The conjoined old woman struggled to retract her elongated neck, her remaining eye-catching sight of the Minotaur.
That damn security guard—he was completely ignoring what was happening here.
The towering Minotaur was busy wiping down the bus.
“Him,” the old woman rasped, barely managing to lift a withered finger, her tone venomous as she tried to manipulate. “Go ask him. He knows everything.”
The suited man remained motionless, not immediately looking at the Minotaur. His gaze had briefly swept past the conjoined old woman earlier, and now, he was fixated on the partially obscured advertisement board behind her.
A few seconds later, the man suddenly released his grip on the old woman’s neck.
She collapsed onto the ground, revealing the advertisement board in full view.
The boss, who had navigated his way here through the fog, smiled.
“So you really are working a side gig.”
And not just that—you’re doing it quite well.
Jinxiang Tower, Top Floor.
The metal-bodied administrator approached, holding a special detection device in his hand. His voice, distorted by a mechanical filter, crackled: “The mall prohibits theft.”
The man in the baseball cap didn’t linger to watch the show.
After stepping out of the elevator, his pace slowed for just a fraction of a second, as if sensing something unusual on the eighteenth floor.
The skull-shaped ring on his finger spun several times. His gaze rested thoughtfully on the floral wallpaper lining the walls.
Red spider lilies.
Bridge, water, wood, people—interwoven with faint silhouettes, forming a four-cornered array. The bridge served as the array’s core. Legends said that once one crossed the Bridge of the Other Shore, all worldly troubles would vanish. This formation already contained a malicious spirit; forcefully breaking it would be difficult and risk severe backlash.
The baseball cap’s eyes followed the motion of his spinning skull ring, an idea forming in his mind.
In the end, he never fully stepped out of the elevator. He let the doors remain open, simply observing.
Zhou Qi’an knew little about formations—in fact, he was completely clueless.
All he knew was that he had become the primary target of the large, invisible hand behind him while also having to deal with a hostile NPC in front of him.
Before preparing to engage the metal-bodied administrator, Zhou Qi’an, in an act of loyalty, spoke up: “Forget about me. You guys go ahead.”
Silence.
Zhou Qi’an tilted his head.
There was only cold air beside him.
What the hell?
When did those two leave?
The baseball cap sneered, “Their footsteps never stopped from the beginning.”
“…”
If there was one slight advantage, it was that the metal-bodied administrator didn’t reek of decay like the other creatures. However, he was far more direct. Without giving Zhou Qi’an a chance to explain himself, the detection device immediately began scanning his thin frame from top to bottom.
Zhou Qi’an remained exceptionally calm, spreading his limbs wide in full cooperation.
The device scanned him twice, but it made no sound.
Unconvinced, the administrator ran the scan again.
Since the metal-bodied figure blocked half of Zhou Qi’an’s body from view, the baseball cap couldn’t see his pockets—but he was certain that a minute ago, there had been something inside them.
The amusement and ease in his expression faded.
Jewelry and similar valuables couldn’t be stored in a game inventory. In just a few short seconds, where had the planted evidence gone?
Zhou Qi’an suddenly flashed him a grin.
For some reason, a sense of unease crept into the baseball cap’s mind. Instinctively, he reached into his own pocket.
The familiar, cold touch of metal beneath his fingers startled him.
His expression shifted. “When did—”
At that moment, Zhou Qi’an’s voice rang out: “A thief crying ‘thief’—I’ve met people like you before.”
Without hesitation, the baseball cap pressed the close-door button, attempting to leave immediately.
But in the very next second, the metal-bodied administrator appeared before him, his tone laced with hostility: “Where do you think you’re going?”
A white silk ribbon suddenly shot through the gap between them, yanking the baseball cap out of the elevator while he was distracted by the NPC.
Zhou Qi’an shouted, “Thief! Don’t even think about running!”
The baseball cap staggered but quickly regained his footing—yet he was now outside the elevator.
Not far away, Zhou Qi’an swiftly retracted the white silk ribbon. After finishing his accusation, he spun around and broke into a sprint toward the dimly lit corridor ahead.
The malicious spirit hesitated for a moment, almost chasing after him, but upon realizing that the baseball cap was currently the weaker prey, it changed its target.
At the corridor’s darkened end lay the tower’s largest and once most luxurious office.
A symbol of power, the office had long since fallen into ruin.
From the ceiling to the floor, the room was covered with bright red markings that looked like ghostly scribbles. The curtains were tightly shut, and the entire space was illuminated only by four candles.
Trash was scattered everywhere.
