WTNL Chapter 374.1

Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 374.1: First sight kill

Compared to just ten minutes ago, everything here had changed drastically.

The entire Xingwang Hotel was now enveloped in a chilling ghostly atmosphere. A faint, almost imperceptible stench of decay lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate, surrounding everyone.

At the end of the hallway was a dark red door. Under the glow of the lights, the heavy door presented a color that resembled coagulated blood, half-frozen and unsettling.

Outside the door, everyone had already gathered.

Each person was dressed in identical sharp uniforms, their faces hidden behind pale, featureless masks. The only difference was the color and number on their name tags.

The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Everyone knew this was the final and most important part of the Xingwang Hotel’s entire scenario.

The hotel manager stepped forward and placed a hand on the door.

With a creaking sound, the heavy door slowly creaked open in front of everyone.

Inside was the familiar, spacious hall with a long table large enough to seat fifteen people.

On the snow-white tablecloth were a series of dinner plates.

These were simple, brass plates, looking a bit aged and covered in stains.

Next to the plates was a small candelabra with unlit candles.

Near the door stood a small reception desk with a lit lantern resting on the surface.

This was the same lantern the hotel manager had carried with him when leading them to the staff rest area.

However, this time, it emitted a faint red glow, casting a dim light over the otherwise brightly lit hall.

Everything about it seemed eerie.

The hotel manager turned to face the stream of hosts.

“The banquet will begin in ten minutes. Please bring your utmost enthusiasm to offer perfect service to the guests. If you do well, you will be generously rewarded with tips.”

Under the faint red light, the hotel manager’s face, pale and blurred, smiled ominously, resembling the corpse of someone long dead, yet his mechanical voice continued:

“First, do not let the guests wait.”

“Light the candles on the table before serving the food.”

“Please be sure to serve the food before the candles burn out.”

The hotel manager did not mention what would happen if these rules were violated, but everyone understood they did not want to find out firsthand.

“The banquet will last one hour. Please make the most of this time and serve the distinguished guests as best as you can.”

After finishing these instructions, the hotel manager stepped forward, standing behind the reception desk.

Under the watchful gaze of his black hollow eyes, the hosts gathered and stepped forward to stand behind him.

As Wen Jianyan was about to move forward, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.

“?”

He paused, turning his head slightly to look to the side.

Since there was no mirror, he couldn’t see Wu Zhu’s figure, only the empty space beside him. But the sensation on his wrist was unmistakable, undeniably real.

The cold hand firmly grasped his, fingers tightening, not allowing him to pull away.

“…What?”

Wen Jianyan lowered his voice to ask.

The other hosts were filing into the room, and he couldn’t stand still for too long, or it would attract unnecessary attention.

A silence surrounded him.

Suddenly, Wen Jianyan felt his palm open, and then cold fingertips began to trace something across his palm.

A horizontal line, a flick…

Wen Jianyan froze for a moment, then suddenly realized that Wu Zhu was writing something.

【Don’t】

…Don’t??

No what?

Before Wen Jianyan could figure it out, the force on his wrist loosened.

The cold fingers disappeared, and his skin was exposed to the air, sending a chill through him.

Wen Jianyan stood still, dazed for a moment.

The other hosts were almost finished walking in.

Wen Jianyan suddenly snapped back to reality, hurriedly following behind them.

Inside the empty banquet hall, the hotel manager, with his pale face and an eerie smile, stood at the reception desk, silently waiting.

The hosts stood behind him, each holding their own thoughts.

Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, instinctively touching his wrist.

He had expected that Wu Zue would not be able to enter the final banquet hall, given that the instance was still under the control of the nightmare.

In this “prison”, the “warden” still existed.

Given this premise, it made sense that Wu Zhu, as a prisoner, could not enter.

However, what Wen Jianyan hadn’t anticipated was that before leaving, Wu Zhu would leave him such a “message”.

Wen Jianyan lowered his head, gazing at his open hand.

“…”

The warmth from the other person’s fingertips seemed to linger in his palm, even though the initial coldness had faded. Now, only an undeniable burning sensation remained, impossible to ignore.

“Don’t?”

What was meant by “don’t”?

Don’t go in? Don’t leave? Or was it some other piece of information?

As Wen Jianyan pondered, the air around him suddenly began to chill. A cold, eerie wind blew from the end of the hallway, carrying with it a sinister, decaying smell that made him instinctively shiver.

Wen Jianyan froze for a moment, quickly lifting his head to look toward the open door.

“Zzz… Zzzzz…”

Under some unknown force, the light bulb at the end of the hallway began to flicker, its brightness ebbing and flowing.

Then came the sound of footsteps from the far end of the hallway.

Tap, tap, tap.

A vague figure appeared in the dim red light, walking step by step toward this side.

In an instant, everyone’s heart rate sped up, and they instinctively held their breath.

