Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 382.2: [Instance Error!]
At the same time—
“I am a black team anchor,” Wu Cheng hurriedly explained, “but I’m harmless! Trust me!”
After all, he had sold himself completely to Wen Jianyan through a contract.
Though truth be told, he didn’t really know why Wen Jianyan had instructed him to hide here.
Although he wasn’t sure what the other man had planned, Wu Cheng still obediently followed through on the task. He reached into his pocket and took out a sphere:
“Here. This is the thing you asked me to hold.”
A cold, sinister, and eerie sphere.
“???”
In an instant, everyone recognized what it was—and gasped collectively.
Wasn’t this the exact same item Wen Jianyan had used to replace their prop earlier?
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[……]
[Sh*t.]
[SH*T!!!!]
[Damn! It’s the anchor’s talent!!!]
Fruit of Lies.
Say a lie. If successfully activated, it unconditionally becomes truth for one minute.
[…I just came from the black team… their prop has turned into candy…]
[Damn, is this how the anchor uses his talent?]
[Crap! I do remember he gave Wu Cheng something and told him to hide in a room, but I didn’t realize… My brain just completely didn’t connect the dots. Once the activation conditions were met, the sphere he handed over could be interpreted as a real prop by any system—be it the instance itself, the live stream, or even our own consciousness!]
[Holy sh*t, I just realized—‘Once successfully activated, it becomes truth unconditionally’—this effect is terrifying. It’s basically a causality weapon.]
[He fooled the stream room, the viewers, and even the instance itself… I’m speechless.]
[Holy crap!! I finally understand everything!!!]
“What is it?]
[Do you remember the message he sent to the black team?]
[Yeah, I do.]
[I always thought it was weird why he sent that message after controlling the remaining black team members… Because think about it, that message was basically a hint, not a threat.]
Soon, a viewer pulled up Wen Jianyan’s full message:
[I hope you haven’t killed any of my teammates yet by the time you see this message.
Just a friendly reminder: your side is about to fall into chaos.]
[Damn, it really is… If he hadn’t sent that message, the black team wouldn’t have realized their rear had been compromised, and they wouldn’t have taken red team members hostage to threaten the anchor into handing over the prop.]
[!!! And he even implied, ‘I hope you haven’t killed any of my teammates yet!’]
[Sh*t, now I get it! He was banking on the black team using their usual tactics to take his teammates hostage!]
[But… why?]
[Haven’t you figured it out? Because the anchor killed the hotel manager and let the ghosts inside, so if he wanted his teammates to survive and return to the lobby, he’d need Anise from the black team to control the ghosts.]
[But how could he be sure his teammates would cooperate? Didn’t he confiscate everyone’s phones before the banquet started?]
[You’re forgetting Bai Xue.]
[!]
[Oh right, Bai Xue!]
[He can see life and death probabilities. Cooperating with the black team meant survival. Resisting meant facing the black team and all the ghosts coming in, including that terrifying woman in white… It was guaranteed death.]
[…Oh my god, I’m actually stunned.]
[And did you notice? Even though the whole thing was orchestrated by the anchor, when the black team confronted him, he still acted hesitant.]
[Probably to make it more believable?]
[No, remember the limitation of his talent!]
[Sh*t, one minute!]
[One minute!]
[I went back and checked the VOD—it’s terrifying. He agreed to the black team’s terms with exactly one minute left before the banquet ended.]
[Because his talent only lasts one minute, he had to make sure the black team used the prop within that timeframe. Otherwise, it would turn back into a candy. So he had to stall and only hand it over in the final minute.]
[……]
[I’m dumbfounded.]
[Me too.]
[Damn… this is what they mean by a master manipulator…]
This guy… didn’t just predict every possible outcome—he also leveraged his precise understanding of every person’s personality, pre-calculated their reactions, and then quietly exerted influence in such a way that everything unfolded exactly as he wanted—
Like a puppet master behind the scenes. Like the ultimate strategist pulling the strings.
His control over human psychology was terrifying.
