Zhou Qi’an took the dining knife, his expression unreadable.
Seeing that Zhou Qi’an hadn’t melted into cream but instead stood before him, knife raised high, the sterilization suit was momentarily disappointed. But soon, he became excited again.
“Good, very good… That makes you a witness to the wedding as well…”
Beneath the chef’s uniform, the already broken, blood-red flesh twisted and wriggled, reflecting its owner’s excitement.
His legs were bound by slender black shadows, yet the sterilization suit made little effort to resist. Excited, the foul-smelling corpse fluid dripped continuously.
Zhou Qi’an endured the nauseating stench and suddenly asked, “If you loved Jin Zhi so much, why did you ignore her death?”
A harsh, grating laugh filled the air.
Even through the mask, Zhou Qi’an could sense the eerie grin curling upwards.
“She left the village—sooner or later, she would have become someone else’s wife.” The sterilization suit’s laughter sent chills down the spine, and he even pushed his rotting, flesh-stacked chest toward the tip of the knife.
Jin Zhi had never looked at him before she broadened her horizons—let alone after going to university.
The sterilization suit turned to gaze at the cake, the true source of his excitement.
Zhou Qi’an suddenly noticed something—the small decorative figurine atop the cake was wearing an excessively elaborate dress. Normally, the bride figurine would have her hand extended, meant to hold that of her partner. But on this cake, the spot beside her was still empty.
This wasn’t a birthday cake—it was a wedding cake.
“Welcome… to my wedding,” the sterilization suit cackled madly, eager to complete the beautiful ceremony of his fantasies.
The wedding cake was ready. It was a modern-style wedding, just as Jin Zhi had liked.
Beneath the skull caps brought by the players, dark shadows gathered in humanoid shapes. Under the red candlelight, all of them glared toward this direction with venomous hatred, their souls unable to find peace.
This was their wedding. Many from the village had come to celebrate.
Listening any longer was unbearable. Zhou Qi’an’s expression turned cold as he forcefully pressed the knife downward.
Rotting corpse fluid, fermented over years, burst forth. The blade plunged deep until it struck something hard, and only then did Zhou Qi’an stop.
A system notification popped up:
[Dear guest, congratulations on finding the second cake first.]
[Most Precious Gift * Heart of Distorted Love, now presented.]
[Heart of Love: A parasitic entity that can indirectly enhance the player’s bodily evolution.
Please note: Once parasitized, the new host may be influenced by the original owner’s personality.]
Zhou Qi’an felt as if he had swallowed a thousand flies.
A heart?
More like filth. What was this? A garbage disposal service? Did he look like a recycling bin for things like this?
But in this game, whether a gift was given or taken, the players’ opinions never mattered.
[“Heart of Love is attempting to parasitize…”]
[“Ssssss…”]
[“Parasitization failed.”]
[“Your Five-Star Fish Eye is devouring the Heart of Love…”]
[“Love is gone. The heart is gone.”]
The Heart of Love was completely consumed, leaving the Five-Star Fish Eye to reap all the benefits.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t feel like he had lost anything. In fact, he felt relieved—this was the first time he understood why some people refused to accept organ donations from executed criminals.
He quickly checked his status panel.
His heart was still in its initial evolutionary state, but now, a faint fluorescence shimmered over the text.
Below it, a new [+] button had appeared. When he clicked it, a small row of text surfaced:
[Dispersed energy has further strengthened the skin, lungs, and other organs.]
[Enhanced resistance to extreme temperatures.]
[Cold Resistance: You can maintain a constant body temperature in all seasons unless exposed to extreme temperature differences.]
[Heat Resistance: You can endure higher temperatures and adapt to water temperatures up to 66°C, allowing prolonged survival in such conditions.]
When Zhou Qi’an looked up again, the sterilization suit was gone.
The dining knife stabbed empty air, the only reminder that everything hadn’t been a dream being the rotting flesh still clinging to the blade.