It began.

Perhaps it was just a sensation, but the once dim light now seemed blood-red, reminiscent of the elevator ride earlier.

In the sharp red-lit hallway, the number of stiff figures began to increase.

One, two, three…

The dense sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor as the “guests,” with their stiff movements, made their way toward the door.

The red light illuminated their featureless, pale faces, and even from a distance, it was enough to send a shiver down anyone’s spine.

The rotting stench wafted from the corridor, and the temperature in the air seemed to plummet, so cold that it made them shudder.

Everyone heightened their vigilance, nervously standing at attention.

Soon, the first “guest” entered the banquet hall.

Wen Jianyan held his breath, watching its pale face, stiff as if made of wax. It walked toward the hall, seemingly drawn by some invisible force, and sat down at one of the tables.

Next came the second, third, and fourth.

When five guests had seated themselves, the hallway finally emptied.

The lights in the hallway stopped flickering, and the blood-red hue gradually faded, returning to the normal dim red.

The five guests sat motionless at the table.

“Let’s begin.”

The hotel manager turned to the “official staff” waiting at the side, saying, “The dishes are over there.”

It pointed toward a certain direction in the hall.

There, a very noticeable window stood, and inside, many plates were arranged side by side. Each plate held something quietly placed within.

Blond took a step forward, standing on tiptoe to look in that direction.

He froze.

There were no horrific items challenging the limits of human physiology on the plates—no eyeballs, no hearts, no skulls, nothing like that.

Instead, each plate contained a name tag.

Some had black numbers, some red.

Cold and neatly arranged at the center of each plate, they seemed lifeless.

But everyone knew, behind each plate, there was a living person’s life.

Blond stepped back and whispered to his teammates:

“It’s… It’s the name tags.”

“By the way, the generous tips you earn from the guests can be taken with you.”

The hotel manager seemed to recall something, turning to look at the anchors behind him and calmly saying:

“Of course, you can also choose to take them now and use them.”

The anchors from the black team were startled.

But the red team anchors didn’t seem surprised at all. They exchanged a quick glance, as if they had anticipated this situation.

The hotel manager continued:

“You can use twenty yuan of tips to exchange for an additional name tag at the front desk. Of course, if your name tag is lost and you can’t act, you can ask your partner to go to the front desk to buy a name tag for you.

Of course, each person only gets one chance.”

At this, even the red team anchors, who had already been aware of some of the information, couldn’t help but feel a slight shock.

Having survived in the Xingwang Hotel scenario for so long, they were now fully aware of the importance of the name tag.

It was intimately tied to the wearer’s life. If the name tag was taken, the anchor would fall into a state of false death. If the anchor died, the name tag would disappear as well.

Even the “food” served to the guests at the final banquet was made of human name tags.

In other words, in this scenario, the name tag was life.

Therefore, as long as there were enough “tips,” even if someone died during the banquet, they could buy a second life.

Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, feeling a slight sense of relief.

Fortunately.

It seemed everything was proceeding as he had expected.

Among everyone, he was the only one who had participated in the Changsheng Tower scenario and realized the connection between the two scenarios.

In Changsheng Building, all the earned ghost money had a way to be spent. However, in the [Xingwang Hotel] instance, there was no such mechanism.

To be precise, there was a system for them in the original Xingwang Hotel, but not in the mirror copy.

Since all the instance mechanisms were blocked by the mirror, no matter whether they entered a clothing store or a mask store, they didn’t have to pay anything.

If that’s the case, then in this entire instance, ghost money only served one purpose: to “measure the outcome” between both sides.

This item couldn’t form any proper “mechanism” in the instance, and a closed loop couldn’t be achieved.

After dealing with the nightmare for so long, Wen Jianyan knew that the likelihood of this situation occurring was very low.

Let alone now, they had left the nightmare-created mirror instance and entered a real instance, restructured around the real world.

So, in the upcoming “banquet”, these ghost money would definitely have more uses, not just as a measure of victory or defeat.

Could it be like in Changsheng Building, where they could buy props?

No, the likelihood is low.

Wen Jianyan dismissed this possibility in his mind.

The Xingwang Hotel instance was nearing its end, and most of the framework had already been figured out by them. Under these circumstances, introducing an item that had not appeared earlier would undoubtedly disrupt the integrity of the instance and imbalance the strength of both teams.

Therefore, the most likely use of ghost money would be to buy lives.

Or rather… this was its most original, most fundamental use.

Moreover, with the Nightmare’s temperament, the price would definitely not be low.

Because only by doing this could it stir the pot, intensify the conflicts…

No one would be spared.

It was important to note that they had worked for two whole days, and the amount of ghost money each team had earned was only in the tens. Even if more ghost money were earned during the banquet, if they were consumed in large amounts, neither side would be able to hold up.

