WTNL Chapter 349

Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 349: It’s really frustating

A sharp tearing sound echoed as the seal over the man’s mouth was ripped away.

“Last… last night…?”

The man murmured hoarsely.

His hair was still gripped tightly in Xi Zi’s hand, his swollen eyes vacant and unfocused. His face was deathly pale, tinged with an eerie bluish hue, and from deep within his throat came a low, gurgling sound.

“Last night—”

His voice grew softer and softer, until it was barely audible.

“……”

Xi Zi frowned slightly.

She scrutinized the man’s face and immediately sensed that something was off.

When she had seen this person in the hallway earlier, he had looked tense and jittery, as though frightened of something. But he hadn’t seemed this disturbed—now, he was practically delirious.

Her gaze sharpened as she turned toward her teammates, her tone severe: “What did you do to him when you brought him here?”

“Huh?”

The team members responsible for capturing him looked equally baffled.

“We… we didn’t do anything!”

“During the capture, did you notice anything unusual?”

The captain of the other Red Faction squad stepped forward, observing the man sprawled on the floor as he asked.

“Ah!”

One of the team members suddenly hesitated, as if recalling something.

“Right—when we found him, he was just standing there, completely dazed, in the middle of the corridor… And there was a puddle of water at his feet.”

AAAAAHHHHHHHH——!!

Out of nowhere, the man let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Xi Zi flinched, instinctively recoiling as she released her grip.

With a sickening thud, his forehead slammed into the ground, but he showed no sign of feeling pain. Instead, his entire body convulsed violently, writhing on the floor as he shrieked in a garbled mix of wails and incoherent muttering:

“No, no, stay back!! You’ll drown—you’ll drown! You can’t be eaten—you can’t be eaten! Give me the badge—give it to me, give me the badge! Aaaahhhhhh!!”

“Shit!”

One of the team members standing by the door swore under his breath, his brows furrowed tightly as he kept glancing toward the hallway.

“Shut him up, now! He’s going to draw people here!”

If they let him keep screaming like this, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered.

Even though their group had the upper hand in terms of combat strength and experience within the instance, if everyone outside was as crazed and unhinged as this man, there was no guarantee they could escape unscathed.

Several people rushed forward, pinning the thrashing man down as they prepared to gag him.

“Wait.”

Wen Jianyan stepped forward, stopping them.

“But—”

The others hesitated, confusion flickering across their faces.

“……”

The two Red Faction captains exchanged glances before giving their subordinates a subtle signal.

Only then did they reluctantly loosen their grip and step back.

Wen Jianyan crouched down before the convulsing man.

He reached up, unfastening his badge from his chest, and slowly dangled it in front of the captive’s eyes.

“You want this?”

The man’s screams abruptly cut off.

His gaze locked onto the badge, as if mesmerized. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed with difficulty—then, violently, he nodded.

“Answer my question,” Wen Jianyan said lightly, extending the badge toward him.

“And it’s yours.”

“!!!”

Every single person in the room stiffened in shock.

Yun Bilan immediately stepped forward. “Captain—!”

Wen Jianyan cast him a glance.

He didn’t say a word, but Yun Bilan somehow found herself unable to take another step forward. It was as if an invisible force had stopped her in her tracks.

Wen Jianyan withdrew his gaze and turned back to the man on the floor.

“If you don’t have a badge, what happens?”

The man’s eyes remained glued to the badge. His voice trembled as he stammered:

“You… you die.”

Obvious.

Several people in the room let out exasperated sighs.

Wen Jianyan’s expression remained unchanged.

“How do you die?”

The man’s face twisted in pure terror. Instinctively, he curled in on himself.

“K—Killed.” His voice quivered.

“Or… devoured—alive.”

Killed or devoured?

The anchors in the room all froze.

Why were there two different ways to die?

Wen Jianyan clearly took note of this as well. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Killed by whom? Devoured by whom?”

The man fell silent.

His pupils trembled violently, his teeth chattering with an audible clack, clack. Sweat poured from his body, soaking the carpet beneath him in a matter of moments. He muttered under his breath:

“Must… must reach the real Xingwang Hotel, must… the real…”

“?!”

Everyone in the room visibly tensed, their pupils contracting slightly.

What did he mean?

What was this about… the real Xingwang Hotel?

Wasn’t this the real Xingwang Hotel?

Wen Jianyan stood up, casually refastening his badge onto his chest. He glanced at the nearby anchors, who were still frozen in shock, and nodded. In a perfectly natural tone, he said:

“That’s enough. Tie him up—make sure his mouth is sealed shut.”