A violent coughing fit from the Red Cloak made Zhou Qi’an turn around.
The woman was clutching her neck. In that instant, to escape being strangled, she had cut through the tie with the knife. The fabric wasn’t thick to begin with, and in her struggle, she hadn’t been able to control her strength, accidentally leaving a bloody gash on her own throat.
After breaking free, the Red Cloak swiftly retreated, not lingering in the cafeteria.
His boss couldn’t be bothered to chase after her. He lazily yawned, already looking for a place to nap.
He liked making his employees work overtime, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it himself.
Before leaving, he even took the time to warn Zhou Qi’an, “If I were you, I’d start drafting another plan in advance. The client will never approve the first version.”
Zhou Qi’an forced a smile and nodded, catching something in his peripheral vision—the top of the multi-layered cake now had an additional small figurine dressed in a white suit.
The sterilization suit had turned into yet another cake decoration. Beneath him was a tiny cake, and he stood atop it, gazing affectionately at the bride figurine.
That angle of adoration didn’t last long.
Zhou Qi’an walked over, raised the knife, and sliced it down the middle, splitting the two figurines apart.
At first, the knife cut through easily, but when the two decorations were fully separated, the figurine that had been the sterilization suit suddenly radiated intense resentment. The red velvet cake began seeping copious amounts of fresh blood. The blood spread across the floor, seeping beneath Zhou Qi’an’s shoes, bringing an ominous feeling.
“Enough.”
Someone was about to stop him, but Zhou Qi’an shot them a cold glance. “If we don’t cut it, are you planning to serve the whole thing as is?”
No one could go empty-handed to wish the birthday celebrant well.
The person opened their mouth, but in the end, remained silent.
After separating the figurines, Zhou Qi’an let go and took a slice. “You guys divide the rest.”
Bai Chanyi stepped forward, took the knife, and began cutting the cake.
[Wedding Cake: A cake made from monster brain matter, hippocampi, bone ash, and other ingredients. Contains immense energy.]
Just as Zhou Qi’an finished reading the automatically displayed system message, a deafening crash from the eighteenth floor made every player present freeze for a moment. The noise was growing in intensity.
Based on the sound, Zhou Qi’an vaguely guessed that the potted plants suspended from the dome were falling one by one.
On this special day, the female ghost had finally launched her revenge against the true culprit. Her vengeful curses echoed through the building.
However, from the intermittent laughter of the old man, it was clear that in this clash of ghosts, the female ghost was at a disadvantage.
The eighteenth floor housed many monsters. What Zhou Qi’an had seen during the day was only a fraction—the truly powerful ones only came out at night.
A player immediately said, “With the power of the cake, the female ghost should be able to stand against the building’s owner. We should secretly find her corpse and forcefully exorcise her at the last moment.”
Everyone quickened their pace toward the escalators.
The power was out, so the elevators weren’t working. The mission instructions had provided a set route to go up, which meant the stairwell was no longer safe.
The escalator had become the only passage.
Finally, they could deliver the cake, but Zhou Qi’an still felt that something was off.
Bai Chanyi approached him. “Based on the diary’s clues and what the conjoined old woman said, the corpse should be hidden in an office. But it’s hard to say how much of her words we can trust.”
Thunder rumbled endlessly outside.
A college student sighed enviously. “I wish I could be like those customers downstairs and just go home.”
Zhou Qi’an suddenly halted mid-step. Something seemed to click in his mind, and his gaze subtly shifted.
He was about to speak but stopped himself at the last second.
A forced exorcism was the worst possible plan. They still hadn’t figured out the female ghost’s death conditions.
The building’s owner was human. It was normal for them to have no death conditions. But since the mission required eliminating the female ghost, there had to be a way to do so.
Now, the entire building was shrouded in darkness, and the players didn’t dare use light sources for fear of becoming easy targets. The escalator, stretching endlessly upward in the pitch black, looked like a direct path to hell.