After all, their goal was not just to survive, but to win.

If too many people were lost, forcing them to consume ghost money, it would give the trailing side an opportunity to catch up.

More importantly, once there were more ways to consume ghost money… when the final competition reached its peak, in order to win and to survive, the anchors might even voluntarily reduce the number of their official staff.

This was because the number of anchors who had already become bait was limited, and once they needed more tips to support more “guests,” the first target would definitely be their own people.

All the anchors present were experienced professionals, so naturally, they all thought of this.

The atmosphere gradually became dangerous, and the entire banquet turned into something ambiguous.

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, lowering his eyes and gently rubbing the side of his finger joints.

However… this was actually good news for him.

At the long table not far away, five “guests” sat still. Their bodies were stiff, exuding a cold, eerie aura, seemingly waiting for something.

“Captain, we…”

One member of the Black Team leaned close to the gentleman’s ear and whispered.

The gentleman didn’t respond.

His eyes, hidden beneath the mask, subtly moved, scanning everyone in front of him.

After everyone donned their uniforms and wore the pale masks, everyone in the room looked almost identical, making it difficult to differentiate between people, let alone identify a specific individual.

What was worse was that the masks worn by everyone had certain supernatural effects. Not only did they interfere with the judgment of ghosts, but they also interfered with the use of system items.

This meant they couldn’t use any items to locate the opposing team’s captain.

The gentleman looked toward the red team’s side, his gaze landing on a red team anchor wearing the [Official Employee 001] name tag.

Clearly, only the opposing team’s captain had the strength to wear this name tag, but…

The gentleman’s gaze shifted downward, landing on the chest of the person wearing the mask.

Whether it was height, bone structure, or posture, it was unmistakably female.

This was almost completely opposite to Pinocchio himself.

It was obvious that the other side had done this intentionally.

Pinocchio might have used an appearance-changing technique, or perhaps simply given his name tag to someone else in his team to wear…

A smokescreen?

Was it a misdirection? Or something else?

The gentleman couldn’t be sure and didn’t dare make a rash move.

After all, he had already suffered many setbacks before, so when he saw the red team female anchor blatantly wearing the 001 name tag, he found himself in a difficult position.

This feeling of having his brain infiltrated was truly awful.

“Let’s hold off for now.” The gentleman frowned, retracting his gaze and whispering his response.

The banquet had just begun. They hadn’t fully grasped the internal rules of the banquet yet, so there was no need to engage with the red team at this moment.

The people around him nodded and fell silent.

While they were contemplating, the anchors had already moved.

Both the black and red team anchors exchanged a few words and then selected several members to leave their teams and walk toward the tables where the plates were placed.

The entire process appeared simple, but no one dared to relax their vigilance.

The red team had selected Chen Mo, along with two other members from each of their teams.

Chen Mo was experienced, calm, and meticulous. Before joining Wen Jianyan’s team, he had been a team leader and was capable of handling most situations on his own.

The other two red teams had made similar choices, sending out their most experienced, well-rounded teammates who had strong survival abilities.

The masked individuals approached the window, each picking up a plate, then turned and carefully walked toward the dining table.

The five “guests” still sat motionless at the table, their old, tarnished copper plates in front of them.

A cold, eerie aura enveloped the entire hall.

Chen Mo, holding his plate, walked toward the table step by step.

The empty plate only held a name tag with a number written on it, making the scene seem particularly absurd.

As the official staff approached, the temperature in the air began to plummet rapidly. Even the other anchors still at the front desk could feel the unnatural chill.

“Zzz… Zzzzz…”

The lights in the hall flickered erratically, disturbed by some unknown force.

What had been relatively bright light slowly dimmed, right before everyone’s eyes.

As the anchors holding the trays approached the vicinity of the table, the entire hall was enveloped in a thick layer of darkness. Visibility was reduced to within two meters, with only the lantern at the front desk still barely glowing, like a pair of wide, red eyes staring out.

In the distance, the outline of the dining table could be faintly seen, but no one could tell exactly what was happening ahead.

Blond lowered his voice and said, “…I can’t see clearly either.”

In the impenetrable darkness, everyone held their breath, waiting quietly. Soon, with a soft “crack” sound, a red candle flame lit up, slightly dispersing the darkness before their eyes.

Everyone was startled and hurriedly looked toward the direction where the candlelight appeared.

One after another, red candles began to light up.

The blood-red dim light illuminated the guests’ pale, eerie faces. From a distance, it looked like a terrifying hellish scene.

In the dense darkness and the blurred light and shadows, they could only vaguely see the anchors’ movements as they carried the trays, but they couldn’t observe anything more clearly.

The air grew heavier with the stench of decay, as if some animal had died in the center of the room, making everyone feel like they might vomit.

In the distance, everyone waited, hearts pounding.

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