In the “Integrity First” live room:

[……]

[……I mean, I figured he wouldn’t actually give the guy his badge, but to lie so smoothly, without even the slightest guilt… that’s seriously rare.]

“I couldn’t help but glance at the name of the live room—‘Integrity First’—so, what, you’re even lying to your audience now?!]

“Mmmph!!”

The man was swiftly and thoroughly restrained again, bound from head to toe. His furious, hate-filled eyes were the only part of him left uncovered, and he glared at Wen Jianyan with such venomous intensity that it seemed he wanted to tear him apart with his gaze alone.

Wen Jianyan remained where he was, his head slightly lowered. The heavy shadows concealed the side of his face, as though he had fallen into deep thought.

The room sank into silence once more, save for the muffled grunts of the bound man, his struggles echoing faintly in the background.

“Wait a second.”

Finally, Xi Zi, unable to hold back any longer, broke the silence. She turned toward Wen Jianyan.

“So, just now… that man… was he…”

“Lying?”

Wen Jianyan looked over.

His pale irises shimmered faintly in the dim light, giving the unsettling illusion that he could see straight through people.

Xi Zi hesitated, momentarily thrown off guard, before answering, “…Yes.”

“Even though he’s delirious and in terrible condition,” Wen Jianyan lowered his gaze, glancing briefly in the captive’s direction, “based on my experience, the chances of him lying are very low.”

“What was he even talking about?”

The captain of the other Red Faction squad frowned.

“Killed, devoured… and the ‘real’ Xingwang Hotel? What does any of that mean?”

Suddenly, his expression shifted.

“Wait—devoured? Are you saying…”

“That’s probably it.”

Wen Jianyan nodded. He met the other man’s gaze.

“He’s talking about tomorrow’s ‘banquet.’”

Given the context of this instance, that was the only possible conclusion.

After all, Wen Jianyan held a crucial piece of information that the others didn’t—he knew that the Xingwang Hotel and Changsheng Building were deeply intertwined.

And if the fourth floor of Changsheng Building used human lives as sacrifices to appease ghosts, then it wouldn’t be surprising if the final day of the Xingwang Hotel’s ‘banquet’ also revolved around consuming human flesh.

In other words—

Regardless of whether they were on the Red Faction or the Black Faction, every anchor in the instance who failed to become an official employee would be served as food at the third day’s ‘banquet.’

On the first day, the requirement was to complete the intern mission.

On the second day, the only way was to steal a badge from an existing official employee and take their place.

…Another forced conflict.

Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes.

His long eyelashes cast deep shadows, obscuring his gaze.

From the very beginning, it seemed the tone of the Xingwang Hotel instance had already been set.

The profound, unparalleled malice and the countless means devised to drive anchors to kill each other—whether between the Red and Black factions or within the same faction—mandate that they must personally take the lives of others to survive.

This seems to be the sole purpose of this instance.

But the problem is… something feels off.

If Xingwang Hotel and Changsheng Building are the same, then their objective should both be to put vengeful spirits back into slumber.

However, compared to Changsheng Building, which is structured with strict discipline and meticulous planning, Xingwang Hotel appears loosely organized and brimming with malice. While there is a hotel manager, there are no clear guiding paths—whether in terms of hidden rules or the overall structure. Anchors must personally explore and uncover them. Beyond the goal of “sending spirits to sleep,” the hotel seems more focused on inciting conflicts among the anchors, driving them to harm one another.

Wen Jianyan furrowed his brows slightly.

For some reason, the entire instance gave him a subtle sense of discord, a vague feeling of displacement—almost as if…

Suddenly, something came to him. His fingers, hanging by his side, twitched slightly—only to grasp at empty air.

Wu Zhu!

Wen Jianyan lifted his eyes and looked around.

Inside the dimly lit room, the walls and floor were covered in damp stains. The only large mural depicted a scene of dilapidated, decaying buildings, and amidst the dreary rain, countless indistinct figures loomed. Several anchors stood in the room, their brows tightly knitted as they whispered among themselves.

No one had noticed the disappearance of a person who had never truly existed—except Wen Jianyan.

His brows knitted tighter, and he subconsciously pressed his lips together.

Previously, whether in the staff dormitory or in the elevator, Wu Zhu’s figure could only appear in reflective surfaces, never in reality.

However, Wen Jianyan knew one thing for sure—whenever Wu Zhu was present, he would cling to him at all times. Even if they weren’t holding hands, Wu Zhu would always be close, brushing against him, seizing every opportunity to assert his presence. But ever since Wen Jianyan stepped out of the elevator, Wu Zhu had vanished.