An old man, his face obscured, held a string of sandalwood prayer beads in his hand. He faced the wall, muttering incomprehensible incantations without pause.
A stranger had arrived, yet the old man did not turn around. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Finally, another batch of ‘malleable talent’ has come.”
“You must be one of the new employees in this building… I’ve been waiting for you.”
Having knelt for a long time, the old man struggled to stand, his voice rasping like sandpaper. “Child, I need you to do me a favor.”
This was one of the standard phrases NPCs used to issue quests.
Mu Tianbai felt no excitement at the prospect of triggering a mission. He stood at the doorway, tall and straight, his shadow appearing misty beneath his feet.
Not far away, the College student remained in a dazed state, instinctively walking forward without stopping, even as he neared the wall.
A moment later, in response to the old man’s request, Mu Tianbai chuckled softly. “To be honest, old man, I’m only here for the money.”
The old man’s fingers, which had been rolling the beads, briefly paused.
“I just want benefits. Either you pay me off with something valuable, or…” Mu Tianbai’s tone remained calm but ruthless. “I’ll stay right here. The next person who walks in—I’ll kill them. You want someone to do your bidding? You need people for that, don’t you?”
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a loud thud—the College student had just walked straight into the wall.
He seemed to snap back to reality, blinking in confusion. “Where’s Brother Zhou? He went—”
Before he could finish, a sharp elbow strike sent him crashing to the floor.
The freshly sobered student clutched his stomach, his face filled with shock. He instinctively tried to resist, but his efforts were as futile as an ant trying to stop a cart. In the next second, Mu Tianbai effortlessly slammed him against the wall, knocking him unconscious.
Mu Tianbai took slow, deliberate steps toward the motionless student, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the old man’s face.
“Give me something in return, or I’ll do exactly as I said.”
His left eye said, “One comes, one dies.”
His right eye said, “Two come, two die.”
The old man’s breathing grew ragged, and he clutched his chest tightly, clearly infuriated.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, accompanied by faint panting.
It was Zhou Qi’an. After escaping from the metal-bodied administrator, he had finally found the office.
Seeing the unconscious College student, Zhou Qi’an looked bewildered. “What happened here…”
Then, spotting the old figure inside the office, he froze for a moment. “Wait, there’s an old man here too? Hello, sir, I—”
Before he could finish, Mu Tianbai’s broad hand easily grabbed Zhou Qi’an’s arm. In his other hand, a sharp blade materialized out of thin air, slashing toward the delicate skin of Zhou Qi’an’s neck. He seemed intent on making an example of him before the old man.
Zhou Qi’an dodged swiftly, dashing forward.
But there was only a cold, solid wall ahead—no way out.
As the raised dagger came down again, the old man finally snapped back to reality. “You little bastard.”
He cursed viciously and blew into the silver whistle hanging from his neck.
From the shadows, a creature emerged—something vaguely alive yet entirely devoid of intact flesh. It was a grotesque, bloodied monster, moving on all fours.
The old man pointed at Mu Tianbai, his voice dripping with malice. “Kill him!”
How dare he threaten me.
The creature’s leap carried far more force than any human’s—it nearly landed directly on Mu Tianbai’s back.
Meanwhile, Zhou Qi’an had already darted into the office to seek shelter.
“Sir,” he gasped for breath, “thank—thank you for saving my life! I’ll repay you however I can!”
Even as he spoke of gratitude, Zhou Qi’an’s eyes lingered on the old man’s prayer beads and silver whistle.
Which one was the protective charm?
It seemed the old man had been waiting for this very line. He turned his face toward Zhou Qi’an, eyes narrowing slightly, and for some inexplicable reason, a wave of disgust surfaced in his expression.
Before that feeling could spread, a small blade suddenly whizzed between the two of them.
The old man’s head snapped toward the doorway. He bellowed at the monster, “Kill him! Have all the dark forces I’ve been cultivating gone to waste?!”
Finally, Mu Tianbai made a mistake. The monster’s claws were already closing in on his throat, and the old man’s face lit up with joy.
But then—a sudden gust of wind swept past.
No, not wind—just a person moving at an unimaginable speed.
While the old man was focused on the doorway, Zhou Qi’an seized the opportunity to yank the prayer beads from his wrist.
[Clue hint: You have discovered the protective charm.]
Zhou Qi’an’s eyes lit up. So this was it.
The beads’ surface had been worn smooth, a sign that they had never left the old man’s hand. As they scattered to the floor with a loud clatter, Zhou Qi’an grabbed a table leg and smashed down hard. Several beads were crushed instantly.
The old man’s eyes widened in fury.