Before taking the first step, Bai Chanyi lowered her voice. “Count off in sequence.”
In such darkness, the worst thing that could happen was having one extra person—or one too few.
Just as she finished speaking, she suddenly felt something. Reaching out, she grasped it and, thanks to her evolved vision, barely made out the writing on it: One.
Standing beside her, Mu Tianbai’s entire form appeared hazy and indistinct, but not because of the darkness.
The note had come from him.
Bai Chanyi: “…”
After the count-off, things felt even eerier.
Time was precious. Once they confirmed their numbers, the group prepared to move upstairs.
Zhou Qi’an was unusually quiet along the way. Though he had just figured out something important about the female ghost’s corpse, the ominous feeling in his heart refused to dissipate.
His mind kept replaying everything about the dance studio.
Why was that place so special?
It wasn’t until his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the edge of the group photo in his pocket that Zhou Qi’an suddenly tensed.
Recruitment, the dance studio, the group photo…
In that instant, he finally saw the connection.
“I need to confirm something. You go ahead.”
After a quick word to Bai Chanyi, Zhou Qi’an took a deep breath and turned to sprint downstairs without hesitation.
His sudden action clearly startled the others. The Origami Boy’s gaze darkened, and he immediately followed.
Someone hesitated. “Sister Bai…”
Bai Chanyi said in a low voice, “Keep moving.”
No matter what, the cake had to be delivered.
With each step on the escalator, it felt as if they were stepping on a drum made of human skin—thin, with a faint bounce. The players’ footsteps became the perfect rhythm.
After just a few steps, their expressions turned eerily calm, one after another.
“It feels like something is here.” Without a specific warning from Zhou Qi’an, the college student simply followed along with the others.
A player, wearing an intoxicated expression, said, “Don’t be so paranoid.”
“No, I really feel something…” This sensation—it felt just like the first time they had gone to the top floor.
In the end, it was Bai Chanyi who stopped and carefully examined their surroundings.
In the gaps between the steps, countless phantom-like flowers were blooming—flowering but leafless, densely clustered together.
All the tiny flowers combined to form the shadow of a severed hand.
An evil spirit—and one that was missing a hand.
It had hidden in the escalator again!
The dark energy in the cake was a powerful nourishment for the spirit, which was the only reason the players hadn’t been immediately attacked.
Bai Chanyi’s expression changed drastically. “Run!”
The others hadn’t yet processed what was happening, but seeing her take off, they instinctively followed. By the time they reached the thirteenth floor, they finally realized something was wrong.
The cake on the tray had been mostly devoured. In the darkness, something was silently chewing.
When they had cut the cake earlier, the slices hadn’t been evenly sized. To make moving easier—and in case they needed to run—some players had only taken small pieces.
Now, with most of the cake gone, the chewing sounds hadn’t stopped. In fact, they seemed to be growing louder, echoing in their ears.
It wasn’t until someone looked down that they finally saw it—two empty pant legs gently swaying, an eerie wind swirling inside, bringing a bone-deep chill.
“Ah—”
Their legs were gone. Their other limbs were vanishing rapidly. The player let out a primal, instinctive scream.
The people ahead felt their scalps prickle.
“Should we go back to the cafeteria for more cake?”
The suggestion sounded unreliable the moment it was spoken. There were too many people, and even if they each got another piece, it wouldn’t be enough. Plus, going back and forth would only waste more time.
Bai Chanyi had already used an item. “Speed up.”
At the very least, they had to deliver a piece of cake to the female ghost. They couldn’t let the building’s owner gain an overwhelming advantage.
—
While the others went up, Zhou Qi’an went down.
He, too, heard the screams.
His back-and-forth movement wasted time, and though he was slightly delayed, speed had always been his strongest talent.
The Origami Boy followed closely behind.
