Thank you @turbojenerators for the Kofi.
Chapter 641: Is this still a cruise ship?
The light dimmed with incredible speed.
In just a few short minutes, the entire orphanage was shrouded in darkness.
“Scram!”
Another shadow born from the corner was torn apart, dissipating into the darkness like molten mud.
To save time, Orange Candy and her group held nothing back, prioritizing efficiency above all else.
Additionally, with the other anchors attracting attention on the first floor, they hadn’t encountered many Mamas on their way up. However, as the darkness descended, an endless stream of black shadows began to drill out from the cracks.
Just as they were about to reach the second floor, a rumbling tremor came from beneath the ground once again.
The vibration came without warning and was stronger than any previous one. Caught off guard, the three nearly fell over.
“…” They looked at each other, quickly exchanging grave glances.
Based on experience, this current cycle probably wouldn’t last much longer.
“Move faster!!” Orange Candy commanded sternly.
The closer they got to the fourth floor, the higher the frequency of the tremors became. The earthquakes, which originally occurred once per cycle, had now accelerated to once every few minutes!
Moreover, each one was stronger and lasted longer than the last.
The sound of cracking came from the gaps in the walls and floorboards. The entire orphanage sounded like a stack of building blocks being frantically shaken by a child, emitting an overwhelmed, creaking groan.
Struggling to maintain their footing against the intensifying earthquakes while dealing with the endless, multiplying shadows, the three found it difficult to move forward.
Zhao Ran raised his arm to block the debris falling from above, shouting over the noise, “It’s the same if we figure out a way during the next cycle!”
“Shut up!”
Orange Candy’s vicious voice came from the front. “Faster!”
Meanwhile.
Although they weren’t in the same spacetime, the tremors were shared.
The group stood before the tightly closed door on the fourth floor, struggling to withstand the waves of terrifying vibrations that were intensifying. Debris and dust rained down from above, making them dizzy and breathless.
“Why hasn’t Orange Candy finished yet? My brains are about to be scrambled!!”
Chen Cheng cursed angrily.
Bai Xue was also shaken until he saw stars. If Wen Jianyan hadn’t been holding onto him, he might have been vibrated right onto the floor in the next second.
Boom!
The sound of something collapsing came from below.
The next second, Bai Xue jerked his head up, his eerie, pitch-black eyes staring into the void. “Those things chasing you… they’re coming again.”
“What?!”
Hearing this, everyone’s heart skipped a beat.
Why did those “passengers” have to catch up now of all times?
They had barely managed to handle them before; in their current state, it was unsustainable.
“How much lamp oil do you have left?” Chen Mo’s expression was grave as he turned to look at Wen Jianyan.
Wen Jianyan looked down at the remaining white paste in the copper plate, his heart sinking. “Two times, tops.”
They had to gamble.
Cold, stiff footsteps sounded once again from the end of the corridor. The violent shaking of the building didn’t seem to affect their pace in the slightest. Boundless darkness accompanied them, and the already meager light was swallowed up in the blink of an eye.
“…”
Cold sweat seeped from Wen Jianyan’s palm as he gripped the oil lamp. He held his breath slightly, listening carefully to the approaching footsteps, and lit the lamp at the very last second.
The flame sputtered to life with a hiss, and the scarce oil began to burn at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Only when the footsteps departed did the oil lamp finally return to a normal burning speed.
Sweat beaded on Wen Jianyan’s forehead as he checked the remaining oil:
“It can hold out one last time… and that’s only if we get lucky.”
If they were unlucky…
The oil would run out in the middle of an attack.
Hearing this, everyone’s breath hitched.
“Hasn’t Orange Candy pushed through yet?” Chen Mo asked.
Blond, who was closest to the main door, pushed against it and shook his head. “No.”
“Looks like we have to prepare for the worst.” Wen Jianyan flexed his somewhat stiff fingers and took a deep breath. “Who still has combat capability?”
“Me.” Chen Mo nodded.
Wen Ya: “Count me in.”
