WTNL Chapter 378.1

Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 378.1: The real show is about to begin

For the awakened Black Team member, making a decision wasn’t particularly difficult.

After all, he had no other options left now.

Though the two of them were on opposing sides, the decision to cooperate had been reached faster than ever before.

Before long, a one-sided and unequal agreement had been successfully signed: Wen Jianyan was responsible for getting the other man out of this place, while the other party had to answer all his questions truthfully and obey all of his commands without question.

“You can just call me Wu Cheng.”

The man got up from the ground and said.

Wen Jianyan’s gaze fell on his face.

From the moment he removed the talisman to the time they finalized the agreement, only a few minutes had passed. Yet Wen Jianyan could clearly see a new crack had formed on the mask that Wu Cheng was wearing.

Wu Cheng clearly noticed Wen Jianyan’s gaze as well. He gave a bitter smile and raised his hand to touch his mask.

“You’ve probably realized it by now—this mask won’t last long in this area.”

He had only realized this after entering the area.

The mask didn’t have a time limit while walking along the road. But once he left the path, it started cracking over time, eventually losing its function entirely.

“In fact, that’s exactly why I was lying there.”

Wu Cheng said.

“The longer you stay here, the more cracks the mask gets. If I hadn’t used a talisman to fake my death, I would’ve ended up like everyone else who came in here—dead within ten minutes.”

“But…”

Wu Cheng’s eyes landed on Wen Jianyan’s face—on the flawless white mask—and he paused in surprise.

“Your mask doesn’t seem to be having the same problem.”

Of course not—the source was different.

Unlike the others in this instance, Wen Jianyan’s mask was purchased using ghost coins, not simply snatched from the store without payment.

Still, he had no intention of explaining that.

“Do you have any other useful information to share?”

Realizing the other man didn’t want to go into details, Wu Cheng didn’t press further.

“We need to move. We can’t stay in one place too long.”

He pointed at the ground beneath their feet.

“The soil is starting to swallow us.”

The yellow earth beneath them was loose and unstable, almost like quicksand. If they stood still for too long, they would sink deeply into it.

They started walking.

Darkness surrounded them. There wasn’t a single point of light in the sky—it was suffocating. In every direction stretched an endless graveyard of tomb mounds, rising and falling, exuding an eerie chill.

“Don’t get too close to the lower mounds,” Wu Cheng said as they walked. “One of our team members got pulled into one.”

“Pulled in by what?” Wen Jianyan asked.

“I don’t know.” Wu Cheng shuddered and shook his head. “I didn’t see anything.”

Before they could even react, it was over. The person had vanished into the darkness without even managing a scream.

Wen Jianyan: “You didn’t try to leave?”

Wu Cheng: “Of course we did.”

“In this area, although the system store and live broadcast system are still functional, none of the items work.”

“Low-level guidance items are completely ineffective. High-level ones can still activate, but all they do is make us wander in circles. No matter where we go, everything around us looks exactly the same.”

Wu Cheng’s voice was full of despair.

“We were completely trapped, with no way out.”

Of their group, some had been dragged into the mounds, and others had their masks shatter after reaching the time limit.

Once the mask broke, that person would be immediately sucked into the earth and never crawl out again.

Faced with this hopeless situation, Wu Cheng had ultimately spent all the points he could use in this instance, placing all his bets on a desperate move: he used an epic-grade talisman he’d obtained in a higher-level instance on himself, faking his death and sending out a call for help.

Wen Jianyan walked beside him, listening intently while his mind worked at full speed.

In fact, Wen Jianyan had already guessed the dilemma Wu Cheng and his group would face before luring them here.

Anyone walking the road who veered off it would end up leaving the path entirely—because the road and the space beyond it weren’t part of the same dimension. No matter how long they wandered here, they wouldn’t escape.

Low-level items didn’t work, high-level ones were useless—only epic-grade tools had any effect…

Behind his mask, Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes.

“That’s all I know.”

After finishing his explanation, Wu Cheng looked uncertainly at the young man beside him.

The other man wore the same type of mask as him, yet it hadn’t cracked even a little. He walked calmly and gracefully among the mounds, completely unbothered by the unchanged surroundings, as though he knew exactly where to go.

After a moment of hesitation, Wu Cheng asked cautiously:

“Um… you know the way out, don’t you?”

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

[Pfft! He doesn’t know sh*t!]

[LMAO, bet the other guy never expected it—the anchor knows even less than he does!]

[Started with nothing, faked his way through it all. Classic Wen Jianyan!]

[A master of pulling something from nothing!]

Suddenly, Wen Jianyan came to an abrupt stop.

Startled, Wu Cheng quickly halted as well.

“Of course I know,” Wen Jianyan said, turning his head. Beneath the mask, his gaze was sharp and intense.

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

[?]

[???]

Then Wen Jianyan opened his system inventory.

A moment later, a worn piece of parchment appeared in his hand.

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

[!]

[Damn! I almost forgot about that thing!]

