Lucky Cruise Ship
Chapter 553: It really was you
Wen Jianyan was stunned for a moment, then bent down to pick up the rose.
Who could have sent this?
There seemed to be only one person who had both the reason and the ability to do such a thing.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Oh my, oh my, another rose! Which admirer sent this one?]
[Tsk tsk tsk, this instance hasn’t been running for long, and the anchor is already entangled with so many factions?]
Just as the bullet screen was gossiping frantically, the livestream signal was suddenly cut off, leaving only a line of text on the screen: [Anchor is resting…]
The livestream room immediately erupted in wails:
[???]
[Ahhh don’t!]
[Can’t we even gossip a little! Don’t be so stingy!]
[Sob sob sob anchor don’t do this, don’t turn off the stream!]
After cutting off the livestream, Wen Jianyan looked up and scanned his surroundings, speaking tentatively: “Hello…?”
His voice was like a stone dropped into the sea, receiving no response whatsoever.
Wen Jianyan wasn’t willing to give up. He touched the Ouroboros ring at the base of his finger and whispered: “Wu Zhu?”
The room remained silent.
Wen Jianyan frowned, looked down at the rose in his hand, and twirled it gently with his fingertips.
Strange.
It shouldn’t be.
Just then, Wen Jianyan’s phone suddenly buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts.
It was actually Maggie.
[G-Guild President… there seems to be movement outside my door…]
Staring at the message Maggie sent in the group chat, Wen Jianyan’s expression immediately became serious.
He typed quickly:
“What kind of movement?”
[Seems like the sound of water dripping…]
[Drip drop, drip drop, endless dripping. At first, I thought it was an illusion, but as time passed, the sound became not only clearer but also seemed to be getting closer…]
[Crying.jpg]
He couldn’t see the situation on Maggie’s side through the screen, but just through the text message sent by the other party, Wen Jianyan seemed to still be able to feel the cold aura spreading in from the corridor.
[I heard it too.]
[There are footsteps over at the Ding rooms, and they are approaching this way.]
This time, it was Ji Guan who sent the message in the group chat.
He immediately followed up with a voice message of about seven or eight seconds.
Wen Jianyan tapped open the voice message.
Because it was separated by a tightly closed cabin door, it didn’t sound very real, but one could still hear… stiff and blurred footsteps coming from the corridor.
One, two, three…
Overlapping together, it sounded scalp-numbing.
Wen Jianyan’s heart tightened.
Although he had guessed that the Negative Eighth Floor would fall tonight, had it already invaded the corridor? This was too fast.
“Don’t worry too much,” Wen Jianyan typed back. “Your room locations are toward the front, so you should be safe.”
However, it was hard to say for those living in Bing and Ding rooms.
Since danger had already invaded the corridor… then, most likely, some guests had already been victimized.
“Even so, don’t take it lightly. Set up aura-masking items, don’t make noise, don’t answer the door, and don’t leave the room.”
The phone screen lit up.
Wen Jianyan’s instructions had been sent to the group chat.
Maggie clutched her phone, staring nervously and intently at the door.
Of course, she knew Wen Jianyan was right, but as a medium, her senses in this regard were simply too keen.
Even though she was in a Jia room, her Talent for sensing danger was still screaming alarms. Endless cold, dampness, and malice flowed in along the edges of the door crack, as if gathering into tangible fingers touching her skin. In her senses, the heavy metal cabin door was as thin as a sheet of white paper, capable of being pierced by a mere chopstick.
That was the deterrent force from an SS-rank instance.
Thud thud thud.
Outside the cabin door, knocking sounds came one after another.
The knocking sounds rose and fell, continuously approaching the front end.
Don’t make noise, don’t answer the door, and don’t leave the room.
Maggie stared tightly at the room door, chanting silently in her heart.
In fact, under these circumstances… no one would dare to answer the door, right?
She quietly complained in her heart.
However, just at this moment, her ears caught a trace of strange noise—mixed within the footsteps and knocking was a bizarre “creak,” like the sound of rusty hinges turning as a door slowly opened from the inside.