Each bead had a specific purpose, a unique origin—losing even one would ruin everything.
“Run!” Mu Tianbai commanded.
Zhou Qi’an seized the opportunity to ram into the old man, attempting to break through the door and escape.
At the very moment he rushed out, he hesitated for an instant, then swiftly detoured back to snatch a book from the desk before making his getaway.
It was the only item in the office that had a relatively clean surrounding—something about it felt off.
[Clue obtained – Qimen Journal x1]
Because of this, Zhou Qi’an was a fraction of a second too slow. The summoned monster had already returned, blocking the doorway, its terrifying form lunging straight for his face.
At this critical moment, the College student, who had just regained consciousness, somehow found the courage to throw a punch. His strength was nowhere near enough to harm the monster; instead, his own fist swelled red from the impact.
Still, this insignificant struggle bought Zhou Qi’an a brief window to escape. With a sharp pivot, he slipped past at an impossible angle and dashed out.
“What’s going on?!”
The college student, now in full survival mode, ran for his life right behind him.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t respond.
—Rewind to a short while earlier.
Not long after the baseball cap appeared, Zhou Qi’an had first glanced at Mu Tianbai’s shadow, then softly uttered two words: “Double act.”
He trusted that Mu Tianbai, with his intelligence, would immediately understand.
Sure enough, Mu Tianbai’s shadow began to shift slightly, discreetly slipping a ring into the baseball cap’s pocket.
A silent agreement to cooperate by transferring the stolen item.
The owner of Jinxiang Tower hadn’t yet been torn apart by the ghost woman—meaning he was no easy target.
Zhou Qi’an carried a natural “debuff” that made him repulsive to the building’s owner. If he wanted to destroy the protective charm, the best strategy was for one person to draw fire while the other struck at the right moment.
A double act—one playing the bad cop, the other the good cop—was the most effective way to leave the building’s owner no time to react.
The plan was flawless, except for one problem: the escape.
The nearest emergency exit flickered with a green safety sign, but it was still some distance away. Meanwhile, the monster was closing in, now only two or three meters behind them. Zhou Qi’an could even smell the putrid stench wafting from it as they ran.
Zhou Qi’an tossed the book he had grabbed to Mu Tianbai. “I’ll lead the monster away. Take him to the fourth floor—you’ll find more clues there.”
The College student’s entire face had now become eerily androgynous. Without close scrutiny, it was hard to tell him apart from the long-haired girl in black.
This strange form of “delayed execution” clearly had a deeper cause. If they could find just one more clue, they might uncover the past of Jinxiang Tower.
Without another word, Zhou Qi’an gritted his teeth and veered toward another corridor.
Mu Tianbai glanced down at the book in his hand, lost in thought for a moment.
The path Zhou Qi’an had taken held its own dangers. The elevator area was also unsafe. Behind them, the vicious monster was closing in—no matter how one looked at it, this was a dead end.
They were mere acquaintances. If Zhou Qi’an ended up dying, Mu Tianbai could simply remain on the 18th floor and reap the rewards.
But…
Under the dim glow of the emergency evacuation sign, his blood-red eyes flickered like ghostly flames.
Something crossed his mind. His expression remained unreadable as he finally spoke. “Forget it. We’re going to the fourth floor.”
Clearly, he had decided not to get involved in whatever was happening on the 18th floor.
The College student hesitated for a moment. Mu Tianbai’s voice turned icy: “If you don’t want to die, don’t look back.”
“I swear I won’t!” the student blurted.
“…”
In life-or-death situations, it wasn’t about who could fight better—it was about who could run faster.
He had a terrible feeling that Brother Zhou was dragging them all straight to hell.
Countless faces flashed through his mind—the administrator, the baseball cap, the origami boy, the red cloak… Like a spinning carousel, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly who the real danger was.
So he just ran faster.
—
Meanwhile, on the other side, Zhou Qi’an was moments away from being caught by the monster.
Remaining calm, he summoned the white silk ribbon, eyeing the suspended plants at an angle. It seemed he intended to use them as a foothold to swing himself to the next level.
But before he could act, a red figure appeared out of nowhere, shattering his concentration.
It was the missing Red Cloak.
“You sure know how to hold back.”
A smile blossomed on the woman’s snow-white face. “Even now, you refuse to use your holy relic.”
She gripped a curved blade, chuckling softly. “Let me guess—using it even once comes with a steep price, doesn’t it?”
The stronger an artifact was, the harsher the game’s restrictions.
