What was the last sentence? Amidst the terrifying transformation, Red Cloak could no longer remember clearly. It took two seconds for her memory to return, and she only vaguely recalled one sentence: Absolute strength could sweep away everything.
A monster’s brain matter splattered between the two of them, making both of them involuntarily twitch their eyelids.
The boss, ever polite, said, “Look at this—doesn’t it resemble a painter’s palette?”
A palette that could be used to paint posters.
Zhou Qi’an’s brain was about to crash. Luckily, he wasn’t alone in this. Never in a single day had Red Cloak displayed such intense facial expressions.
But right now, she truly couldn’t control herself.
Who was this man? He possessed overwhelming strength, yet he still looked human.
She had never seen him before, so she ruled out the possibility of him being a player.
No…
Red Cloak’s eyes darkened. Just this morning, the game had announced that a new player had joined. Combining that with what the man had just said—no matter how unbelievable it sounded—there was only one possible conclusion.
At this moment, Zhou Qi’an finally snapped out of his state of shock. His first words immediately established the situation:
“You… you chased me all the way here just to make me go back to work?”
He was starting to believe in sixth-senseS intuition.
Ever since he had dreamed about his damn boss last night, it had been a bad omen!
No—a death omen.
Why was his boss so strong? Stronger than even his own mother, by far.
Zhou Qi’an’s mind raced.
When he had chosen his evolutionary path in the first instance, there had been a system prompt: [Instance entrance has been closed]. That meant his mother had entered illegally, and her strength was likely suppressed. But his boss was different—he had entered through the proper instance entrance, recognized by the game as a legitimate player.
After all his thoughts converged, only one sentence remained:
This is no place to stay.
Zhou Qi’an glanced to the side.
The boss had come from the direction of the elevator, so the monsters near that area should have been mostly cleared out.
He tried to shift behind Red Cloak, using her as cover while slowly making his way toward the elevator.
Red Cloak refused to let him get close. Since the newcomer knew the young man, she didn’t dare to kill him outright. She sidestepped to avoid him.
“Putting on a two-person act, are you?” The boss smiled and casually crushed another monster’s brain core with his bare hand.
More monsters surged forward, and the blood-red deformed creatures that had previously hesitated began their attack.
Taking advantage of the boss drawing attention, Zhou Qi’an gathered his courage and threw out a parting threat:
“You just wait! I’m going to find a place to work overtime right now!”
With that, he bolted without looking back.
Human potential was limitless.
At this moment, he forgot about the wound on his back, forgot the dizziness from blood loss, and exploded with superhuman speed.
Behind him, the boss pulled out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and casually wiped the blood off his hand. His gaze turned ice-cold as he watched the retreating figure in the distance.
Run? Do you think you can escape?
Lifting his leg, he sent another monster flying with a kick.
…
After successfully breaking through the monster blockade, Zhou Qi’an swiftly put away his holy relic and took out the white silk ribbon for self-defense.
The further he ran, the graver his expression became. Scattered on the ground were a few bright red petals, and on the floral wallpaper, several holes had appeared—as if someone had forcibly torn out the mischievous flowers hidden inside.
Zhou Qi’an could already imagine the scene of his boss mercilessly destroying them.
His boss was a walking time bomb in the instance. Zhou Qi’an suspected that sooner or later, he would be caught in the explosion.
Chasing closely behind him was Red Cloak. Somehow, she had also managed to escape. She ran while pressing down on her bleeding arm to stop the bleeding.
Even she hadn’t expected to make it out. But as she ran, her face darkened even further.
The way that terrifying man acted just now was exactly the same as what she had done last night—deliberately leaving an opening, letting people escape, resolving the main conflict, and then taking time later to extract personal value.
As she thought about this, she couldn’t help but recall Baseball Cap. Unfortunately, she hadn’t accomplished her final objective—her troubles were still unresolved, and she had failed to obtain the holy relic.
But now, the opportunity was right in front of her.
Just as she harbored ill intentions, Zhou Qi’an—who was about to reach the elevator—suddenly stopped without warning.
The white silk ribbon was just as cunning as its master. It struck first, successfully restraining Red Cloak for a brief moment while she was still tending to her wound. His other hand raised a small hammer high.
“Thank you for teaching me a lesson,” Zhou Qi’an said with a smile as he tightened the white silk ribbon. “Some players don’t care if killing others makes the instance harder, do they?”
“And besides—since we’re already enemies…” He parted his lips, his words carrying a deeper meaning:
“If you’ve already done something bad on the first day, don’t give others a chance to do it again on the fifteenth.”
Red Cloak saw her own reflection in the icy blue pupils of the glasses. She forcefully broke free with one hand, causing her hastily bandaged wound to split open and bleed again.