“?”
Maggie couldn’t help but be stunned.
Shouldn’t be, right?
Under these circumstances, would someone really dare to open the door?
Did she hear wrong?
Just as Maggie was thinking this, she heard a shrill scream mixed with endless fear and despair coming from next door. Like some sharp weapon, it suddenly tore through the deathly silence, causing Maggie to shudder involuntarily.
What? What happened?
Maggie’s pupils constricted slightly, almost in disbelief—she didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to answer the door in this situation, so…
There were only two possibilities: either the cabin door didn’t have the ability to isolate danger, or the person inside was forced by some power to open the door.
Thud thud thud!
This time, the knocking was on her own door.
Maggie shivered, the hairs on her back standing up instantly.
Her gaze involuntarily shifted down to the items at the door—the aura-masking items should have already taken effect, so how come…
THUD THUD THUD!!!
This time, the knocking was more urgent than before. Every sound was like a blow to her eardrums, pressing on her brain until it hurt.
Maggie stared fixedly at the door, backing away slowly and involuntarily until her back pressed against the wall.
Creak.
Under the manipulation of some invisible force, the cabin door slowly turned, opening bit by bit.
Maggie’s heart beat like a drum. Her whole body was icy cold, and cold sweat seeped from her palms. Her medium Talent screamed in her mind, warning her that the danger she faced next was far beyond her capabilities.
She wasn’t a combatant. Facing an SS-rank instance monster alone meant only death.
Please, please, please…
Amitabha, Virgin Mary, Guanyin Bodhisattva, Jade Emperor protect me…
The cabin door slowly opened wide.
A cold figure appeared outside the door. Backlit, its face was hidden in darkness.
Compared to the blurred face, the only thing clear was the terrifying aura on its body that almost froze one’s breath and made movement difficult.
Time seemed to freeze here.
Strangely… Maggie didn’t know why, but she had a weird illusion—that the gaze of those gray-white eyes hidden in the darkness had fallen on her, yet inexplicably passed through her.
Finally… unknown how long passed, when Maggie’s feet were numb to the point of pain, that figure finally moved.
It slowly turned around and walked away step by step.
“Phew…” Maggie exhaled a trembling breath. Her knees went soft, and she nearly collapsed.
Supporting herself to not fall, she ran forward with her fastest speed and slammed the cabin door shut tightly before the next corpse arrived.
After doing all this, the feeling of danger receded like a tide.
Maggie heard more screams from the distance. The damp air, smelling of seawater, was mixed with a heavy scent of rust. Even without listening or looking, she knew many people would die tonight.
Maggie leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor.
Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.
Phones rang one after another, seemingly teammates confirming each other’s safety and discussing everything that just happened.
Listening to the commotion outside, she still hadn’t quite reacted.
So… why was she fine?
Watching the team members reporting their safety one after another in the group, Wen Jianyan let out a long sigh of relief.
Sure enough, just as he guessed, the Negative Eighth Floor was no longer safe tonight. Fortunately, no one in their squad was injured or killed.
Everyone’s experience was largely similar to Maggie’s.
The cabin door was knocked on, and the door lost its protective function, opening under the influence of some mysterious force. However, the corpse’s gaze passed through their bodies as if not seeing them at all. After a long pause, it just left straight away.
[This is related to the main course we missed last night, right?] This was Wen Ya’s first message in the group tonight.
And she had always been keen in such matters.
[Mn.]
Wen Jianyan paused, then continued typing: [I don’t know if you noticed, but all the dishes replaced in my plate were seafood products.]
The group chat fell into a brief silence.
A few seconds later, Blond’s message finally popped up half a beat slow.
[Good heavens… seems it really is.]
He attached a “dumbstruck” sticker after this sentence.
Wen Jianyan missed an appetizer, a soup, and a main course.
Although the dishes in front of everyone were varied, in terms of ingredient selection, these three dishes were very consistent. Maggie’s appetizer was cod, the soup Blond witnessed being taken away was lobster soup, and the main courses were also seafood products.