After receiving a free clue from the photo and narrowly escaping death in the cafeteria, he was convinced that sticking with Zhou Qi’an would be beneficial.
It was called tailing, but in reality, it was a high-speed chase.
The moment Zhou Qi’an broke into a sprint, the Origami Boy was immediately left far behind.
Forget him—even the paper cranes couldn’t keep up with Zhou Qi’an’s speed!
The contact device flickered twice midway.
On the third time, the Origami Boy connected.
Red Cloak sent a questioning message: “Why aren’t you responding?”
Using a paper crane, the Origami Boy fixed his gaze on the corner of the young man’s clothing flaring up as he sprinted ahead, his feet nearly flying: “Don’t bother me, I’m playing Kua Fu chasing the sun.”
“?”
…
Zhou Qi’an made his way to the fourth floor. As he jumped off the last step, the cake on his plate was just finished.
Following closely behind, the Origami Boy grinned. He had a tool that could temporarily store and shrink objects.
Earlier, he had been extra cautious and brought an extra piece of cake. This meant that he still had one more chance to use the escalator, but the other party wouldn’t.
However, before his smile could last, it immediately froze.
Zhou Qi’an suddenly turned around and said, “A little ladybug. Guess why I didn’t crush it?”
A faint sense of unease rose in the Origami Boy’s heart.
On the top floor, monster corpses occasionally plummeted down, spraying blood midair onto the railings before crashing onto the first floor, turning into a pulp of flesh.
The shop owners of a few still-open stores on the fourth floor stood at their doorways, their faces pale and rigid as they stared intently at the only living person still moving at this hour. They kept waving their arms.
“Come.”
Come to them.
Zhou Qi’an took a swift step and walked through the blood mist toward the dance studio, shutting the door behind him with a backhand motion.
The Origami Boy, a beat too slow, nearly had his nose smashed: “…”
He was so infuriated by such idiotic behavior that he almost laughed.
It was just a door.
It didn’t even require a tool—he could easily pick the lock with the pin on his chest.
Inside, the moment Zhou Qi’an locked the door, a sharp piece of wood pressed against his neck.
At some unknown moment, the long-haired woman in black had appeared behind him.
“The photo.” Her words dripped with blood-like resentment. “You stole my photo.”
A fine cut had already appeared on his neck, the artery trembling slightly under the pressure.
The black line on Zhou Qi’an’s arm was rapidly spreading along his veins, about to envelop his entire body. Yet, he remained indifferent, saying, “Kill me, and where will you find such a perfect scapegoat?”
After the decryption mission, college students underwent the slowest rate of aberration.
As for the one outside…
Zhou Qi’an thought expressionlessly—he probably wouldn’t last much longer.
He clearly remembered that after the first instance’s boss, Wang Mu, died, the true culprit, Chen Jian, had rallied the group to cut the corpse into pieces and bury them in different locations, just to prevent him from turning into a ghost and seeking revenge.
The two players recruited by Red Cloak to go to the top floor had turned into mannequin models after death. How could they not seek vengeance?
Mu Tianbai had mentioned before that what Red Cloak provided wasn’t just a mere contact device—it carried consequences. Zhou Qi’an roughly understood what Red Cloak was scheming.
Just a little trick to kill two birds with one stone.
That tool probably had some additional effect that transferred enmity.
Suddenly, the door lock made a clicking sound.
The Origami Boy was about to push the door open when his hand halted in midair.
The shop owners who had previously been eagerly waving at him with pale faces had all stopped. Now, they wore eerie smiles.
His instincts screamed that something was off.
What the Origami Boy didn’t know was that among the pile of fallen corpses, two mannequin models had also dropped down. Midair, they had made an uncanny leap to slow their descent. Their limbs, broken upon impact, reassembled themselves moments later, and they crawled back up.
Something pressed against his back, but the rotten breath came from beneath his shoulder.