With one hand freed, she didn’t hesitate—she immediately drew her blade. The smooth arc of the curved blade gleamed sharply in midair.
This scene fell into the eyes of Baseball Cap, who was hiding near the elevator. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, habitually twisting the skull ring on his finger.
An unexpected delight.
Baseball Cap had been dragged into an illusion by a rampaging vengeful spirit. Yet, at the critical moment, a mysterious man had appeared and actually forced the spirit back.
Now, watching Zhou Qi’an and Red Cloak turn on each other, Baseball Cap thought to himself, This is a heaven-sent opportunity.
No matter who won, it would be a pyrrhic victory. He only needed to strike from the shadows.
Arrogance leads to a moment of carelessness.
The white silk ribbon entangling Red Cloak suddenly withdrew entirely. Just as her curved blade was about to slash Zhou Qi’an’s neck, its wielder abruptly changed the attack’s direction.
The blade was flung out with precision. It arced through the air in a deadly trajectory—its new target: Baseball Cap.
They were already close in distance. Moreover, after last night’s injuries and his failed attempt to frame Zhou Qi’an, Baseball Cap had paid a steep price to escape from the Metal Man.
The curved blade’s speed and power far surpassed that of any ordinary weapon.
A brief, sharp pain pierced his chest. Baseball Cap let out a muffled groan, his eyes still flickering with disbelief as he looked down.
Impossible.
How could he die so easily? He…
Baseball Cap wanted to say something, but Red Cloak despised unnecessary chatter. She simply yanked out the blade, lifted the dying man, and threw him toward a floating potted plant in midair.
The monsters, drawn by the scent of blood, immediately pounced and tore him apart.
Red Cloak’s strike had not been instantly fatal—Baseball Cap met his end in the jaws of the monsters. In such a case, the game’s punishment ruling would be less severe.
She turned around, her gaze cold. “You’ve got some nerve.”
Their previous cooperation had only lasted for a fleeting moment, yet Zhou Qi’an’s brief glance had been enough for her to understand his intent. However, what she hadn’t expected was that when he retracted the white silk ribbon, he had fully taken it back—as if he wasn’t even worried that her blade might have actually gone for his neck.
“Sometimes in life, you have to take a few small risks.” Zhou Qi’an suddenly said with a meaningful tone.
The white silk ribbon, which had just withdrawn, flicked toward the direction where Baseball Cap had been thrown. When it returned, it carried something light.
No dropped loot?
Just as disappointment settled in, the ribbon shook, and a skull ring fell out.
Zhou Qi’an caught it. He had just felt a surge of joy when he noticed Red Cloak wasn’t trying to snatch it, instantly dampening his excitement by half.
Baseball Cap had worn this ring at all times, so he must have considered it a treasure. Or was it not?
The system was always the best identifier:
[Skull Ring: Can roughly assess a player’s body evolution level. Can absorb a small amount of Yin energy within a limited range.]
Unlike traditional game items, the description was rather vague, and there was no indication of item quality.
Zhou Qi’an slipped the ring onto his finger to test it, and another line of small text appeared:
[A symbolic item of the Black Magic Society.]
No wonder Red Cloak wasn’t interested. Without any change in expression, he quietly put the ring away.
The Black Magic Society was undoubtedly a colossal organization. Since he had already made enemies with them, this item might prove useful in the future.
The two entered the elevator, and the cabin began descending.
In the cramped space, Red Cloak’s killing intent remained strong as she plotted a second opportunity to strike.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t even need to look up to know what she was thinking. He half-closed his eyes and said, “You’re out of time.”
With the commotion in midair, it would be impossible for other players not to notice. Naturally, some of them would come up to investigate. Of course, they wouldn’t go all the way to the eighteenth floor—at most, they’d wait on the sixteenth or seventeenth. As long as they saw whoever survived first, that was enough.
Then, whether through cooperation or coercion, there were always ways to extract information.
The elevator stopped at the sixteenth floor.
Outside, just as expected, players were waiting—and not just one, but several gathered together.
Due to excessive blood loss, Zhou Qi’an’s breathing grew more labored, and his body seemed on the verge of collapse. Yet every word he spoke, every precise prediction he made, sent chills down Red Cloak’s spine.
Leaning against the elevator wall, he took the initiative to speak to those outside:
“I’m willing to share some information for free.”
The players lying in wait were nothing if not pragmatic.
“Are you okay?”
Someone immediately stepped forward to offer support, gently helping him out while thoughtfully providing medicine to stop the bleeding.
This person was exceptionally considerate, carefully positioning themselves in front of Zhou Qi’an as they assisted him out—ensuring that Red Cloak wouldn’t have the chance to harm him.
