Zhou Qi’an knew what he was thinking.
But this was just normal conversation, not whispering. There was no need to worry about soundproofing issues.
Chen Jian shook his head. It seemed the other party was determined to provoke the NPC and attempt a forceful kill.
A few meters away, Zhou Qi’an, with his thin frame, had his shirt soaked from the earlier chase. Combined with his overly thick hair, he looked rather disheveled.
Yet, he still gave off an impression of being shy and well-behaved.
“I don’t get it.”
Since they had triggered a mission, shouldn’t they pick one of the two options and proceed accordingly? Why insist on courting death?
Chen Jian had no intention of getting caught up in Xun Er’s anger when he came in later, so he turned and went upstairs.
The college student was still clinging to the stairwell and asked, “I think I saw him holding a notebook just now. Did he find another clue?”
Chen Jian responded with a simple “Mm.”
And that was it.
In the first-floor lobby, Zhou Qi’an actually didn’t open the door.
When Xun Er climbed in through the kitchen window, Zhou Qi’an even kindly helped pull him in. With an innocent expression, he said, “I was just joking. Why did you really use the window?”
Except for the callused spots, his hands—from fingers to palm—were unusually smooth, feeling almost like fish scales.
The moment Xun Er arrived at the villa, he returned to his usual warm and gentle demeanor. He simply looked at Zhou Qi’an in silence, without arguing.
Zhou Qi’an used a cloth to wipe off the shoe prints on the marble countertop. “Earlier, you said that even if we got hungry at night, we couldn’t come to the kitchen to steal a late-night snack.”
“I absolutely won’t steal food tonight.”
Zhou Qi’an patted his stomach and let out a small burp like a satisfied kitten. “Because I’ve already been fed full.”
He might as well have said outright: I ate the five-star fish-eye.
Xun Er stared at the spot where his hand rested, his expression dark and unreadable.
Zhou Qi’an washed the cloth clean and headed upstairs.
His goal was never swayed by missions.
The system emphasized that inheriting a character made rarity valuable—whenever someone died, friendliness points increased.
If Xun Er died, the friendliness boost would be far greater than if a player died. It would be enough to push his score to a passing grade. At that point, the others could also benefit and ride the wave to success.
Helping others while helping himself—this was the way forward.
“Much better than wasting time on reporting and exposing others.”
Besides, there was no guarantee that reporting would even work. He would have to face both Xun the Wealthy and Xun Er, two unpredictable factors. Dealing with just one was much simpler.
His room had returned to its original state.
The wooden floor showed no trace of the fresh blood that had once drenched it. The mattress was intact, as if nothing had ever happened. Everything looked just as it did on the first day he arrived—except for the schedule that had turned to ash.
“I wonder if the female ghost and the child ghost are still around.”
Zhou Qi’an jumped on the bed, but the bedboard didn’t even creak.
“They probably moved somewhere else.” This morning, when he joked about being scared enough to wet the bed, at least the female ghost had given him a warning.
Lying flat on the bed, Zhou Qi’an quietly contemplated: If I want to kill Xun Er, it has to be inside the villa.
Despite the presence of the statue, the female ghost, the child ghost, and the unpredictable Xun the Wealthy, the villa was, in some sense, a safe zone.
The female ghost had said there was an ancestral treasure suppressing things here, which meant the monsters’ power was relatively weakened.
·
After Wang Mu’s death, everyone’s mood at dinner was heavy. In just one day, the illusion of a happy family gathering had been cruelly shattered.
Xun the Wealthy kept mumbling about the statue, looking even more deranged than he had at noon. The ever-kind-looking Xun Er, for once, had a darkened expression that didn’t change.
Meanwhile, Zhou Qi’an… Zhou Qi’an kept rubbing his stomach, his gaze unnervingly gentle, sending chills down everyone’s spine.
Han Li, who had spent the afternoon exploring the lakeside with Han Tiansheng after burying the body, had no idea what had happened in the villa.
Noticing the strange atmosphere, she lowered her voice and asked the college student, “What happened this afternoon?”
The college student shook his head, indicating he didn’t know. After glancing at Zhou Qi’an, he hesitated and said, “Maybe he discovered some new clues. He got a booklet or something, but I’m not sure about the details.”