The Origami Boy’s expression drastically changed. He instinctively reached for a paper crane but suddenly remembered that he had used up his entire stock in the cafeteria to stay alive. In the blink of an eye, his muscles stiffened, and his legs felt as if they were being filled with lead.
A pair of hands twisted his rigid neck, and the Origami Boy finally saw what was behind him—
Not one monster, but two.
The female player and the dwarf, now transformed into mannequins. One of the dwarf’s eyes had fallen out, while the other swirled unnervingly in its socket.
“Help… help me…” The hardening of the Origami Boy’s body intensified.
The female player stood on tiptoe, continuously twisting his neck.
Forty-five degrees, seventy degrees—when it exceeded ninety degrees, the muscles in his neck were severely torn.
The Origami Boy finally realized the truth.
These two had been the players taken to the rooftop by Red Cloak. They had undoubtedly been set up to die, and now their post-mortem hatred had been transferred onto him.
Fear and rage filled him as his cervical spine reached its limit: “Hhh…”
He couldn’t even scream. The tension had wound to its breaking point, and with a sharp crack, the Origami Boy’s eyes widened in horror—then fell silent forever.
His neck was forcibly twisted a full circle, and in the end, it comically realigned with the dance studio—his eyes filled with unwillingness and resentment.
·
Before he died, the Origami Boy used the last of his strength to open the door.
The mannequin models did not enter. Instead, they dragged the fresh corpse away, one on each side.
The dance studio was freezing. The wide-open window had no security bars or screen to block it.
By the moonlight, Zhou Qi’an clearly saw the expression frozen on the Origami Boy’s face at the moment of death.
After just one glance, he indifferently withdrew his gaze.
Zhou Qi’an leaned against the barre in the dance studio. Every time his body became thinner, his internal organs were being compressed—but his face betrayed no fear.
On the other hand, the long-haired woman in black stood there, her ballet shoes gradually turning from white to crimson. Her terrifying expression was less about intimidation and more about anxiety and fear.
Zhou Qi’an tilted his head slightly. “Your good friend ate a cake made from monster corpses. She’ll become even stronger. Once she gets her revenge, what do you think will happen to you?”
If the Origami Boy had survived just a little longer, he might have cursed him one last time—madman.
He was already on the verge of turning into a monster, yet he still wanted to provoke one. If that wasn’t insanity, what was?
The long-haired woman in black wouldn’t kill her designated scapegoat so easily—but she could certainly teach him a lesson.
Just as she was about to move, she suddenly bent over in pain.
Thick black mist seeped out of her body. Zhou Qi’an paused, following the mist with his gaze, and noticed that the same thing was happening to the other shop owners at the entrance. All of the mist gathered together and flowed upward along the escalator toward the top floor.
Referring to the Qimen Journal, this was the monster’s Sha Qi being forcibly extracted and sent in reverse to nourish the ghosts raised by the old man.
Zhou Qi’an pondered.
“No wonder those shop owners didn’t attack me right away when they first saw me.”
Everyone was in a weakened state.
“It seems Bai Chanyi has already delivered the cake to the top floor.” Jin Furen must have been at a disadvantage, which was why the Sha Qi kept being siphoned away.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze returned to the long-haired woman in black. Very gentlemanly, he helped her up. In the process, their appearances aligned even more closely.
“Hide away.”
His voice was impossibly gentle, as if soothing a frightened child. “With me as your scapegoat, what are you afraid of?”
The long nails of the woman in black nearly sank into the flesh of his arm, but under his repeated coaxing, she gradually relaxed.
Yes. Hide.
That was what she had planned to do in the first place.
As the sharp pain in her arm faded, the long-haired woman in black vanished from the dance studio.
Zhou Qi’an still wore a gentle smile. Mimicking the woman’s dance steps, he quietly twirled in the studio.
__
Author’s Note:
System: Five-star Fish Eyes, please sign here.
System: Heart of Affection, please sign here.
Zhou Qi’an: …Rejected.