]No wonder the Nightmare countdown glitched… He essentially created a bug—forced it into the gears. The instance had already recognized the item as a key prop and was ready to end the instance, only to realize it was fake… How could it not crash?!]
[Now I finally understand why the anchor was grinning so smugly just now… He fooled literally everyone! Damn it, I have no words—just f*ck!]
As viewers frantically pieced together Wen Jianyan’s strategy in the stream, outside the stream, the red team members finally snapped out of their stunned daze.
They looked at the familiar prop, visibly energized.
Although they didn’t fully understand how Wen Jianyan had done it, there was one thing they were absolutely sure of…
They were guaranteed to win!!!
“Give it to me.”
Wen Jianyan held out his hand.
Wu Cheng obediently handed over the item.
“Perfect”, Chen Mo’s voice was high-pitched with excitement and nerves. “Now we just need to activate the prop and we’re done!”
“Let’s move quickly—back to the banquet hall!”
“But be careful. The other side has probably anticipated this and will have an ambush set—”
Click.
A soft, crisp sound rang out.
Chen Mo’s voice caught in his throat.
“………………”
He stared blankly, dumbfounded at Wen Jianyan, who was right in front of him.
The young man had beautiful hands.
Pale skin, slender fingers. When applying pressure, the tendons rose like winding blue hills beneath the surface—elegant and defined.
At this moment, he was frozen in exactly that pose.
Wen Jianyan let go.
Crushed fragments fell from his palm like tiny white specks of dust, disappearing into the air.
A mist began to seep from the fragments.
Occasionally, it took on human forms—especially the faces of children—before quickly being diluted and dispersing into the air.
The corridor was deathly silent.
Everyone had the same exact expression—staring stupidly at what had just occurred.
……Huh?
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[……]
[……………………Huh?????]
Wen Jianyan dusted his hands, lightly brushing away the last of the fragments from his palm. Then he turned and looked at everyone: “Let’s go. Time to leave this hotel.”
As if realizing it just then, the floor of Xingwang Hotel began to tremble violently. What remained of the walls peeled off in chunks, and the ceiling, floors, and walls were rapidly replaced by pulsating flesh.
[Instance Error!]
[Instance Error!]
[Instance Error!]
Sharp, identical system alerts echoed in everyone’s ears.
Countless eerie figures began to reappear inside the hotel, wandering aimlessly.
They had previously been erased by the rules, but with those rules now broken, everything reverted—and they came back.
Wen Jianyan sprinted ahead.
Behind him, the others followed in a daze, legs moving on instinct, minds still blank.
What… what had just happened?
They didn’t understand.
Wen Jianyan ran in front, his deathly pale face bathed in a faint red light. The glow reflected in his eyes like a subtle crimson gleam.
His expression was calm.
Yes.
This was the decision he made the moment he saw the hotel’s true form—when all the chains linked together in his mind.
First, this instance was a prison, and the ghosts roaming inside were the jailers.
That part was correct.
It wasn’t just Hugo’s conclusion after digging deep into the instance’s secrets—it was also something both black and red teams had separately confirmed through exploration.
So who was being imprisoned?
Wu Zhu.
…Was it really Wu Zhu?
But the question was—who instilled this idea?
If, in this very moment, Wen Jianyan were to ask himself that question, he would be shocked… and come to a terrifying realization.
It was the instance, the Nightmare.
It was the woman in white who had always guided them…
Or rather, the thing that had taken over the body of the woman in white.
From the very beginning, this instance had been created specifically for Wen Jianyan. Even now, he never doubted that. Ever since entering this instance, all the information and clues had blatantly pushed him toward the answer. It wouldn’t be wrong to say he was the preordained victor.
Why?
First, of course, was because the Nightmare needed him to open the “Diorama”
The so-called “Diorama,” if crudely likened to something, was akin to a save point.
Though it depicted past events, if the right person accessed the save, everything—even the timeline—could potentially be altered.
But was it really that easy?
Impossible.
First, the Nightmare couldn’t exert much influence there. Second, from the outcome, it was evident that reality itself had a tendency to snap back to its original timeline—like a bent chopstick rebounding if the force wasn’t strong enough.