Red Cloak stood less than ten meters ahead of him, while the monster behind relentlessly pursued. Even though Zhou Qi’an knew she wasn’t here with good intentions, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and keep running forward.
Earlier, the old man had given verbal commands, proving that the monster could understand human speech. Seizing this, Zhou Qi’an deliberately raised his voice in feigned surprise. “Perfect! You came to cover me!”
Red Cloak’s smile didn’t waver—she didn’t even move.
The stench of rot from behind him faded slightly, replaced by the furious howls of a trapped beast. Zhou Qi’an turned his head and momentarily froze—
The savage monster had been ensnared in an enormous net by a man and a woman.
One of them was the most inconspicuous player from the bus, while the other had been in the same vehicle as Red Cloak. Both had the same cold expressions. After successfully restraining the monster, they stood silently on either side.
Zhou Qi’an narrowed his eyes. “They’re your people?”
Their obedience was impressive.
Red Cloak, still holding her blade, approached. Her silent presence was far more oppressive than the baseball cap’s ever was.
Zhou Qi’an took a step back—only to find someone else behind him.
“Those two players died so quickly. I doubt that has nothing to do with you.”
The so-called recruitment for exploration in the cafeteria had merely been a cover to conceal the true purpose of coming to this floor—to seize the holy relic.
This kind of ploy had to remain a secret. The method? Randomly selecting players as sacrificial pawns to test the top-floor rules, then disposing of them after use. A ruthless approach.
“They were quite useful.”
Had those two not triggered the evil spirit first, and had she not used her ability to slow the players down and make them the primary targets, she wouldn’t have been able to get away unscathed.
Red Cloak said, “Ten seconds. Hand over the holy relic willingly, and I’ll let you live.”
Zhou Qi’an scoffed. “And then have your people kill me right after?”
So, she wanted to play word games too?
“Eight… Seven…” Red Cloak cut the countdown short by two seconds.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze flickered.
She could tell he was scheming something. Red Cloak shook her head slightly. “In the face of absolute power, no amount of trickery matters.”
Her eyes gleamed with the hunger of a butcher surveying fresh meat. She pondered where to strike first, confident that soon he’d be caught in a state between life and death—forced to surrender.
Zhou Qi’an stopped retreating and opened his mouth to speak. But Red Cloak didn’t waste words—her blade swung directly toward his arm.
At the last moment, Zhou Qi’an tilted his head down, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.
His eerie calm made Red Cloak hesitate mid-swing.
Something wasn’t right.
Why was there not a trace of fear on his face?
With his head lowered, his voice became even quieter. “To be honest, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”
Red Cloak didn’t quite catch his words, but the growing sense of unease intensified.
Suddenly, Zhou Qi’an raised his head and clenched his fist, crushing the glowstone hidden in his palm.
[You have used Glowstone x1.]
[Unspeakable quality, unspeakable warrior.]
[Wishing you an exhilarating experience.]
In certain cases, the game would use honorifics—either when a player was about to commit a spectacular act of self-destruction or when they obtained something truly valuable.
Zhou Qi’an fell into the former category. A natural-born arsonist, it seemed he enjoyed not only burning down manors but also playing with fire himself.
Almost instantly, the potted plants suspended nearby erupted with grotesque, blood-soaked creatures. Their limbs were like geckos’, and upon sensing the presence of the living, they all twisted and scrambled forward like deformed alien monstrosities.
Red Cloak’s expression changed.
In her prior investigation, Zhou Qi’an was just a newcomer. How did a newbie possess a catastrophe-tier item like this?!
“Surprised? Excited?” Zhou Qi’an seized the moment of her shock to pull away, keeping out of her blade’s reach.
He wasn’t a philanthropist. From the very beginning of their “cooperation,” he had never intended to let Han Li participate for free.
Han Li had obtained the Glowstone from her brother and then gifted it to Zhou Qi’an as a token of goodwill.
The only function of this item was summoning ghosts—essentially useless unless someone was willing to sacrifice themselves to draw aggro. Only then could it serve a purpose.
Zhou Qi’an glanced toward the emergency exit and chuckled. “Not bad.”
He had already given away the clue. If Mu Tianbai still insisted on staying behind to reap the benefits, he wouldn’t end well.
The swarm of grotesque abominations surged forward from the potted plants—far more than expected.
Bang!
The railing shattered. One of the leading creatures landed with an eerie blur, lunging at its prey.
These monsters attacked indiscriminately.
Zhou Qi’an swiftly swung the small hammer he had just acquired, striking the monster with a force amplified by its heavy weight. The impact sent the creature flying a short distance.
Red Cloak also decapitated a monster with a single slash.