“I can barely make myself useful.” An Xin blinked.
Chen Cheng: “I…”
Wen Jianyan: “Keep dreaming.”
Chen Cheng: “…”
“I can help,” Bai Xue turned his head, his abyss-black eyes looking over from beneath snowy white lashes. “But there might be consequences.”
“Thanks… If we really reach the end of our rope, I’ll call you.”
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and said.
The consequences caused by Bai Xue’s talent were just as terrifying as the talent itself.
Using it when they already had no way out might just become their death knell.
Not far away, the footsteps that had just disappeared sounded again. The sound echoed in the empty corridor, each step striking against their hearts.
“They’re here,” Wen Jianyan whispered.
As the footsteps approached, the lamp wick flared up again. The flame expanded, and the smell of rotting sweetness spread rapidly as it burned. Darkness as thick as ink pressed in from all directions, accompanied by the shadowing, ever-approaching footsteps. It was suffocating.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes were fixed on the vanishing oil.
The metal plate was gradually becoming exposed, yet the footsteps had not left.
They seemed to sense that the group was at the end of their strength, so they lingered, refusing to go far.
Ma Qi’s face was pale as she neurotically bit her fingernails. Everyone’s bodies and nerves were taut to the limit.
Suddenly—
Rumble!
The building began to shake again.
Ma Qi and Blond, who weren’t standing very steadily, were shaken to the ground. Chen Cheng, who was already at his limit, also stumbled and nearly fell. Panic flashed in Wen Jianyan’s heart, and his fingers nearly lost their grip—fortunately, his reactions were always fast, and he managed to clamp his hand tightly around the oil lamp before it could slip away.
The rising flame flickered. In the rapidly shifting light, Wen Jianyan seemed to glimpse something…
Something white drifted down lightly.
But before he could see it clearly, the object disappeared. And because of the brief flickering of the candlelight, the footsteps that were already close at hand advanced several steps.
A rotten stench of corpses mixed with the smell of earth enveloped them.
But the next second, a deep male voice rang out, filled with astonishment.
“…What is the situation?”
“?!”
The voice came abruptly. Everyone turned their heads in surprise, looking towards the source of the sound.
A tall man with gloomy features stood in their midst.
At this moment, he looked completely bewildered, seemingly unfamiliar with everything around him.
“…” Qi Qian looked around, paused, and slowly spoke: “…Is this still the cruise ship?”
“Captain!!!!”
The moment he saw Qi Qian, An Xin almost wept with joy.
“Hah, I thought you’d slept yourself to death.” Excessive blood loss clearly didn’t affect Chen Cheng’s sarcasm.
Qi Qian: “…”
“We left the cruise ship long ago,” Chen Mo didn’t waste time due to the critical situation, getting straight to the point. “We were on a train before, and now we’re in an orphanage.”
Qi Qian: “…………”
Due to the specific nature of his talent, the more terrifying the death crisis he suffered, the longer the resurrection time required.
So, he had prepared himself to open his eyes and be back in the Anchor Hall.
But…
Train?
Orphanage??
No… exactly how long had he been asleep this time?!!
Before Qi Qian could recover from his daze, a needle-like chill suddenly attacked from behind. His pupils constricted, and he snapped his head around.
In the darkness, footsteps followed like shadows.
The intense stench of rotting corpses, the tangible sense of oppression, the dying lamp wick…
Everything was so familiar, simply like a recurring nightmare.
Qi Qian: “……………………”
Wait, no way.
However, what An Xin said next made his ominous premonition come true: “Remember the Changsheng Building? Uh… to put it in a way that’s easy to understand, the ghosts from inside there chased us out.”
Wen Jianyan: “It is so good that you woke up right now!”
He looked visibly moved.
“Most of us have lost our combat ability, and we happen to need someone to fill in!”
Qi Qian: “…”
Sometimes, one really would prefer not to have woken up.
But he still let out a long sigh: “…Fine, what do you need me to do?”
