?