Countless theories about time travel existed, yet none had ever successfully influenced the past to change the future.
Which meant that even if Wen Jianyan entered it, there was still a high chance the timeline would play out just as it originally did.
The Nightmare surely knew this—but still allowed it to happen.
Naturally, part of that was because it had no power to interfere. But beneath the surface, there was another deeply hidden reason.
After Wen Jianyan was guided by the painting of the woman in white to the bottom of the well and entered the Diorama, he would witness something.
He would see Hugo venturing deep into the street, retrieving a key item, and unlocking the prison.
With the prison unlocked, Wu Zhu would appear.
And just like that, the logical chain closed.
The “Xingwang Hotel” instance was the prison that contained Wu Zhu’s soul—just like any other instance.
It was the most straightforward conclusion one could draw.
Even for a long time, Wen Jianyan himself didn’t question it—after all, wasn’t that common sense?
Especially after experiencing so many instances, he no longer had any doubts about it.
But as more information emerged, Wen Jianyan began to realize something was off.
The woman in white’s diary, the true nature of the Xingwang Hotel, the massive creature hidden beneath… All of it wove together into a tightly knit web.
The moment Wen Jianyan saw the hotel’s true form with his own eyes, all his questions were unraveled.
Due to his prior experience in the “Changsheng Building,” and seeing so many similar symbols in the Xingwang Hotel, Wen Jianyan had assumed that the hotel shared the same nature—created by humans to protect the surface world.
But in fact, the reality was the exact opposite.
The Xingwang Hotel was something entirely different.
It was a poorly forged imitation, created by non-human entities using the same rules and mechanisms.
Its red glow was dim, it used lanterns instead of oil lamps, and there was no lamp oil. Even the candles in the banquet hall were not the familiar “red candles” Wen Jianyan knew.
It had extended from the dream of a pitiful woman whose mind had been taken over—invading the real world—not something that had existed long ago.
Its purpose was to lure the wandering “ghosts” in the town—those jailers—into the hotel and send them all away.
The entity truly related to the origin of the Changshneg Building wasn’t the grand-looking hotel, but the road that extended into the unknown.
Whether it was the rule “as long as you’re on the road, you’re safe,” or the idea that “only humans can open the door,” these were all in line with the Xingwang Building’s essence of protection.
The road was clearly designed to ensure only humans could pass through, while corpses buried in the tombs could not leave that desolate, dark land.
The town was built at the end of that road.
Perhaps it existed to conceal the road’s location.
After falling into that land of death, Wen Jianyan found a way to return.
One way was to activate an item.
The second was to pass through an empty tomb.
Wen Jianyan chose the second method and, in the identity of a ghost, followed countless vengeful spirits to the road’s end—and saw the real Xingwang Hotel.
The hotel was made of giant heaps of flesh and blood, with only one opening at the bottom.
And that opening was identical to the one Wen Jianyan had seen inside the Ouroboros.
This meant the pitch-black, unknowable hole was connected to this road—and to the thing at its end.
A terrifying world filled with vengeful spirits.
But it was separated by some invisible force.
The ghosts stood at the mouth of the cave, not taking another step forward.
And when Wen Jianyan stepped through the opening, they didn’t follow—clearly, some rule bound them, preventing them from entering the real world.
Once Wen Jianyan understood all of this, every logical loophole was filled. He could finally see the full picture of the instance.
This was a prison—but the ones imprisoned were not just anyone.
It was countless terrifying vengeful ghosts.
And the jailers’ nature, like the red-dressed corpse in the Xingwang Building, was to keep them from leaving their designated place.
The true purpose of the “woman in white” was to conduct a sacrifice—send away the ghosts guarding the road, using the rules they had adhered to in life, so they could be released into the human world.
Unfortunately, before she could complete it, she was discovered by the consciousness of the real human host.
She chose to end her life—jumping into the well with the key item.
And thus, the instance was formed.
The Nightmare stream brought in wave after wave of anchors, using them to send ghosts into the hotel. Although the instance reset, the ghosts did not.
In other words, over time, as the ghosts were gradually sent away, its goal would eventually be achieved.