[Seriously—only in situations like this do you realize how OP an item that answers all your questions is…]

Wu Cheng gasped: “That’s—!”

“Looks familiar, doesn’t it?”

Wen Jianyan turned to glance at him. In that split second, their eyes met—and under that steady, penetrating gaze, a chill ran down Wu Cheng’s spine.

“I know the Gentleman used this to guide your team.”

Although Wu Cheng had no idea how Wen Jianyan got hold of such an item—or how he knew all this—he didn’t ask. Instead, he just nodded nervously.

“Yes.”

Wen Jianyan lowered his head and looked at the parchment.

It was yellowed and tattered, blank at first glance—like it was just some discarded junk.

But… this was their only hope of getting out.

“How do we leave here and return to the Xingwang Hotel?” he asked.

Clear writing rapidly appeared on the parchment.

Wu Cheng quickly looked away, afraid to stare too long.

As the words emerged, Wen Jianyan frowned.

Only a single line appeared:

“Use a soul.”

Use a soul?

Was it referring to the item that woman in white gave him—the one that could prematurely platinum an instance?

But why would using that get them back to the Xingwang Hotel?

That didn’t make any sense.

More importantly, Wen Jianyan had made an agreement with the Black Team: he couldn’t use or activate the item until the final three minutes of the instance.

But no matter how many more questions Wen Jianyan asked, no new text appeared on the parchment.

One soul allowed for three questions—and apparently, that one had already been used.

Only one question left.

Damn it.

But there was no other choice.

Gritting his teeth, Wen Jianyan made up his mind.

He asked again: “How do we leave here and return to the Xingwang Hotel without using a soul?”

That was his final question.

This time, the parchment remained blank for a long time.

Just when Wen Jianyan thought it was broken—or that it didn’t have an answer—some words finally began to emerge, slowly and reluctantly.

Wen Jianyan’s eyes lit up as he scanned the message, then started walking briskly: “Follow me!”

Wu Cheng blinked and hurried after him:

“Right—coming!”

Wen Jianyan moved quickly, glancing down at the parchment from time to time as new instructions surfaced, murmuring under his breath:

“Count the mounds in the direction we’re facing… turn right… count eight mounds… turn 45 degrees left… third mound…”

His pace quickened.

They raced through the darkness.

The surrounding tombs looked the same as before—silent and still, rising and falling like a massive, inescapable maze.

At last, Wen Jianyan stopped.

Wu Cheng, panting heavily behind him, finally caught up: “Are we… there?”

Wen Jianyan didn’t answer. He simply stared straight ahead.

There, just a few steps in front of him, was a half-collapsed tomb mound—at least half the height of the others, as if worn away by time and on the verge of structural failure.

It was exactly the kind Wu Cheng had warned him not to approach.

“This is…”

Wu Cheng gasped softly.

Wen Jianyan lowered his head again and carefully examined the yellowed piece of leather paper in front of him.

The last line of text had appeared, and no further changes occurred to the paper.

“What’s happening?” Wu Cheng asked anxiously from the side.

The cracks in his mask had spread across 60% of his face, and he was barely able to hold on anymore.

“We can only try it,” Wen Jianyan said with a long exhale, then bent down to unwrap the gauze around his palm.

This was the wound he got earlier in the labyrinth, when a shard of mirror had cut him. Although it had been treated urgently and the bleeding had stopped, it was still seeping blood, showing no signs of healing.

But everything had been happening so quickly, there had been no time to pay attention to the wound.

As he unwrapped, the lower layers of the gauze were completely soaked with blood, sticking tightly to the uneven wound.

Wen Jianyan furrowed his brow, gritted his teeth, held his breath, and then suddenly yanked!

“…Damn!!”

The pain made him gasp, and he couldn’t help but curse. A fine layer of sweat had appeared on his forehead, and tears had welled up in the corners of his eyes.

Damn, it hurt like hell!

After he regained his composure, Wen Jianyan took several deep breaths, gripped his wrist with one hand, and pressed hard on the gory wound in his palm.

Thick, crimson blood dripped from his pale fingers and quickly soaked into the soft ground beneath him, where it was swiftly absorbed by the soil.

Almost immediately, Wen Jianyan felt an eerie coldness coming from deep within the earth, crawling up from the soles of his feet.

The air seemed to have… changed.

There was a rustling sound from deep beneath the soil.

Wu Cheng seemed to have realized something, and struggled to turn his head to look behind him.

His face went pale beneath the mask.

Strange, unsettling noises came from beneath the countless graves. The yellow earth, which had been calm moments ago, now seemed to breathe, rising and falling like it was being pushed from below.

“Rustle. Rustle.”

A pale, bony hand reached out from beneath one of the graves.

Then a second, a third…

Centered around the spot where Wen Jianyan’s blood had dripped, the graves began to shift. The already soft yellow earth crumbled away, and corpse after corpse crawled out from beneath the soil.

The scene was one that seemed to belong only in a nightmare.

Wu Cheng almost forgot how to breathe, staring dumbly at the scene before him.