[Wait, let me straighten this out. So if we ate fish, we become targets for attack at night?]
Wen Jianyan: [I guess so.]
To be attacked tonight required three prerequisites.
Knocking, opening the door, and gazing.
Once locked on by the corpse’s gaze, one would be detected by danger. The three dishes corresponded exactly to these three.
Precisely because under Wen Jianyan’s persuasion, everyone missed the last main course, the last condition wasn’t met, so they weren’t attacked.
Chang Feiyu: [There are traps in these dishes. So, missing them won’t incur punishment. But if we miss other dishes, it would be counted as “impolite” and we would be attacked by the rules. Is that right?]
Chen Mo: [So without figuring this out, to avoid being attacked at the banquet, everyone would choose to eat all the food sent to them… fulfilling all three conditions, and would be detected and attacked by the corpses invading from the Ding rooms at night.]
Wen Ya: [Moreover, since these three dishes themselves don’t represent any death conditions, even mediums wouldn’t sense the danger hidden within.]
Ji Guan: […Damn!]
It had to be said, this setup was truly vicious.
Wen Jianyan thought for a moment: [However, this kind of thing shouldn’t happen again.]
One voyage, only one Captain’s Gala Dinner.
More importantly, the “high-level management” had changed now.
The “banquet” was a game controlled by the manager. Then, the change of manager probably also meant a shift in the style of crisis.
This wasn’t exactly good news.
Especially when they had just figured out the death conditions set by one of the managers.
[Anyway, rest well tonight, see you tomorrow.]
After sending the last message, Wen Jianyan turned off his phone and tossed it aside.
He sat on the narrow hard plank bed, holding that rose in his fingertips, twirling it gently, unknown what he was thinking.
Without sufficient clues, suggesting others do the same as him was essentially a gamble.
Judging from the final result, Wen Jianyan gambled correctly.
Behind the rose was [Help and Hints], not [Traps and Danger].
Staring at that rose for a long time, Wen Jianyan suddenly thought of something. He paused, then slowly disassembled the rose.
In the center of the crumpled paper with crease marks was a line of very familiar handwriting.
Upright but unskilled, strokes horizontal and vertical like a child just learning to write.
“I can’t come in.”
“Miss you.”
Upon seeing this line of words, the stone hanging high in Wen Jianyan’s heart suddenly became light, fluttering down like a feather.
…
It really was you.
The duration of the livestream shutdown ended, and the room automatically reopened. Viewers immediately flooded in impatiently: “Ahhh, one minute apart feels like three autumns!”
“Sob sob sob won’t court death anymore, anchor don’t go offline!”
“Eh? Wait a minute, did the anchor just smile?”
On the livestream screen, the young man lowered his eyes, and the corners of his mouth quirked up briefly.
This expression flashed by.
It seemed even he himself didn’t realize it.
One night passed, and no second attack occurred.
The next day, Wen Jianyan left his room, taking Blond with him on the elevator to the Negative Fourth Floor.
Since they no longer possessed keys for rooms on the Negative Eighth Floor, Wen Jianyan couldn’t return to the Negative Eighth Floor like before. The meeting place for the group was therefore changed to the Negative Fourth Floor.
Along the way, Wen Jianyan was pondering the meaning of the message left by Wu Zhu.
The language Wu Zhu used in the message was a bit too simple—obviously because he wasn’t familiar with human language, meaning his cultural level wasn’t quite sufficient—but even so, Wen Jianyan could still glean a very important piece of information from it.
Although Wu Zhu’s power could still influence the interior of the instance, for some unknown reason, he was isolated outside the instance’s main body, which was why Wen Jianyan hadn’t been able to contact him until now.
Wen Jianyan had a premonition…
This might be related to the fact that the positive floors of the ship were sealed, and all anchors had been active in the negative floors.
The above-ground and underground parts of the ship were almost two completely different worlds. Even before the instance formed, without Wen Jianyan’s guidance, Wu Zhu couldn’t enter the underground floors, let alone after the instance formed.
