(10/10)
Yuying University
Chapter 448: “The club recruitment meeting is about to begin.”
Although PE class had already ended, Hugo still hadn’t come out of the gymnasium.
He was alive, just temporarily missing.
But to their team, Hugo going missing was nothing unusual.
In Orange Candy’s words, “He’s used to clearing the game alone anyway. Let him go die if he wants.”
… Crude words, but not wrong.
So in the end, the group decided to return to the dorms early to prepare for tonight’s “club recruitment.”
By the time they reached the dorm building, the sky had completely darkened.
Everything around was pitch black, with only a few scattered streetlights casting dim glows.
“Wait.”
Orange Candy seemed to have thought of something and called out to the others.
She opened her palm. In her small hand lay a few strands of thin red string. “Here. Take one each and keep it on you.”
Tian Ye was taken aback. “This is…?”
“Just take it,” Orange Candy rolled her eyes, too lazy to explain.
“—But don’t touch my hand.”
She emphasized, threateningly, just as Tian Ye reached out.
The others exchanged glances, then obediently stepped forward and each took a strand, keeping it on their person.
Wen Jianyan took one of them and examined it under the light.
The string was a vivid color—an unnaturally rich red, like blood about to drip. It exuded a sinister aura.
“Don’t worry. It won’t harm you,” Orange Candy said coolly from the side.
She lifted her hand and tugged at her collar, revealing an identical red string tied around her neck. “This thing is really hard to find. When this instance’s over, I expect every one of you to return it.”
Wen Jianyan wasn’t worried about that.
While tying the red string around his wrist with one hand, he looked toward Orange Candy:
“You really don’t trust that guy?”
He instantly understood the intent behind her actions.
They’d split up before, but she had never done something like this. Not just because she trusted her teammates’ abilities, but also because deep down, she was a staunch believer in social Darwinism. While she still retained some sliver of humanity and a moral baseline, she had long accepted and adapted to the rules of the Nightmare.
[If you can’t survive now, you’re bound to die later.]
That cold-blooded belief had long taken root beneath her seemingly innocent, childish appearance.
Her unusual behavior this time was clearly tied to tonight’s operation.
A traitor who had almost gotten the entire team killed… and a dangerous situation involving forced sleep that couldn’t be defended against.
Of course, that didn’t mean Wen Jianyan particularly trusted the weasel either.
He simply had confidence in his own judgment—and strong doubts about the guy’s real level of ability.
“Of course I don’t,” Orange Candy said casually with a nod. “You know I hate backstabbers the most.”
She glanced at Wen Jianyan.
Although she still wore her usual cheerful smile, there was an unexpected gloom in her eyes, like heavy storm clouds roiling on the horizon. “A dog that’s bitten its master once will always bite again.”
“…” Wen Jianyan stared at her, saying nothing for a while.
“Well then, see you at the club meeting.” Orange Candy withdrew her gaze and returned to her usual carefree, indifferent demeanor. She waved and skipped toward the girls’ dorm.
The little girl’s voice called out from a distance:
“Don’t break my props!”
Back in the dorm, while his roommates hadn’t returned yet, Wen Jianyan thoroughly searched his bed.
Soon, in a hidden spot beneath the mattress, he found a small, thin, white shard.
It looked like… a human fingernail.
Wen Jianyan stared at it thoughtfully.
Just as he suspected.
Based on his deduction, the so-called “club recruitment” required a coordinate. In the first year, all students who signed their names in the club registry were unknowingly marked as targets—but the bond clearly wasn’t strong or stable. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so easy to divert hatred and attention during the first night with just a prop.
But this time, thanks to their interference, no one had signed the registry—so no coordinates could be created.
Which meant that if the club still wanted new recruits, it had to do things manually.
That’s why the weasel had asked for their exact bed numbers.
To plant the coordinates.
After staring at the thing for a few seconds, Wen Jianyan placed it back.
—After all, it fit perfectly into his plan.
Night fell.
The bell that signaled lights out rang, echoing through the corridor.
The lights shut off. Darkness descended.
Within seconds, the entire dorm fell silent. Everyone drifted into an inescapable sleep.
Wen Jianyan too.
The night deepened, utterly silent.
Ding-ding.
The bone wind chime hanging at the corner of his bed swayed without wind, gently colliding with itself.
Wen Jianyan abruptly woke from his sleep.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway, like shoes dragging across the floor.
It had begun.
Cold sweat seeped from Wen Jianyan’s back.
Still, he kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, maintaining the appearance of deep sleep.
Creaaak—
Just like the first night of the first year, the door opened from the outside. Even without a breeze, the air turned cold.
Wen Jianyan knew—the “club recruitment” process had started.
Scrape, scrape.
Footsteps echoed inside the room.
This time, however, they didn’t pause by any bed but headed straight toward the back of the room.
Wen Jianyan, eyes shut, listened as the sound drew nearer. His limbs remained loose, but beneath the surface, his muscles had tensed.
Not so much ready to fight back… as ready to be attacked.
Scrape.
The footsteps stopped right beside his bed.
A chilling presence loomed beside him. Half his body turned cold, the hair on his arms standing on end.
Rustle.
The curtain was moved aside.
Though he didn’t open his eyes, Wen Jianyan could clearly picture the scene.
A shadow in the dark bent over, slowly reaching through the curtain, its faceless head lowering, inching closer until it nearly brushed his nose—
Breathing.
