Chapter 636: Glass candy wrapper
The sounds of cursing and beating, mingled with children’s cries, echoed in the vast room.
Aside from that, there was no other sound.
All the orphans quietly curled up under their sheets, not making a peep. Only the slight rise and fall of their bodies with their breathing could be seen, as if everyone had fallen into a deep sleep together.
In the darkness.
Orange Candy’s eyes flashed coldly, staring unblinkingly in the direction of the sound, not missing a single detail.
Her muscles tensed bit by bit, like a bowstring ready to fire.
Suddenly, a rumbling, muffled sound seemed to come from deep underground. The entire building began to tremble as if the whole world was being squeezed and shaken.
Orange Candy was startled and instinctively looked up.
There was movement from the other beds nearby as well. The anchors poked their heads out from under the covers, looking around in astonishment.
However, apart from these anchors, no NPC seemed to sense anything unusual—neither the orphans lying in bed nor the Momma standing in the aisle noticed it, as if nothing had happened.
This kind of tremor wasn’t unprecedented; accurately speaking, it happened at the end of every loop. So, they now regarded it as a symbol of the end of one loop and the beginning of the next.
But it clearly wasn’t the fifth day yet!
In just that brief moment of distraction, the violence not far away had ended. The child was dragged out of the door by the Momma, holding his arm.
His head drooped motionless, like a thin piece of cloth.
With heavy footsteps, the last Momma also left the dormitory.
The entire room fell into silence once again.
“Why did the earthquake come so early this time?” Zhao Ran asked in a hushed voice from the small bed next to her.
“I don’t know.” Wei Cheng shook his head, his expression grave.
What was stranger was that although the earthquake came early, this loop didn’t show signs of ending early. At least they didn’t open their eyes to find themselves back on the first day of arrival.
“But this at least shows that our current direction is correct,” Wei Cheng turned to look at Orange Candy, letting out a long sigh of relief. “Captain, it’s good you held back just now and didn’t actually do anything. I have to admit, for a moment, I was really worried you would—”
Before he could finish, he saw Orange Candy suddenly lift the quilt and slide off the bed quickly and quietly.
In the blink of an eye, her figure vanished into the darkness.
“…be impulsive.”
Wei Cheng dumbly finished the last two words.
“I knew it.” On the other small bed, Zhao Ran shook his head, sighing like a little adult, and pulled the sheet up to his neck. “Compared to stopping the Captain, I’d rather wrestle a bull.”
He closed his eyes: “So stop thinking about it, let her go.”
It is best not to move around in the orphanage after lights out.
This was one of the iron rules.
Old-fashioned light bulbs sizzled and flickered overhead, casting weak, dim light that divided the ground into realms of light and shadow.
Mommas patrolled in the light, while monsters spawned in the darkness.
So, unless absolutely necessary, no one wanted to move after lights out.
Orange Candy moved swiftly through the dark.
Small in stature, her movements were rapid and agile. Like a shadow born of darkness, she silently glided past corners, bypassing all enemy eyes and ears.
A pitch-black hand grabbed her shoulder. However, the second she was caught, Orange Candy spun and pressed down with terrifying agility. Like a swift cat, in the blink of an eye, she was already standing on the opponent’s shoulders. Her hands twisted both sides of that black face, exerting force in opposite directions—with a crack, the monster below collapsed like soft mud, flowing into the darkness beneath her feet.
Orange Candy landed lightly, unharmed. Even so, she didn’t dare linger.
She knew she hadn’t “killed” the monster; it had merely lost its support temporarily. Although it had vanished now, it would soon make a comeback.
To kill them would require paying a greater price and using more items, but she didn’t have that much time now.
Orange Candy continued forward.
She had never been locked in the dog cage, nor had any members of her squad—after all, they were astute and experienced enough—but other anchors had been. Although she didn’t care about the lives of anyone outside her squad, she still knew where the dog cage was located.
Rumble!
The ground began to tremble again.
Orange Candy frowned, paused for a moment, then quickened her pace.
The further forward she went, the thicker the darkness and the colder it became. This area was not one they could freely access; because it was too dangerous, anchors rarely approached it voluntarily.
Orange Candy turned right at the end of the corridor, and an inconspicuous small black door appeared before her.
This was the “dog cage.”
Orange Candy looked up.
There were no signs or text on the door, only spots of brown rust.
The door was tightly shut, seeming to contain some terrifying dread. Just standing there quietly made one shudder.
The “dog cage” was a very special place.
It wouldn’t kill anyone; its purpose was simple:
—Torture.
Psychologically and physiologically, to create the maximum amount of pain.
Therefore, it would manifest what a person feared most.
Because of this, even though every anchor knew entering the “dog cage” wouldn’t result in death, they still turned pale at the mention of it, preferring to do chores obediently rather than be thrown inside.
The longest record for an anchor being locked up was three hours.
Not long after that guy was dragged out, he went mad and even tried to attack her. So, Orange Candy charitably snapped his neck, giving him a clean death.
Since the orphans were as afraid of this place as they were, the principle of the “dog cage” should work on them too.
But Orange Candy knew clearly that Wen Jianyan wasn’t a brave person—and even after growing up, he hadn’t improved much.
There were too many things this guy was afraid of.
All kinds of ghosts, all kinds of monsters…
Orange Candy once even saw him get scared by a slightly larger bug—of course, she rolled her eyes at the time and crushed the bug directly.
Basically, as long as it existed in an instance, there wasn’t anything he didn’t fear.
If Wen Jianyan’s fears were manifested, this room would probably be stuffed full of various bizarre monsters.
