Chapter 639: Nightmare’s Agent
On the other side.
The light in the corridor was dim, the walls dilapidated, and dust covered everything. Looking around, there were no traces of human life, as if it had been abandoned for at least ten or twenty years.
The only light here came from Bai Xue’s phone.
He lowered his head, his slender fingers dancing on the screen, quickly editing the message Wen Jianyan had just dictated.
After finishing, Bai Xue raised his head, looked at Wen Jianyan not far away, and said in his usual flat tone:
“Anything else to add?”
Wen Jianyan stood with his back against the wall. His face looked somewhat pale in the shadows, devoid of expression, seemingly immersed in his own thoughts, appearing somewhat distant.
It wasn’t until Bai Xue spoke that he seemed to be called back from his reverie, looking up.
“…No more.”
He shook his head.
“In that case, what are we waiting for now?”
Chen Cheng turned to glance in the direction they came from—the lockless door was half open, behind which lay bottomless darkness. A chilly wind occasionally drilled through the crack, seemingly conveying some ominous message.
While standing restlessly on guard, he asked somewhat irritably:
“Waiting for those things to catch up?”
Although they temporarily escaped the pursuit of the “passengers,” since they could follow them all the way from the station to here, chasing them from the first floor to the second was probably just a matter of time.
As long as the rules were still in effect, they wouldn’t stop.
And for this kind of “thing,” spatial distance meant nothing.
To end all this, there was only one way:
Give them what they wanted.
But the problem was, according to the rules of the “Changsheng Building” instance, what these “passengers” wanted to buy were human parts, which they couldn’t give no matter what.
“Yes, you’re right,” Wen Jianyan stood up. “We should go.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said:
“Although we don’t have much lamp oil left, the good news is, according to Bai Xue’s description, there won’t be other dangers here. So we can focus on dealing with these ‘passengers’ and wait for Orange Candy to clear the instance on her side.”
“Okay,” Wen Ya hesitated for a moment but finally voiced the question in her heart. “However, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask just now. Guild Leader, you seem… not unfamiliar with this place?”
This was actually putting it mildly.
The light in this building was dim, the terrain complex, with broken wood and furniture fragments scattered on the floor. No matter which direction, it was almost the same scene of decay, hard to distinguish.
But walking here, Wen Jianyan seemed to know exactly where he was. He would occasionally stop at a corner, then immediately know which way to turn, as if… he had memorized the map here by heart.
Not to mention the things he said to Orange Candy…
Whether it was hidden doors, secret passages, or the understanding of NPCs, clearly none could be derived from mere reasoning.
Ma Qi tilted her head and speculated: “Could it be that the Guild Leader has been to this instance before?”
“…”
Wen Jianyan’s pace paused slightly.
He didn’t look back, just answering in an ordinary tone, “Hmm, pretty much.”
Pretty much?
Hearing this, everyone was stunned.
What kind of answer was this?
Before they could figure it out, they heard the other continue:
“To be precise… I lived here when I was a child.”
“—!”
A light sentence fell into everyone’s ears, yet it was like a thunderclap on flat ground. Everyone was severely shocked. They widened their eyes, abruptly turning their heads to look at Wen Jianyan:
“What?!”
“Just literally—I was an orphan in this orphanage,” Wen Jianyan thought for a moment and added, “But of course, I escaped later.”
“Escaped…?” Wen Ya hadn’t recovered from the shock, murmuring repeatedly.
Wen Jianyan answered lightly as ever: “Yeah.”
“After all, the environment here wasn’t very good. Orange Candy will tell you when she gets out… judging from our previous conversation, she clearly has a lot of complaints about it.”
He turned to glance at Wen Ya, a hint of a smile in his eyes:
“You know me; I can’t stand suffering.”
Chen Mo suddenly reacted, frowning. “Wait a minute, then your previous conversation with Orange Candy, were you telling her to find your childhood self?”
His frown deepened. “But how is this possible?”
All instances were formed based on specific events, and those remaining as NPCs were basically the deceased involved in the event—or unlucky ones who died accidentally while clearing the instance.
“I can’t figure it out either,” Wen Jianyan shrugged. “I know as much as you do about this matter.”
“In that case, do you know why this place became an instance?” Chen Mo pressed. “Does it have anything to do with your escape?”
“…”
Wen Jianyan paused, then said slowly: “Maybe, but I’m not sure.”
Everyone was stunned.
“Because in my impression, Nightmare had nothing to do with this,” Wen Jianyan raised his hand, pinching his brow, leaving two crescent-like red marks on his skin with uncontrollable force. “But now… I don’t trust my memory that much anymore.”
“?”
Silence fell momentarily.
Everyone looked at each other, their expressions puzzled and blank.
“What does that mean?” Blond asked in confusion.
Wen Jianyan didn’t answer directly but thought for a moment and said, “Remember Ji Guan?”