Hearing that Zhou Qi’an had made another discovery, Han Li was so frustrated that she pinched her own thigh.
Damn.
He flipped out too early.
After dinner, as soon as Xun the Wealthy left the table and went upstairs, Zhou Qi’an followed closely behind under Xun Er’s dark gaze, returning to his room to rest.
Han Li seemed to want to mend ties again. Zhou Qi’an admired her ability to switch between hostility and friendliness so quickly. Cutting her off mid-sentence, he chose to return to his room instead.
The door had been broken by Xun Er, so he could only block it with a chair.
Once everything was in place, Zhou Qi’an stood in an open space and summoned [White Silk].
The white satin ribbon danced through the air, looking somewhat like a beginner lion dancer—awkwardly twisting and turning in a comical fashion.
Controlling it with sheer willpower was a skill of its own.
Zhou Qi’an had always been naturally talented at such things. Within minutes, he had grasped the essentials.
“Hanging the NPC from the left, suspending the NPC from above, dragging the NPC from below…” Zhou Qi’an watched with satisfaction as the White Silk morphed into various forms—thin as steel wire, spread out like a corpse-wrapping cloth, effortlessly turning into a lethal weapon against ghosts. He nodded and said, “Nothing special, just skilled hands.”
Corpse cloth, knockoff charger, health-boosting pill.
Zhou Qi’an examined the three items and categorized them:
Murder weapon. Anti-supernatural tool. Non-lethal quick-heal medicine.
“Everything’s ready. Just waiting for Xun Er to walk in.”
The only downside was that he’d have to waste a health-boosting pill—an excellent life-saving item. But Zhou Qi’an had always been pragmatic. Opportunities favored the prepared. The ways to die in this instance were endless; hoarding items was meaningless.
“Xun Er even lost control of his expression at dinner. He’s definitely pissed.”
The only question was whether he’d be mad enough to storm in immediately.
Should he leave the window slightly open? Zhou Qi’an even thoughtfully considered how to make the “client” feel at ease when approaching.
His room didn’t have a bathroom. Since tonight was bound to be a tough fight, he accounted for every detail.
He had drunk a lot of water during the day, so he forced himself to use the restroom now—just in case he had to pee at a critical moment.
Dinner had ended early. It was only a little past eight. The glow from the other rooms spilled through the cracks in the doors.
The college student seemed to be in Han Tiansheng’s room, chatting about something. Wang Mu’s room was empty. Xun Er’s room also had light seeping out.
The glow dispelled the eerie stillness of the hallway.
The restroom wasn’t far.
Some genius had installed a motion-activated light in there, but its timer was ridiculously short. By the time Zhou Qi’an finished unzipping his pants, it had already gone out twice.
He couldn’t be bothered to keep saying “hey, hey” like a lunatic or clapping his hands to reactivate it.
Only when he went to wash his hands did he stomp his foot heavily.
The faucet turned on, and amid the continuous sound of running water and his stomping, the motion light still didn’t turn back on.
Water flowed over his palms. Zhou Qi’an’s gaze sharpened. Something was off.
He could sense something else nearby.
That same feeling from earlier in the dense forest—like a cat toying with a mouse—was back. Whatever lurked in the shadows wasn’t hiding its presence. The temperature kept dropping as if it were savoring the sight of its prey.
It seemed curious: Would Zhou Qi’an scream? Run? Or… fight back?
Zhou Qi’an slowly turned off the faucet and lifted his head.
Conserve water, everyone’s responsibility.
The mirror in front of him reflected a vague, familiar face—
His own.
He knew Xun Er was likely nearby but couldn’t pinpoint his exact location.
“Strange.”
Zhou Qi’an’s senses were exceptionally sharp—like an animal that could detect earthquakes before humans. Even in darkness, he could always lock onto the source.
So… was the intruder not in the restroom?
Just as this thought crossed his mind—
“Click.”
The door behind him suddenly locked.
The air shuddered from the force.
Zhou Qi’an spun around. The door had been locked from the outside.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob, a wave of weakness suddenly swept over his body.