These newly emerged creatures were weaker compared to the zombie-like monster nurtured by the building’s owner.
But there were too many of them!
At this moment, the sharp killing intent in Red Cloak’s eyes wasn’t just directed at the creatures—it was entirely aimed at Zhou Qi’an.
She had been hand-picked and mentored by powerful figures from the moment she entered the game, rising to the rank of second-in-command in the association. No one had ever “set her up” like this.
“Want to fight?”
Before she could act, Zhou Qi’an had already sidled up beside her. A burst of golden light flashed—though in daylight, it wasn’t particularly conspicuous.
A holy relic!
Only a holy relic could emit such an oppressive aura.
A flicker of greed flashed in Red Cloak’s eyes.
But before her gaze could fully ignite with fervor, Zhou Qi’an used the relic’s power to momentarily stun the creatures, preparing to break through.
The elevator was too far. The potted plants’ direction was blocked by monsters. That left only one remaining path—the automatic escalator, its safety warning sign indicating it was out of service.
The escalator wouldn’t be any less dangerous, but compared to the horrors of nighttime, it was a slightly better option.
Zhou Qi’an quickly simulated his route in his mind.
Red Cloak let out a cold laugh. A wisp of purple smoke coiled around Zhou Qi’an’s wrist like a snake.
The targeted poison skill’s effectiveness against players was less than one percent of its effect on monsters. However, even this minuscule amount of energy was enough to momentarily weaken Zhou Qi’an, causing him to miss his chance to escape.
His gaze turned cold as he reversed his grip and drove the holy relic straight through a monster’s chest.
Lost 40 HP!
But the sheer power of this strike was overwhelming, successfully redirecting the swarm of monsters to prioritize attacking Red Cloak instead.
In the distance, at least seven or eight more creatures leaped over the railing, their crimson flesh quivering violently with their movements.
Zhou Qi’an locked onto the gaps between the monsters. He could use the holy relic one more time at most, but after that, he would have to sprint non-stop toward the diagonally behind him—the automatic escalator.
This maneuver required perfect timing.
There was no room for error.
“President…” Behind her, Red Cloak’s two trusted subordinates, usually composed, now showed panic. There were too many monsters—even they weren’t a match for them, especially after capturing one in the net earlier and drawing immense aggro.
One of them let out a miserable scream as he was quickly overwhelmed, while the other was completely surrounded.
Red Cloak couldn’t spare them any attention.
She had inevitably been injured—the cloak was torn, and several deep, bone-revealing gashes marked her arm. She cast a sideways glare, locking onto Zhou Qi’an with deadly intent.
“President, save me!”
Before the last syllable could escape, the man’s throat was ripped open. His carotid artery burst, spraying blood in all directions—attracting even more monsters.
Now!
Zhou Qi’an’s entire body tensed, ready to launch into an all-out sprint—yet he still wore a relaxed smile.
He wondered: after this life-or-death game, who would be the first to descend into hell?
Either way, he wouldn’t lose. Red Cloak had sacrificed two subordinates and was gravely injured herself.
Unable to stop him now, she let out a furious, mocking laugh. “I told you, in the face of absolute power, all tricks are useless. They’re dead, and you won’t live either.”
She didn’t believe that, in his current physical state, he could make it down the escalator alive.
Zhou Qi’an smirked. “Wanna bet?”
Both sides were on the verge of erupting into action—
And then, in that blood-soaked corridor, a new figure appeared.
A polished, high-end leather shoe stomped down hard on a monster’s head. In an instant, putrid fluid splattered everywhere. The foot’s owner casually twisted their heel, crushing the creature’s skull into a pulpy mess.
It was someone Zhou Qi’an absolutely hadn’t expected.
The newcomer’s features were refined and scholarly, but his unnaturally pale complexion gave him an eerily cold presence.
In their dying moments, Red Cloak’s subordinates’ pupils dilated slightly—unable to tell if they were looking at a human or a ghost.
Under the stunned gazes of the players, the boss stepped toward Zhou Qi’an.
“Why did you disappear during overtime?”
“I heard that people who die here also die outside. You’re trying to scam us for workers’ compensation, aren’t you?”
“Did you finish the proposal? I’m asking you—did. You. Finish. It?”
Loosening his neatly tied tie slightly, the boss effortlessly crushed the throat of an approaching monster.
Before their eyes, flesh and blood visibly oozed from his palm.
Red Cloak’s eyelid twitched involuntarily.
Zhou Qi’an also swallowed slightly before glancing at her. “What was it you just said?”
Red Cloak: “…”