“I first met him in the Fukang Hospital instance. He had a strong reaction on the bus to the instance, which is why I noticed him—and after the instance ended, he told me the reason he acted strangely was that he had been there as a child. However, not long after leaving the hospital, he forgot everything before that. Only upon re-entering that building did he start recalling some fragments…”
This…
Everyone was astonished.
Wen Jianyan paused, smiling faintly:
“A bit similar, isn’t it?”
“…So you’re saying,” Chen Mo quickly connected the two, his expression solidifying, “Nightmare did it?”
Wen Jianyan shrugged.
Nightmare likely interfered with the memories of people in reality who might have had contact with instances in some way. Otherwise, the abandonment and disappearance of so many schools, hospitals, residential areas, and villages would definitely attract a lot of attention.
But this interference couldn’t last forever. Once survivors encountered relevant information again, they would quickly recall certain fragments.
“Instead of guessing this and that here, why not ask that guy,”
Chen Cheng rolled his eyes irritably, pointing at Bai Xue standing in the corner. “After all, he chose this instance, didn’t he?”
“…” The boy, white all over, stood in the corner. Only his pitch-black eyes were eerily deep. He glanced at Chen Cheng, then silently moved closer to Wen Jianyan.
“Excuse me?” Chen Cheng’s anger flared up. “What do you mean by that? I’m telling you, I’ve tolerated you for a long time…”
“Calm down,” Wen Jianyan stepped between the two, smoothing things over with a headache. “Bai Xue just dislikes all strangers, not specifically you—he gave you your painkillers, forgot?”
“Because you asked for them.”
Bai Xue added bluntly.
Wen Jianyan: “…”
You’re not helping at all.
Seeing the two about to fight, Wen Ya sighed and raised her hand to help Wen Jianyan block Chen Cheng.
She didn’t hold back her strength, causing Chen Cheng’s expression to twist instantly. Blood seeped from the unhealed wounds under his clothes: “Hey hey hey, what are you doing?”
“Hurts?” Wen Ya smiled. After all, having been Chen Cheng’s former boss and a high-level executive of Eternal Day, her imposing manner came out instantly. “I thought your injuries were completely healed.”
Chen Cheng: “…”
Fortunately for him, he was currently injured. Although his temper was as bad as ever, his physical condition greatly limited his performance. His momentum withered, and he fell silent with a cold face.
Only then did Bai Xue reluctantly speak up:
“…What I see is only probability, not the answer.”
He chose this instance only because he saw it would impact the fate and future of many people, not because he truly knew what was hidden here—otherwise, Orange Candy wouldn’t be stuck inside for so long unable to get out.
Just like that, things returned to square one.
“There are still too many unanswered questions, but this is normal since we aren’t the true experiencers of this instance right now.” Wen Ya pondered for a while and said, “Regardless, we have to wait for Orange Candy to come out of the instance first—by then, all information can be pieced together.”
Just then, a “rumble” was heard. A dull tremor came from beneath their feet, shaking the entire building.
“What’s happening?” An Xin struggled to stand firm, asking in shock.
“The loop over there ended.”
Bai Xue looked up, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling overhead.
Every time a loop ended on Orange Candy’s side before, buildings on both sides would shake together. They usually relied on this to synchronize time.
However, before Bai Xue finished speaking, the ground beneath their feet shook again, dust falling from overhead.
He froze, a trace of astonishment appearing on his rarely expressive face.
“Why did it shake twice?”
Ma Qi was dizzy from the shaking. She held onto the wall and asked,
“Or did another loop start over there…?”
“…I don’t know.” Bai Xue blinked, looking confused.
Although time flowed differently on both sides, but… ending a loop within three seconds?
This was a bit too ridiculous.
Amidst the aftershocks, Wen Jianyan suddenly felt a warmth in his chest.
He paused slightly, looking down.
Under his thin shirt, a flickering golden light was faintly visible.
He subconsciously raised his hand to touch it.
Under his palm, the golden gem-like heart released a faint heat, beating extremely lightly and slowly as if alive—thump thump, thump thump.
At the same time, the skin on his side hip, which hadn’t moved for a long time, also began to heat up slightly. The amplitude wasn’t large, warm and comforting, like some extremely familiar signal…
There was a fragment of that guy in this instance.
Wen Jianyan suddenly raised his head, his eyes flickering lightly, appearing exceptionally bright in the dark. He hooked the corner of his mouth:
“Follow me.”
The group ran wildly forward along the dark, dilapidated corridor.
Everything looked equally decayed everywhere, making it hard to distinguish where they were in the dim light. Yet Wen Jianyan seemed extremely familiar with every brick and tile here. He moved forward along the corridor, pausing only occasionally, seemingly searching for distant fragments in his memory, but he would quickly withdraw from his thoughts and continue to speed up.
Soon, they arrived at the stairs leading to the third floor.
This time, there was no lock on the stairs, so they went up to the third floor smoothly. But Wen Jianyan didn’t seem prepared to stay on this floor; his pace quickened abruptly, heading straight up—but this time, they encountered an obstacle.
A door cast like copper and iron blocked their way. The paint on the door was mottled, looking like an ominous sign.