A strange scent filled the air.
“Gas?”
No, if it were poisonous, the system would have issued a resistance notification.
Even holding his breath, his limbs grew increasingly numb and weak. He belatedly realized—he had inhaled some kind of anesthetic gas.
Shit.
This is some next-level science.
He had considered everything—how the NPCs’ powers were restricted in the villa, how it wasn’t even 9 PM yet (even last night, the vengeful spirit had only attacked after nightfall).
But he never expected this—
Xun Er didn’t transform and attack outright.
He used anesthesia instead.
Damn your ancestors. Fighting dirty, huh?
The next second, Zhou Qi’an collapsed as the anesthesia took full effect.
In the instant he lost consciousness, Zhou Qi’an belatedly remembered the two work ID cards he had seen in the closet. Xun Er’s biological parents were doctors, so it made sense that he would use such a method—it was part of the logical chain.
After falling unconscious, the dark world was far from silent; instead, it was filled with noise.
Zhou Qi’an’s body still had some resistance.
Though he blacked out, he retained most of his consciousness.
From a medical perspective, he belonged to the group of people who could wake up from anesthesia, and his drug tolerance was exceptional. The system had specifically noted his drug resistance and detoxification abilities during the initial attribute testing.
It was a chaotic and noisy feeling, weak yet lucid.
This familiar sensation in an instant seemed to transport him back three years—
After the heavy fog cleared, the whole city was filled with injured people.
The wheels of the emergency carts almost sparked as they raced forward. The sound of ambulances outside was clearly transmitted through the sturdy walls, and everyone was running.
The city activated its emergency response plan. There were too many patients waiting for surgery, and the entire hospital felt overcrowded, as if it might explode at any moment.
That wasn’t even the worst part—some equipment had been destroyed by out-of-control individuals.
Amid the disaster, there were severe shortages of medical staff, and everything had to be simplified.
Patients kept increasing by the minute, and Zhou Qi’an was lucky enough to be scheduled for surgery.
As the heavy door closed, it felt like something was shining on his eyelids. He tried to move, but his thin eyelids stubbornly refused to open.
The lead surgeon wasted no time, each incision precisely placed. The sharp scalpel effortlessly sliced through his skin as the doctor expertly cleaned the blood in his abdomen.
Pain.
Excruciating pain.
Though Zhou Qi’an appeared motionless, his brain was working at full speed.
The cutting, the artery ligation… he could feel every moment in its entirety.
“Gauze.”
At the surgeon’s casual utterance, he knew what the next part of the torture would be.
When the gauze was packed into the wound to stop the bleeding, Zhou Qi’an felt like he was about to die from pain.
The doctor continued stitching without pause…
From the smallest motion of wiping sweat to the snip of the scissors, Zhou Qi’an could hear everything clearly.
“Help—”
He desperately opened his mouth, like a traveler on the verge of collapse in the desert, facing the sky, hoping to catch a drop of water falling from the clouds.
But the drop of dew never came.
Time seemed to stretch into a long century. When the operating room door opened again, the exhausted doctor reported to those waiting outside, “Don’t worry, the surgery was successful.”
On the operating table, Zhou Qi’an thought:
“…Successful?”
His consciousness nearly broke free from his body, and his lips moved slightly—
“Successful? You…”
“You… ugh… you bastard.”
The intense urge to curse jolted his consciousness awake. The doctor, the operating table, and everything before him became blurry. Distant rustling sounds seemed to come from the farthest reaches of the sky.
The light hit his eyelids, and Zhou Qi’an finally woke up from the nightmare of three years ago.
A damp and dark atmosphere surrounded his body.
There was only one lamp around him—dim, but not too dark.
He mustered all his strength and finally managed to lift his eyelids slightly, vaguely seeing Xun Er seemingly standing ahead, coldly staring at him.
Author’s Note:
Zhou Qi’an: Starting is hard, continuing is hard, but not only did I get a good start, but the process is also unfolding well. Looks like I’m about to succeed.
P.S.: This situation is an exception. You don’t need to worry too much about it in daily life. The background of the story involves a disaster causing chaos, with a severe shortage of staff.