Just thinking about that scene gave Orange Candy a bit of a headache.
I should have dragged a few more people along.
If there were too many, she feared she couldn’t handle them alone…
Orange Candy sighed, lowered her eyes, and looked at the gap under the door.
There were drag marks of blood on the ground extending straight into the door, not yet dry, clearly freshly left.
“…”
Orange Candy’s eyelid twitched.
Damn it.
She mumbled a curse.
Taking a slow, deep breath, she quietly stepped forward and raised her hand to push the door open.
Every muscle in her body tensed in that instant; every cell prepared for combat.
It was unexpectedly quiet inside.
There was only darkness so thick it was impenetrable.
…Strange.
Orange Candy walked in cautiously, step by step. The smell of blood grew stronger. Even with her phone’s flashlight on, the weak beam couldn’t fend off the overwhelming darkness, barely illuminating the space a few steps ahead.
Soon, she reached the center of the room.
Appearing before her was a very narrow iron cage. Even a thin, small child could only stay inside in the most uncomfortable way—unable to stand, sit up, or lie flat.
The iron cage was crooked and very rough. Sharp wires stuck out like thorns all over the cage body.
And in the center of the iron cage, a small, pitch-black figure was curled up.
The child’s head hung low, knees pressed against his chest. His hair was matted into clumps by blood and dust. His small, thin shoulders were hunched, his breathing so faint it was almost invisible.
“Hey…!” Orange Candy squatted by the cage and called out several times. “Hey, hey, brat!”
After being called seven or eight times, the other finally moved sluggishly.
“…319?”
The child’s hoarse voice came from the darkness, sounding very confused. “Why are you here?”
Orange Candy then remembered her number was 319. She nodded perfunctorily: “Yeah, it’s me.”
She peered at the child’s curled-up body in the narrow space and the rough iron spikes deeply embedded in his calf below; her brow immediately furrowed tight.
“Wait, I’ll get you out right now.”
In the darkness, one of the child’s eyes was stuck shut with blood, leaving only the other wide open. He whispered like he was sleep-talking: “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Nonsense, that’s because I’m smart enough never to get locked in this lousy place,” Orange Candy rolled her eyes theatrically in the dark while trying to dismantle the cage. “I sneaked in after you.”
“You… sneaked out of bed?” After a brief daze, Little Wen Jianyan raised his head, glanced at the iron door left ajar, and then finally seemed to react.
He hurriedly stopped Orange Candy’s actions:
“Don’t, don’t, absolutely don’t.”
Orange Candy paused.
“If they find out I sneaked out of the dog cage, I won’t be able to leave here next week!” Little Wen Jianyan’s voice regained some life, becoming exactly the same as in her memory. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep here for a night and get out tomorrow.”
“…”
Through the dense wire mesh, Orange Candy gazed at the small, curled-up body.
Her voice was a bit low.
“So just now, why didn’t you rat me out?”
“Because there was no need,” Little Wen Jianyan whispered. “Don’t worry, I can tell the difference between probing and interrogation—Momma wasn’t that sure someone had been let in. She’s just naturally suspicious. If I didn’t say anything, it’s just the dog cage. If I admitted it, I’d be beaten half to death.”
“Besides, I’m not a snitch; I’m a good boss.”
He moved slightly in the cage.
“How about it, interested now?”
Orange Candy was stunned. She realized this guy was still thinking about making her acknowledge him as boss. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Absolutely not!”
“Alright…” The other pretended to sigh. “Your loss.”
After confirming there really seemed to be no danger in the room, Orange Candy sat cross-legged on the damp, cold floor.
Staring at the little guy lying in the dog cage, she hesitated, seemingly struggling with some emotion: “You…”
“Are… are your injuries bad?”
“Don’t worry, not bad at all!”
Little Wen Jianyan’s voice was still full of vitality, if one ignored the small coughs occasionally choked out by blood foam.
“Who here hasn’t been beaten a few times? We’re used to it. Just bend your waist when the kick comes, and you can easily avoid vital spots. Then scream louder and more miserably, and Momma will stop. When I get out, I can teach you some little tricks so it won’t hurt when you get beaten.”
“…”
Orange Candy’s breath hitched.
Although all instances exaggerated and recreated based on original reality, adding various levels, monsters, death methods… this instance focused more on weakening the anchors’ abilities rather than amplifying the horror. This meant the proportion of recreation here wasn’t too large.
Through the curtain of the instance, she glimpsed Pinocchio’s true past.
…Damn it.
Orange Candy felt rare distress.
“Hey,” the child’s quiet inquiry came from the darkness. “Are you okay?”
“Mn.” Orange Candy rubbed her eyes and replied in a stiff tone. “Of course. I wasn’t the one beaten; I’m doing fantastic.”
Perhaps because everyone in this instance was a child, their psychology and physiology had shrunk together.
So embarrassing.
Rustling sounds came from the darkness.
“Here.”
A skinny, bloodstained small hand extended from the gap in the cage, leaving a piece of glass candy wrapper.
Orange Candy froze, recognizing at a glance that it was one of the treasures from Wen Jianyan’s box. “This… when did you get this?”
“After you knocked the stuff over, I secretly hid it. Your subordinates are all very careless; none of them noticed my movements,” the voice in the darkness sounded smug. “See, nimble hands and feet, right?”
Under the faint light, the glass candy wrapper refracted colorful luster.
The child curled in the cage whispered:
“Okay, I’m giving this to you. Don’t be sad.”
‘a slightly larger bug’ 😭