However, Hugo’s appearance disrupted the balance.
The diorama was created.
The Xingwang Hotel instance was completely closed, unable to be opened again.
Until now.
From the beginning, the “Xingwang Hotel” had always been a instance aimed directly at him.
A sinister double-layered trap.
A gift—wrapped in ribbon, meticulously prepared—just for Wen Jianyan.
Even if he managed to bypass the diorama and prevent the timeline reboot, it didn’t matter. Through that garden, the Nightmare had already successfully implanted the thought it wanted into Wen Jianyan’s mind—patiently guiding him step by step toward the finale—
Getting the item, and activating it at the banquet.
Everything had gone perfectly. But there was one thing the “woman in white” hadn’t anticipated.
Wen Jianyan had made a pact with the Black Side. He couldn’t activate the item until the final three minutes of the instance.
So, the “woman in white” entered the banquet.
It was pressure.
The more terrifying the banquet, the harder the difficulty, the less likely the anchor could survive till the end. Once the crisis escalated to a breaking point, he’d be forced to use the item, ending the instance with a platinum achievement.
Win-win.
Once the item was used, Wen Jianyan would get the platinum achievement, complete the instance, win seat #008, and officially join the Secret Council.
The Gentleman and Anise would get an extra life.
And the Xingwang Hotel instance would fulfill its mission—releasing more ghosts and horrors.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes.
This was the feeling he hated most—being manipulated.
He hated being a puppet.
Especially when treated like an object…
He clenched his hand.
Sharp nails dug into his palm, and a lingering sensation clung to his skin.
The sting of the item shattering had left a faint pain.
Ah, such delicious pain.
Wonderful.
In the play of light and shadow, Wen Jianyan smiled silently.
He was elated.
A strong, almost explosive joy pulsed through every cell in his body.
Ha.
Hahahahahahahahahaha.
If he weren’t currently sprinting, he probably would’ve burst into laughter.
The flashing red light fell on his face. The wind, heavy with the scent of blood, whipped through his hair, revealing his smooth forehead. His gentle features now radiated intense aggression, with a childlike innocence and wickedness flickering in his pale eyes.
Ah…
What could be more beautiful than breaking free of your chains and watching some lofty, overconfident entity’s plan shatter before your eyes?
In the “Integrity First” live room:
Chaotic emotions clashed—none of the viewers knew what was happening.
They argued, debated, theorized, like it would never end.
This is it.
No, no, it must be this.
Is the anchor insane? Does he have another motive? Why has he thrown everyone’s mind into utter confusion??
The chat was in utter disarray, a storm of opinions and curses clashing wildly. They couldn’t even see what they were typing anymore.
Until—
In one moment, Wen Jianyan’s figure appeared on the screen.
Under the influence of some unknown force, the bullet comments fell silent for a beat.
[He’s really beautiful.]
A viewer sighed.
Wen Jianyan ran, laughing.
He was like some wild and joyful, untamable, indefinable being.
Deceiving the whole world, claiming the whole world, and tossing it behind him.
Unrestrained, unpredictable.
Like a storm, or a crashing wave, sweeping through and smashing apart all the confused, furious, and despondent souls—ripping them to pieces, dragging them into his terrifying, free, and feverish energy.
[INSTANCE ERROR!]
[INSTANCE ERROR!]
The mechanical voice echoed again—several times louder than before—like a scream, shrill and ringing in everyone’s ears.
Wen Jianyan blinked and suddenly came to a stop. The smile on his lips faded.
In that instant, something flashed through his mind.
He froze slightly and looked down at his palm.
Perhaps it was the lingering pain from crushing the orb… or perhaps it was a sensation from long ago—something he had already forgotten. A memory—
Someone was tracing a word into the center of his palm, one stroke at a time:
Don’t.
“…”
Wu Zhu?
So, what was his role in all of this?
In the chaos, Wen Jianyan had no time to think.
While he was stunned, the group had already reached the end of the hotel.
Ahead, the door of flesh writhed. Beyond it was a bright light.
[INSTANCE ERROR!]
[FORCED CLOSURE INITIATED!]