It was just that the subsequent chain of events had been so abrupt and intense that Wen Jianyan hadn’t had the time or opportunity to react. It wasn’t until now that he suddenly realized—the fragment that always lingered near him had disappeared and had yet to reappear.

His hand at his side curled slightly, and his fingertips rubbed together as if in frustration.

Not for any particular reason.

It was just that—he had just been preparing to take advantage of this bug, and now the bug had disappeared… How frustrating.

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and easily suppressed the ripples of emotion in his heart.

At that moment, the captain of one of the Red Faction’s squads, Xi Zi, turned her head and looked at the group. “In any case, let’s set this issue aside for now. Don’t forget, our real opponents are still the Black Faction. We have to secure a higher revenue than them by the end of today.”

“Agreed.”

Another squad captain, Mu Bai, nodded and said:

“Although we do need to be wary of fellow anchors in our own faction, our overall plan remains unchanged.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Wen Jianyan remained silent, listening as they discussed their next steps. Their plans were more or less the same as what he had thought of last night in his room.

Essentially, they needed to attract more guests to the hotel, complete commissions, and earn spending…

“By the way, have any of you noticed,” Xi Zi gestured in the air, “that ever since we entered the second day, a new icon has appeared on the live broadcast interface?”

Wen Jianyan opened the live broadcast interface.

Sure enough, a small icon had appeared in the upper right corner. It consisted of two bars—one red and one black—with the black bar slightly taller than the red one. He paused for a moment. “This is…”

“It’s a comparison of the revenue between the Red and Black factions,” Xi Zi affirmed. “With this, we can track our progress in real-time.”

As they were discussing, a team member guarding the door suddenly lowered his voice and spoke urgently, “Someone’s coming.”

“!”

Everyone was startled and turned their heads.

It seemed that the shouts from the person who had just been tied up had drawn too much unwanted attention. At the far end of the corridor, chaotic footsteps echoed, mixed with rough, hoarse voices. Though the words were indistinct, they carried an ominous undertone.

“Hurry, move faster! Where are they?”

“I heard something from that direction!”

Inside the room, everyone’s expression turned serious.

“We need to move,” someone said, and the others nodded in agreement.

Indeed.

Given the current situation, if they wanted to avoid direct conflict with this approaching group, they had to leave immediately. Otherwise, they risked being caught in a pincer attack and forced into battle.

“Alright, let’s split up,” Xi Zi said.

“Wait a moment. I have one last question.” Wen Jianyan seemed to have thought of something and turned to look at the other anchors.

“What is it?” Xi Zi paused mid-step and glanced back.

Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes and asked a question no one had expected:

“What kind of ‘wish’ did the guests you brought into the hotel make?”

To advance from an intern to a full-time employee, one had to invite guests into the hotel and fulfill their requests.

Since both of these teams had already become full-time employees, that meant they had successfully completed both requirements to obtain their badges.

“It gave us a room number,” Mu Bai hesitated before responding. “Following that number led us to a location in a small town, and then…”

This was information Wen Jianyan already knew. Nothing seemed off.

But… with the instincts of someone honed by surviving countless dangerous environments, Wen Jianyan had an inexplicable feeling—an unease that he couldn’t quite place. He interrupted, asking:

“What kind of location?”

“Uh,” Mu Bai looked slightly puzzled but still answered, “It was an elementary school.”

“…”

Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted slightly.

“An elementary school?” A slightly confused voice came from behind him—Xi Zi’s. “That’s odd. My destination was also an elementary school… though mine was the school’s playground.”

An elementary school…

A surprising yet strangely reasonable answer.

In such a small town, a single classroom could accommodate an entire grade, meaning there should only be one elementary school in the entire town. In other words, at least so far, all the Red Team anchors had been directed toward the same elementary school.

The only exception was Wen Jianyan.

He had been led by the woman in white from Room 408 to a framing shop on a nonexistent street.

However, according to his previous deductions…

The apparition of the woman in white inside the abandoned house in the wilderness—she was supposed to be a teacher at that very elementary school. Yet, for some reason, when the town underwent its distortion, she ended up in the abandoned house on the town’s outskirts. Behind that very house, there was a dried-up well—precisely where Wen Jianyan was supposed to go next.

A tingling sensation crept up the back of his scalp.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that some invisible thread was weaving everything together—connecting the clues, pulling them toward an inevitable conclusion.

Like an unseen hand, manipulating everything from the shadows, guiding them toward a predetermined end.

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