Chen Mo pushed the door and shook his head: “No, can’t open it.”
Clearly, like other doors in this building, this one couldn’t be opened from their side.
Just then, a third tremor came again. However, due to previous experience, everyone was prepared this time and didn’t fall over like before.
“At least we can conclude now,” Wen Ya stood firm and said. “The possibility of three loops in such a short time is really unlikely. Something must have happened over there to cause this situation—just don’t know if it’s good or bad.”
“I think it’s good.”
An Xin shrugged and said.
“After all, they are in a time loop. To break free, naturally, they have to create something different from before. If you ask me, Orange Candy probably found the way to solve the puzzle. Truly worthy of the Nightmare top ten…”
While An Xin was tut-tutting in admiration, Bai Xue’s expression changed drastically.
Wen Jianyan noticed the change in his face: “What’s wrong?”
“…”
Bai Xue didn’t answer. withdrawing his gaze from the void, he quickly took out his phone from his pocket, his movements unusually urgent.
Beep… beep… beep…
This time, the busy tone was longer than any previous time.
Just as everyone’s hearts hung by a thread, finally, with a click, the call was picked up.
Orange Candy put the phone to her ear.
Even through the static interference, causing Bai Xue’s voice to distort somewhat, she could still hear the rare urgency mixed in his usually flat tone:
“Whatever you want to do now, don’t do it.”
“…”
Orange Candy didn’t answer immediately.
Surrounding her was boundless darkness impenetrable by light. Featureless white faces floated in the void, whispering from afar, sounding fawning yet ecstatic.
Thin arms of children were grabbed by arms emerging from the darkness. Their struggles, cries, screams, pleas for mercy… all sounds seemed muted, drowned out by the terrifying whispers from all directions.
In the center surrounded by Mommas was a figure covered in messy black lines.
It seemed synonymous with nothingness. Where its body should be, it looked like a large empty hole had been gouged out of the darkness, with endless cold wind pouring in.
—Clearly, all the children were controlled, but her group seemed forgotten. Perhaps because they hadn’t appeared in this timeline, no Mommas tried to grab them.
Orange Candy’s fingers tightened. The rusty huge cleaver dragged behind her, the blood soaking it appearing vividly fresh, seemingly awaiting its master’s command.
Her gaze stared coldly ahead.
In the receiver by her ear, Bai Xue’s urgent voice came:
“Don’t be impulsive, did you hear me?”
In front of the skinny child standing alone, the figure called “Mr. Yun” bent down bit by bit. It seemed to be scrutinizing the child before it with eyes covered by nothingness, then emitted a voice mixed with strange static, sounding inhuman:
“Is it you who planned the escape?”
“Hello? Hello?” The voice on the other end changed. Orange Candy recognized it as Wen Jianyan’s own voice—across distant time and space, his voice was as gentle as ever, carrying a peculiar magic that could calm people down. “Orange Candy, it’s me.”
“Did you hear what Bai Xue just said?”
“…Mn.” Orange Candy squeezed a short syllable through her teeth.
“But sorry, I can’t do it this time.”
Last time she listened to that guy’s “advice,” the result was a beating for the brat and a whole night in the dog cage.
What about this time?
Staying put cowardly this time wasn’t her style.
“…”
The other end seemed silent for a few seconds.
Finally, Wen Jianyan spoke again, his voice very soft: “Tell me, what do you see?”
“You.” Orange Candy stared fixedly at the commotion not far away, her spine slightly arched like a taut bowstring. “You were caught.”
The other side was quiet for a moment.
“So it was here.”
Wen Jianyan said.
“Tell me, who is your enemy?”
“Over a dozen Mommas, but I can take them,” Orange Candy said. “There’s also a guy called Mr. Yun—I can’t see his face, but his body is black lines—his voice is strange, and he gives me a very uncomfortable feeling.”
“He…” The other side seemed stunned.
“You know who it is?” Orange Candy caught the anomaly and pressed.
“Mn.” Wen Jianyan said. “I dealt with it at Yuying Comprehensive University.”
In the principal’s office, he had faced that terrible fear almost equivalent to death.
And on the Lucky Cruise, he was fortunate enough to witness its massive corpse submerged in the tank.
“It is the proxy of the Nightmare will.”
“What Bai Xue saw is real—if you really clash here, you will die.”
In the dead silence, “Mr. Yun” reached out and patted Little Wen Jianyan’s head in a creepy manner, then giggled: “Truly surprising.”
“Mr. Yun” withdrew his hand and retreated.
Two Mommas stepped forward, their pincer-like large hands firmly grabbing Little Wen Jianyan’s body.
“Let’s go, time to go back.”
“No, no, don’t! Let go of me!” The child struggled, letting out heartbreaking screams. “Someone save me!”
Orange Candy abruptly tightened her fingers, her teeth grinding with a clacking sound.
However, through the phone came the young man’s gentle voice:
“This is something that has already happened.”
“You can’t change it.”
His voice was helpless.
“Don’t go save him.”