So, the first time Wu Zhu exerted his influence was at last night’s banquet.
The location of the Captain’s Gala Dinner was the Positive First Floor, which was also the location closest to the outside of the instance.
And the location for drawing room keys was also here.
Similarly, since the Negative Eighth Floor had been breached, the Ding rooms on the Negative Ninth Floor naturally became the weakest area in the negative layers, so Wen Jianyan could see Wu Zhu’s rose again in his room.
Wen Jianyan fell into deep thought.
Perhaps he should try to let Wu Zhu in?
Then the question came.
—How to do it?
Hearing a “ding,” the elevator doors slowly opened.
Wen Jianyan’s thoughts were interrupted.
“Negative Fourth Floor arrived, please watch your step,” the waiter said.
Wen Jianyan nodded and left the elevator one after another with Blond.
Upon entering the Negative Fourth Floor, he saw his team members at a glance and walked quickly toward them.
Watching Wen Jianyan approach, Chen Mo spoke:
“Oracle and the others have already left.”
“Mn.”
Wen Jianyan nodded, not finding this surprising.
Oracle and their group didn’t appear at the banquet last night at all, obviously because they were still pushing downward… Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but frown.
Strange.
Why was Oracle in such a hurry?
“Leaving that aside for now,” Wen Jianyan looked at the few people in front of him, his gaze sweeping over them—although everyone was in one piece and uninjured, they looked somewhat listless, seemingly having not slept well—he asked: “How is the Negative Eighth Floor? What were the final casualties?”
“Quite a few.” Chen Mo looked solemn.
“After we woke up, the corpses from last night were gone, but the impact caused didn’t disappear…”
The carpet was soaked in something unknown, either seawater or blood, presenting an increasingly glaring red. The air held the unique cold dampness of seawater. Many cabin doors were half-open, pitch-black inside, with only a heavy scent of blood to be smelled.
The Negative Eighth Floor was no longer safe.
“Not everyone died. Last night’s attack clearly still had limitations. Each cabin would only receive one attack, initiated by one corpse. So, if one had enough combat experience, survival was entirely possible.” Chen Mo’s eyes flashed. “But by the third night, I estimate there won’t be such attack limitations anymore.”
“I guess no one will dare to continue living on this floor.”
At this moment, the elevator doors opened again.
A team of anchors with calm expressions and sinister eyes walked out.
Chen Mo timely stopped speaking.
Those people’s emotionless gazes swept over them. The atmosphere in the air almost solidified because of this, and some invisible tension began to brew.
The gaze of the leader fell on Wen Jianyan, lingering briefly for a few seconds before slowly withdrawing.
The group continued forward, walking straight into the interior of the Negative Fourth Floor casino.
The tense atmosphere in the air gradually dissipated.
“During the time you guys hadn’t arrived, several teams of anchors have already come down from the Negative Third Floor and entered the Negative Fourth Floor,” Chen Mo said.
Last night’s attack wasn’t just a slaughter, but also a screening.
Only the stronger could stay.
“However, I guess they didn’t stay on the Negative Third Floor for too long,” Chen Mo said.
Wen Jianyan nodded.
“Possible.”
After all, the reason he could discover the hidden mechanism within the Negative Third Floor was largely because Wen Jianyan witnessed Oracle’s departure, but for others, it was hard to say.
“One day has passed. According to calculations, the pressure of debt has already begun to grow exponentially.”
Wen Ya said.
“Starting this morning, the atmosphere between everyone has become very tense—there are already signs of anchors killing each other.”
Especially since the Negative Eighth Floor was uninhabitable tonight. The only way to survive was to spend five million to buy accommodation qualifications for the Negative Ninth Floor.
Debt began to skyrocket.
To survive, people would inevitably resort to unscrupulous means.
Chen Mo turned his head, his gaze falling in the direction those anchors disappeared. He narrowed his eyes and said slowly:
“Regardless, be careful later.”
—From now on, danger no longer came only from the instance.