The shadows behind were in hot pursuit, but the fourth floor was right before their eyes.
The massive, solid iron door stood before them, motionless amidst the intensifying tremors.
Wei Cheng lowered his head to check the lock, sweat beading on his nose:
“Bad news, the unlocking item doesn’t seem to work…”
“Move!”
Orange Candy’s sharp shout came from behind.
Wei Cheng hurriedly dodged. The next second, a sharp sound of something cutting through the air rang out right next to him.
With a loud bang, a shocking gash appeared on the door. The iron lock had been destroyed by brute force.
“This won’t last.”
Orange Candy casually gripped the rusty machete. Blood flowed from the split skin between her thumb and forefinger, greedily absorbed by the blade glowing with red light.
“Go, get in.”
The moment they stepped onto the fourth floor, the whole world seemed to go quiet.
Behind them, the shadows that had been relentlessly pursuing them began to slowly retreat upon reaching the doorway. Under their gaze, the shadows vanished bit by bit into the darkness of the stairwell.
“…”
The group looked at each other, exchanging astonished glances.
“Forget it,” Orange Candy decided promptly. “Keep moving forward.”
The three retracted their gazes and decisively moved ahead.
The fourth floor was heinously quiet, as if all sound had been completely absorbed. Apart from their own hurried footsteps, all they could hear were their own heartbeats and breathing.
The tremors from below the ground had disappeared at some point. It was unknown if they had truly stopped, or if, like the shadows, they couldn’t affect this floor.
The further they walked, the colder the air became.
Suddenly, Orange Candy’s steps came to an abrupt halt.
“What’s wrong?” Zhao Ran, following behind, asked in confusion.
Orange Candy didn’t answer.
Wei Cheng took a step forward, looked past Orange Candy, and was also stunned.
Not far away, on the open ground, lay several small corpses.
They lay quietly on the floor, breathless. Underneath their tattered clothes, their thin, small bodies looked like fragile sheets of paper.
“…”
The three fell silent simultaneously for a moment.
“…Keep moving,” Orange Candy said, taking one last deep look at the children’s bodies on the ground before withdrawing her gaze.
The three no longer sprinted but walked slowly forward.
As they approached, the darkness ahead gradually dispersed, and the number of corpses on the ground increased.
The further forward they went, the greater the number.
The eyelids on the children’s bloodless faces were half-closed. The pupils beneath were dilated and hollow, like bottomless pits capable of swallowing all light.
Their expressions were frozen in terror and despair, fixed forever in this moment.
In their half-curled, stiff little hands lay candies that hadn’t been unwrapped in time.
“Hell…” Zhao Ran lowered his voice involuntarily. “Are all these kids dead?”
As anchors, they were long accustomed to the death of NPCs, but such a tragic scene was still hard to remain indifferent to.
“But why…” Wei Cheng muttered.
The person respectfully called “Mr. Yun” by the Mamas was clearly the “Investor” the anchors had heard about. According to Wen Jianyan, it wasn’t a living person, nor did it have its own will; it was merely a proxy for the Nightmare. What it did was what the Nightmare wished to see.
Based on what they saw on the second floor, this orphanage was a continuously operating corpse furnace. The eliminated children became fuel, and as long as more children were sent in to fill the quota, this place would continue to operate endlessly.
So, why decide to shut this place down?
Zhao Ran froze, seemingly realizing something, and then asked the question everyone wanted to ask:
“Wait, then where is Pinocchio?”
The remaining lamp oil was taken away by Qi Qian. Darkness descended once again. Leaving with him were An Xin, Wen Ya, and Chen Mo—the few remaining combat-capable members—as well as Ma Qi, who had had direct contact with the “passengers.”
“Can they really do it…” Blond asked with some unease.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, but the gap between the enemy and their side was simply too terrifying. One “passenger” was already frightening enough, and chasing behind them now was not just one, but a full six!
“It’s the only way,” Wen Jianyan said softly, taking a deep breath.