Pale, rotten, and decayed spirits crawled out from the graves. Their faces turned towards the direction of Wen Jianyan, and their hollow eyes seemed to “look” right at him.

The atmosphere became increasingly eerie.

Wen Jianyan, too, felt a chill run down his spine, his hair standing on end. He was overwhelmed by a strong desire to run.

But he had no choice but to stay rooted to the spot, maintaining his position to let the blood continue dripping.

“Wh-what do we do?” Wu Cheng’s voice was shaky.

What could they do?

Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth, forcing a sound from his throat.

“…Wait.”

As if guided, the thick blood trickled into the collapsed grave ahead, and then…

The next second, it completely caved in.

The blood-soaked yellow earth surged upwards, as if the mud had become conscious, creeping up to his ankle. The darkness beneath seemed to be pulling something, tugging at him to descend.

Before Wen Jianyan could react, he felt a heavy weight beneath his feet, as though he had fallen into mid-air, pulled down sharply by gravity.

His scream hadn’t even escaped his mouth before everything ended.

Wen Jianyan fell in.

So did Wu Cheng.

The cold, wet soil pressed against his chest and throat, and it seemed to have a will of its own, pushing away the mask from his face, flooding his nose and mouth.

The smell of blood, earth, and rotting corpses overwhelmed him, flooding his senses.

In the last moments of consciousness, Wen Jianyan remembered stretching out his hand as if to use the last of his strength to grab his mask.

His fingers gripped the edge of the mask tightly.

He clung to it desperately.

The next second, the soil collapsed on top of him, sealing everything.

The world fell into complete silence.

Time seemed to slow down exponentially.

No, to be precise, it was his mind that slowed down, his thoughts becoming sluggish and slow, as if his entire being were trapped in thick ice, freezing his brain.

It felt like… sleep.

Wen Jianyan felt himself drifting, not knowing where he was going.

It seemed like he was in a small town.

The sky was pale.

There was no sun.

Although it was daylight, the town was eerily silent, like a ghost town.

The doors and windows were hollow, empty.

He heard crying.

The sound was soft, intermittent, coming from behind a dilapidated house.

“They’re dead… Everyone is dead… It’s my fault… I can’t go on… I can’t go on anymore… If this continues… everything will be over… everything…”

Wen Jianyan felt his body being drawn closer, inexorably moving forward.

He circled the back of the broken house and saw her.

A woman dressed in white stood there, her back lonely, as if the wind would blow her away at any moment.

She held something in her arms, a square box of some kind.

“I can’t let anyone… I can’t let anyone take it… I can’t…”

She repeated herself, as though entranced, saying the same words over and over again.

“…This is a nightmare, a nightmare, a nightmare…”

The scene made Wen Jianyan’s hair stand on end, and his spine shivered.

He couldn’t think. He was forced to watch the scene unfold before him, and he was helplessly drawn closer.

The distance shortened, shortening, shortening.

Too close.

So close that Wen Jianyan could smell the thick, damp scent seeping from her hair, filling his face.

Without warning, the woman suddenly turned her head.

With only inches between them, face to face.

Wen Jianyan’s heart stopped.

He couldn’t see her nose, mouth, or any other features. All he could see were her wide, horrified eyes.

One was a deep, blood-red, grotesquely moving, while the other was human, black with bloodshot sclera, wide open with the eyelids forcibly held up, as if pinned there with a stapler or some even more extreme method, forcing them to stay open.

In that eye, there was a look of madness, of horror.

Tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes, one drop, then another, and another.

Drip, drip, drip.

Wen Jianyan smelled the pungent, rain-drenched odor.

The next second, those terrifying eyes moved away.

She turned her head and took a step forward.

She stepped onto the edge of the well, then jumped.

Head down, falling.

“——————！！！！”

Wen Jianyan felt as though his throat was being strangled by something invisible, letting out a silent scream, which then turned into a violent coughing fit that erupted from his throat.

“Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough!!!!”

He smelled many different scents—blood, rot, and… the smell of rainwater.

Damp, eerie.

Tick, tick.

The sound of raindrops began, and cold rain fell on his face, shoulders, and hands, washing away the dirt clinging to his face, one chunk at a time.

The crust of dirt on his face broke, and a small piece fell off.

Wen Jianyan’s eyelids fluttered, struggling to open his eyes.

It took him several seconds to realize his current situation.

He was standing, walking.

His legs, as though defying his will, moved stiffly, step by step, forward, completely unresponsive to his commands.

There were many figures around him.

Wen Jianyan cautiously moved his gaze, peeking through the small crack in the dirt on his face.

No, rather than figures, they were… ghosts.

They moved with the same stiff steps, one after another, and Wen Jianyan could almost hear the “rustling” sound of them moving, feel the cold, eerie presence emanating from their bodies.

“……”

At the moment he realized this, Wen Jianyan’s mind nearly collapsed.

Damn it.

He was walking with a group of ghosts!

What a deathly scenario this was!

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