Inhale. Exhale. Smooth and steady. No fluctuations allowed.
Cold sweat pooled in Wen Jianyan’s palms. That coldness, like it could seep through his pores, pressed down on his face—blank and pale in his mind.
But unlike last time, he was no longer a student who had accidentally made a sound. He was now officially marked prey.
No one knew what would happen under these circumstances.
Drip.
Without warning, something cold fell onto his cheek.
“!”
Wen Jianyan forced himself not to flinch.
He caught a familiar scent.
Sweet, cloying, mixed with blood and dampness—it filled his nostrils, almost choking him.
It was the same scent he always noticed when entering a new scene. The same one he’d once smelled on the weasel’s bed.
Clenching his fists beneath the blanket, fingernails digging into his palm, Wen Jianyan resisted the urge to react. He didn’t know what this thing was doing—but he knew that if he activated his props now and resisted, everything would be ruined.
Drip. Drip.
More liquid dripped down, faster and heavier, splashing across his face, sealing his nose, his mouth—drenching every part of him.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan realized something.
Goosebumps erupted across his skin.
The face in front of him… was melting. The liquid wax-like, sealing over his face, forming a new one.
Like the monsters in the instance.
A damp, swollen, deathly pale face.
Finally, after who knew how long, the shadow at his bedside slowly pulled back with a rustle of the curtain. It turned, walking away with the same dragging steps.
Wen Jianyan remained motionless, eyes shut.
He listened as the sounds receded. The door creaked shut again.
The hallway fell silent.
Everything was still.
That’s it?
Is it over?
Wen Jianyan suddenly realized—
Wait, it was too quiet.
Previously, even in silence, he could hear his roommates breathing, or someone turning over.
But now—nothing. Not a sound. The silence was unnerving.
More importantly, even after the thing had left, he felt no sleepiness at all.
He cautiously opened his eyes.
He could see—dimly—the bottom of the bunk bed above him.
He reached up and touched his cheek.
Though it had been “replaced,” the texture didn’t feel different… just damper than before.
Carefully, Wen Jianyan sat up and looked around.
The dorm was utterly silent, as before.
He climbed down and peeked at the nearest bed—empty.
Its occupant, long gone.
Even though he’d braced himself, Wen Jianyan still felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He let go of the curtain and looked around.
At some point, everyone else in the room had disappeared.
Only he remained.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Wen Jianyan began to understand some of the details from the first year.
Why sometimes the weasel’s bed was empty, with damp traces left behind… and why he could still move even during “forced sleep.”
Rather than waking up—maybe… he was walking through the instancem
in another form.
With his thoughts clear, Wen Jianyan walked toward the door.
The hallway was empty.
He didn’t check other rooms—but he knew they’d be the same. All the anchors had vanished.
Only he could move.
Downstairs, surprisingly, the dorm matron hadn’t disappeared.
She sat unmoving at her desk, head bowed, absorbed in something.
Wen Jianyan glanced at the tightly closed dorm doors.
He wanted to leave—but wasn’t sure if doing so would provoke the dorm matron.
Cautiously, he took a step closer—then saw a crack suddenly split open at the back of her head.
An eyeball rolled out, staring at him.
“!!”
Startled, Wen Jianyan broke out in cold sweat and froze.
The matron spoke, her voice muffled, cold, and inhuman:
“You have one hour.”
“…Got it.” Wen Jianyan swallowed and nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”
He turned and quickly walked out the dorm entrance.
Outside, a vast and blurry world greeted him.
The entire campus seemed shrouded in a gray mist, as if he were seeing it through a membrane—close yet distant. Only one building was clearly visible:
A three-story office building. The windows glowed red.
Even from afar, Wen Jianyan instantly knew—it was the Administration Building, the school’s core.
The place he had desperately wanted to reach.
He exhaled slowly and began walking.
Oddly enough, the distance seemed far shorter than it should have been.
In just a few minutes, the familiar three-story building loomed before him.
The first-floor entrance was wide open, revealing a spacious lobby.
Wen Jianyan composed himself and stepped inside.
As he did, a stiff voice rang out:
“Come register.”
He looked toward the guard room—pitch black. A shadow hunched motionless within. The voice didn’t seem to come from it.
But Wen Jianyan knew—it wasn’t his imagination.
He approached steadily.
The sweet, bloody scent drifted from the guard room.
On the small counter lay a scarlet book labeled [Registry].
No pen. Only a dish of ink.
In the surrounding darkness, the ink looked like freshly spilled blood.
Wen Jianyan paused, then pressed his finger into the ink and left a fingerprint on the book.
A pale hand, joints tinged blue, slowly reached out of the shadows and pulled the book back.
“You may enter.”
Said the guard.
Wen Jianyan turned toward the full-length mirror in the lobby, meant for adjusting uniforms.
It reflected his figure—
With a completely blank, featureless face.
“….”
He averted his gaze and walked into the building.
Unlike last time, when the place was pitch dark and tomb-like, this time, the first-floor club activity area was brightly lit.
The once-shut doors were ajar, red light spilling from inside, accompanied by footsteps and murmuring.
Wen Jianyan approached the nearest room and pushed the door open.
A group of students turned to look at him.
None of them had faces.
“A newcomer?”
One of them spoke. The voice was strange—devoid of tone. More like a rigid, cold NPC than a human.
He pointed at an empty chair.
“Sit down.”
“The club recruitment meeting is about to begin.”
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