“Take it slow,” they said, their tone unbelievably kind.
“Do you want some water?” someone else asked considerately.
Their first choice for cooperation was undoubtedly this young man. The Little Red Riding Hood Association, much like the Black Magic Society, was notorious for its vengeance—no one wanted to make deals with a tiger.
Besides, the young man was being incredibly tactful, taking the initiative to show his stance.
Injured, and having lost two subordinates, no matter how arrogant Red Cloak was, she wouldn’t recklessly provoke a fight now.
Her venomous gaze lingered on the group, her thoughts unreadable, but her expression was terrifyingly cold.
Zhou Qi’an suddenly tilted his face slightly. A streak of blood—whose, he didn’t know—was smeared on his pale cheek. He mouthed the words slowly and deliberately:
Come and kill me if you dare.
Red Cloak clenched both hands tightly.
Only after the elevator doors fully closed, ensuring that one crisis was temporarily averted, did Zhou Qi’an finally withdraw his gaze with a slight smile.
He then looked at the players in front of him. “If you don’t trust the information I’m about to share, you’re welcome to use a contract item.”
“You can just speak,” a gentle voice responded.
The players made way, and a woman walked toward them. Her appearance and demeanor were warm and approachable. The fact that the others were following her lead showed that she had been the one to gather them.
Zhou Qi’an tried to recall any details about her but found that his memory of her was sparse.
Among the female players from the second vehicle, Red Cloak had made the biggest impression, overshadowing everyone else.
Zhou Qi’an took a moment to organize his thoughts before speaking:
“The one extorting the merchants is a female ghost. She holds a grudge against the building’s owner. The owner is still alive and seems to have found a way to raise multiple ghosts to fight against her.”
He omitted many details. Some players wanted to ask for more specifics, but the woman raised a hand to stop them.
“So, no matter which side wins, the other won’t let the players live, correct?”
Zhou Qi’an nodded.
They were here to deal with ghosts. The female ghost wouldn’t just sit back and let herself be killed, and the building’s owner certainly wouldn’t allow them to expose the crimes of this place.
The woman sighed. “This is troublesome. The building owner’s trump card is ghosts.”
The surrounding players didn’t take this well.
They understood exactly what she meant. Under normal game mechanics, they should have been able to obtain tools from the building owner to counterbalance the female ghost and eventually take down both sides.
An experienced player, his tone laced with unease, even began hoping that Zhou Qi’an was lying.
The woman, however, showed no signs of doubt. She simply looked at Zhou Qi’an and asked directly, “Who do you think will win?”
“The female ghost,” Zhou Qi’an replied. “Because I’m on her side.”
Though the eye on the mission panel had disappeared when he destroyed the protective talisman, there was no harm in saying a few more good words about her. Zhou Qi’an even took the opportunity to praise the female ghost a little.
The woman considered this for a moment. “Then we can only wait for them to tear each other apart, or…”
“…Or find the female ghost’s body. If the building owner dies first, we can work together to force her into passing on.”
Zhou Qi’an froze. “Force her into passing on?”
The woman looked slightly surprised that he didn’t know. “I have a method, but it requires her body to be intact.”
The likelihood of that was high. She had definitely died within the building. Dismembering her would have been unnecessary and would have increased the risk of discovery.
As she spoke, she glanced at a nearby player, who handed over a bag of medicine.
“Make sure to take antibiotics and anti-inflammatory meds. If you trust me, I can bandage your wounds for you—I’m a doctor in real life.”
Zhou Qi’an stared at the bag. Where did this come from?
“There’s a pharmacy in the building. You can get supplies by completing missions.” Seeing his curiosity, the woman explained, then continued, “As a gesture of good faith for our cooperation, we’re willing to provide you with an item for free.”
She then took out a contract item—the foundation of all player cooperation.
Surprisingly, she only set a single condition: that they wouldn’t deliberately betray each other.
Zhou Qi’an gave her a long, searching look.
The woman asked directly, “What kind of item do you need?”
“Speed,” Zhou Qi’an answered without hesitation.
The woman turned and discussed briefly with the other players. Whatever method they used to distribute it, in the end, Zhou Qi’an received a small vial of potion.
*[Merlin Potion 1]
Volume: 0.5ml
Usage Instructions: Recommended dosage: 2–3 drops per use. Increases movement speed by 20% for 15 seconds.
Medical-type items only came with descriptions; they didn’t display quality ratings.
The group had thought through everything. Zhou Qi’an had no reason to refuse, so he didn’t.
He extended his hand. “Zhou Qi’an.”
Unlike in his first instance, he didn’t bother using a fake name—it wasn’t necessary.
The woman shook his hand. “Bai Chanyi. Just call me Chanyi.”