If they all stayed here, just waiting for the oil lamp to run out during the relentless attacks, only death awaited them. Having Qi Qian take the oil lamp to stall the passengers further away was their only chance of survival.
“They don’t need to kill the ‘passengers’.”
Moreover, the “passengers” couldn’t be killed.
“They just need to buy time until the fourth-floor door opens. That’s enough.”
Wen Jianyan glanced into the distance and added:
“Besides, don’t underestimate Qi Qian and the others.”
To rise all the way to become the Vice President of Dark Fire, Qi Qian relied on more than just his talent. Plus, he was a survivor of the [Changsheng Building] instance and had sufficient experience to cope. Even if he couldn’t completely eliminate the danger, there was a good chance of surviving the attacks.
Just then, the tightly closed door behind them suddenly made a strange clack sound, as if struck hard by sharp metal.
“!”
Everyone was startled and snapped their heads around.
They saw a deep crack appear on the massive door, which had been tightly shut as if cast from iron and copper. It slowly slid inward.
Inside the crack of the door, it was pitch black.
“The door is open!” Blond’s eyes lit up. “Quick, let’s get in!”
A suffocating scent of blood spilled out from the crack in the door. The smell was extremely intense, as if it could never dry up no matter how much time passed.
“…”
Wen Jianyan, usually the fastest to react and the most agile, suddenly froze. He stared at the slightly open door, his expression seemingly blank for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” Chen Cheng, walking in front, stopped and turned back to look at him. “What are you waiting for?”
“…Nothing.” Wen Jianyan lowered his eyelashes and immediately followed.
Chen Cheng’s gaze lingered on his face for a moment. He opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing.
Perhaps it was because the light was too dim and visibility was too low.
He just now… almost thought he saw sorrow on the other’s face.
The corpses on the ground piled up more and more.
towards the back, they could almost no longer be laid flat.
Thin, frail children’s bodies were stacked upon one another, arm over arm, leg over leg.
The further the three walked, the tighter their hearts clenched.
The thick smell of blood floated in the air, choking them until they could barely breathe.
Suddenly, Wei Cheng’s sharp eyes spotted something. “Look over there!”
A pale little face lay on the ground, eyes wide open in death. Even so, they could still recognize the familiar features—it was one of the children who had escaped with Pinocchio.
As if realizing something, the three ran towards that direction in unison.
More and more familiar faces appeared among the piled corpses.
…Number 157… Number 198.
Unlike the other children, they seemed to have died… more painfully. Despair was congealed on their dead faces like heavy oil paint that couldn’t be washed away.
Orange Candy, walking in the lead, suddenly stopped in her tracks.
The other two followed her gaze.
A thin, small child stood amidst the pile of his companions’ corpses. His head hung low, his expression blank, and his hollow eyes held no spark of life, as if his soul had been drawn out.
His face was dry; he wasn’t crying.
Orange Candy’s fingers tightened.
“…Hey.”
Her throat was dry. She opened her mouth, but ultimately only emitted a dry syllable.
Not far behind the small Wen Jianyan stood a pitch-black, chaotic human shape, like a nightmare.
Though it had no facial features, they seemed to be able to see its huge smile cracking open with delight.
As if it had finally obtained the perfect toy.
“Kindling… has all… been cleared…”
A bizarre voice issued from its body.
“But… the remaining one… is perfect… can enter… the next stage…”
It took a step, walking slowly towards the child standing not far away.
Orange Candy suddenly snapped out of it.
Staring fixedly at the approaching shadow, she reached out her hand toward the small Wen Jianyan. “Hey, hey… Hey! Come here, quick!”
Her voice had an effect.
The other’s body moved, as if he had heard her call.
However, he didn’t walk over as Orange Candy expected. The black shadow approached bit by bit from behind, chasing like an inescapable shadow of death, or like giant hands manipulating invisible strings descending to cover him.
The child slowly raised his head, his gaze fixedly looking over. His bloodless lips moved, emitting a soft sound:
“…I said I could take them out.”
He blinked.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
“…I lied to them.”