Zhou Qi’an didn’t let her bandage him. He simply took the medicine and left.
On the sixteenth floor, after the elevator doors closed—
A player hesitated. “Weren’t our terms too generous?”
Someone who didn’t even know about forced transcendence was probably a newcomer who hadn’t entered many instances. Most likely, he was a rookie.
Bai Chanyi’s smile faded, and she said calmly, “Whether he’s a newbie or not, he made it down from the eighteenth floor alive.”
That alone meant he was worth working with.
Switching topics, Bai Chanyi continued, “This is also a good opportunity to test his character.”
Excessive pressure would only backfire.
The value of the Sailfish Potion far exceeded the information Zhou Qi’an had provided so far. If he had even a shred of decency, he would likely offer more clues in future interactions of his own accord.
But if the young man remained completely indifferent, then he wasn’t worth trusting.
And people who weren’t worth trusting or cooperating with had no reason to exist.
“That’s right. Whether he’s a newbie or not doesn’t matter,” another player, a sweet-looking young woman, suddenly spoke. “That night, I personally saw him transporting corpses via the elevator.”
Corpses weren’t exactly uncommon.
Someone was about to speak, but the female player cut them off coldly. “Don’t argue with me. That was the freight elevator. The bodies belonged to both monsters and humans.”
“??”
“Uh…” Another player hesitantly spoke up. “Did you guys forget? The one who got thrown mid-air to feed the monsters earlier seemed to be a high-ranking member of the Black Magic Society. Not long after, those two came down.”
They had witnessed it with their own eyes.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Compared to the somewhat familiar Red Cloak, this unknown young man felt even more unsettling.
Bai Chanyi sighed lightly. “A Black Magic Society member dying at the hands of a supposed ‘newbie’… Who knows what kind of uproar that will cause?”
Zhou Qi’an.
The players silently memorized the name—but more importantly, they committed his appearance to memory. Once they left this place, they would sketch his likeness and inform their respective associations. If they encountered him in the future, they needed to be cautious.
Suddenly, the elevator doors opened again, making everyone jump.
A well-dressed man stepped out, his tie nearly soaked through with blood, but his polite demeanor remained intact. “Hello, have you seen a young man with black-framed glasses? Looks rather honest.”
Earlier, when the elevator had gone up, Bai Chanyi hadn’t interfered with the button presses, assuming it was just another player heading up to explore.
So she had never crossed paths with the boss before.
Now, looking at the man, with bits of monster flesh still clinging to his shoulder, it wasn’t hard to imagine how ruthless he was.
“Hello.” The boss spoke again, even more gently than before. “Have you seen him?”
In the tense silence, the sweet-looking female player behind Bai Chanyi said, “He just went down.”
If this man was here to cause trouble, he would run into Zhou Qi’an sooner or later. There was no need to provoke such a terrifying figure now.
But the female player felt a twinge of guilt and added, “The person you’re looking for… he’s very strong.”
The implication was clear—it was best not to start a conflict.
The boss paused, his hand hovering over the elevator control panel. Then he smiled and asked, “How strong?”
The players each added a few words, vividly and horrifyingly describing the scene of Zhou Qi’an transporting corpses that night, hoping to instill some fear in the man before them.
“I see. Thank you—I had no idea.”
He only knew that someone had repeatedly avoided the company’s annual sports event for two years, citing post-surgery heart issues.
Last month, that same person had sprained his ankle while helping move some office supplies downstairs—and even managed to claim workers’ compensation for it.
And now, that very same person could run, carry, fight, and even come up with such an impressive game strategy on top of designing templates for the company?
“…Truly an outstanding employee.”
As the elevator doors slowly closed, the boss’s shadowed face disappeared from view.
—
Freight Elevator Corpse King. Serial Killer. The Most Ruthless Newbie in History…
Every player had their own nickname.
At this moment, Zhou Qi’an was completely unaware of the countless labels being placed on him behind his back.
He was also unaware that, in just a short while, he would be noticed by all the major guilds.
He only knew that his boss had arrived.
“…I’m screwed.”
Since earlier, he had been pressing hard on the philtrum between his nose and upper lip.
He needed to find that college student—and run faster than him.
As his mind raced through possible countermeasures, one thing remained clear: regardless of the situation, the special mission had been completed, yet the system had yet to issue his reward.
Dressed in a bloodstained white shirt, Zhou Qi’an arrived on the third floor. His gaze darkened as he looked toward the distant Jin Taotao’s Bone Rice Shop.
Female ghost, give me back my hard-earned money.
—
Author’s Note:
Zhou Qi’an: Find the college student. Outrun him.
College student: …
Zhou Qi’an: Don’t worry, you have labor laws on your side.
