Thank you @Eline for the Kofi. (1/6)
Lucky Cruise
Chapter 568: Eighteen underground floors
Wen Jianyan had known from the very beginning that the Lucky Cruise had a total of eighteen negative levels. furthermore, inside the special gacha machine on the Negative 4th Floor, one of the special grand prizes was the key to stay on the Negative 18th Floor. But… to think he was actually on the Negative 18th Floor right now?
But what did this imply?
The small iron plate weighed heavily in his palm; it was mottled with rust, the numbers barely visible.
Wen Jianyan stood rooted to the spot, feeling a chill shoot straight up his spine.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[?]
[Why is the anchor stunned?]
[Is knowing he’s on B18 such a huge shock to him?]
The answer was affirmative.
While everyone else was struggling to survive in this instance, simply preparing to stay alive until the voyage ended so they could leave, Wen Jianyan had realized long ago—
That path might work for others, but for him, following the path prescribed by the Nightmare and obeying its rules would likely lead to a dead end.
Even if the voyage ended, there was a high probability he wouldn’t be able to leave the instance.
This was a lesson learned from ‘Yuying Comprehensive University’.
Therefore, from the start, Wen Jianyan never intended to obediently wait for the voyage to end. Instead, he had been continuously probing downward, searching for the core of the instance.
Only by finding the core could the instance be dismantled.
According to his understanding of instances within the Nightmare, in this kind of layered structure that required descending level by level, the deepest layer was often the core layer. The Oracle’s desperate attempts to explore downwards at the start of the instance only confirmed this speculation from another angle.
And now, Wen Jianyan had arrived at the Negative 18th Floor so easily.
For others, this might be cause for ecstasy, but Wen Jianyan only felt cold all over.
Because he caught a glimpse of the true meaning behind this.
If this floor really was the instance’s core, could it really be as simple as a storage area for “Auction Items”? What awaited him next was likely an even harsher crisis, and Wen Jianyan was all alone, completely unprepared.
But if it wasn’t…
That would mean Wen Jianyan’s previous speculations were completely overturned. Continuing to go deeper might have nothing to do with the instance’s core. Misled by the Oracle, he might have chosen the wrong path from the very beginning.
“…”
Even though the surrounding air was cold, a fine layer of sweat seeped out on Wen Jianyan’s back.
Regardless of which possibility held true, it was bad news for him.
Wen Jianyan closed his eyes, forcibly gathering his chaotic thoughts. Then, clutching the iron plate, he turned and walked back the way he came.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[? Didn’t he not finish searching this room? Where is the anchor going?]
[I don’t know, but looking at his hurried appearance… does he have an idea?]
Wen Jianyan indeed had an idea.
He strode across the cabin, walking straight toward the outside. Soon, he stopped in front of the half-open cabin door.
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, his gaze searching the door, finally settling on an inconspicuous corner—there, a rust stain could be faintly seen, as if something had once been stuck there but had been removed for some unknown reason.
It looked to be exactly the same size as the iron plate.
In such an abnormal instance, the disappearance of a door number was normal; it signified the erasure of information.
But finding the missing doorplate inside the cabin was not normal.
—So, here lies the question.
Who took it down?
Why, after taking it down, did they not take it away, but instead simply placed it inside the cabin, waiting for it to be found?
There was only one way to get the answers to these questions.
“…”
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, picked up the doorplate with the faintly visible numbers, and cautiously, slowly, pasted it back in its original spot.
The next second, a bone-chilling coldness rose before his eyes.
Bzzzt…
Inside the cabin, after a brief flicker of the lights, they suddenly and violently extinguished without warning. In an instant, the entire cabin plunged into darkness where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face—Wen Jianyan couldn’t see, but he could feel…
In that endless pitch-black space, some existence seemed to be reviving, stirring.
And then… it suddenly pounced!
“—!”
Wen Jianyan jerked back—clearly, he had anticipated this scene, which was why he could make such a split-second decision.
With a loud BANG!, he dragged the cabin door shut, slamming it back into the frame. Almost in the next second, a continuous, rapid knocking sound came from inside the door:
Thump thump thump thump thump thump!
Under that force, the cabin door vibrated, nearly shaking out of its frame.
“…”
Wen Jianyan gasped for air, slowly backing away, staring at the tightly closed door with lingering fear.
Unknowingly, sweat had soaked his back, his palms were clammy, and the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing on end.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[…Holy crap.]
[Is that the thing that was trapped in the room last night?]
[I’m afraid so. I estimate that these cabins are like pocket dimensions. As long as the door number is removed, the things inside can never come out and can only bang on the door at night.]
[Damn, does that mean by putting the door number back, the anchor actually released it? So if the door is opened again, it will invade completely?]
[…Very likely.]
Amidst the hair-raising, continuous knocking, Wen Jianyan turned his head and looked at the corridor beside him.
In the endless corridor that had previously extended outward continuously, seemingly without end, a light had extinguished at some point—the area beneath it turned pitch black, and the corridor seemed shorter than before.
Seeing this, Wen Jianyan’s heart sank.
He could naturally guess what the audience in the livestream was observing, but…
Even knowing the consequences of this action, he had to continue doing it.
Because only in this way could he possibly leave this floor and escape his current predicament.
Dammit.
Wen Jianyan cursed silently in his heart, then braced himself and strode toward the next room.
With the experience from just now, what he did next was far more practiced and rapid than before.
In the corridor, lights extinguished one by one. The illuminated area grew smaller and smaller. The long corridor, which had seemed endless and boundless, gradually shortened during this process, seemingly offering a hope of walking out.
Finally, only the last light remained in the corridor.
Wen Jianyan held the last doorplate, looking up at the only remaining light overhead—except for him and the few square meters beneath his feet, everywhere else was shrouded in infinite darkness.
“…”
He slowly took a deep breath, seemingly mentally preparing himself.
Finally, after steadying his mind, Wen Jianyan slowly stepped forward and returned the last doorplate to its position.
Pop.
The overhead light went out.
Instantly, the entire corridor plunged into bottomless darkness.
In that suffocating, dead silence, Wen Jianyan could only hear his own rapid breathing and the sound of blood pumping through his veins. Every muscle in his body was tense, pulled taut as a bowstring.
After losing vision, all other senses became acute.
And so… he heard it.
Creak— Creak—
One after another, the unlocked doors turned on hinges that had lost their lubrication, opening one by one in the darkness.
“!!!”
Wen Jianyan’s hair stood on end.
Almost without needing to think deeply, he immediately understood the principle—light guaranteed safety, so the “things” inside the doors only revived when night fell. However, as the doorplates were returned and the corridor lights extinguished, the arrival of darkness meant the failure of all protection.
Those “things” were free!!!
With no time to think, Wen Jianyan turned around, summoned all his strength, and sprinted wildly in the direction away from the noise!
The temperature of the surrounding air dropped at an unstoppable speed. In just a few seconds, it became bone-chillingly cold.
With adrenaline soaring, Wen Jianyan could barely feel the change in temperature. There was only one word in his mind: Run!
Although losing the light meant losing protection, it also meant this corridor was no longer anomalous—it had become a place one could run out of.
And according to the door numbers Wen Jianyan had observed, the direction he was running now should be the direction of the elevator leaving this floor.
Although he couldn’t see, as long as he kept running in that direction, he could leave this place!!!
Muscles screamed, bones groaned, and his body’s functions were pushed to the limit.
His heartbeat pounded against his eardrums like a war drum. Beyond the rushing sound of his own blood, he could hear the sound of cabin doors opening one after another behind him and feel the terrifying aura approaching, making him tremble to his very bones.
Suddenly, gravity inverted, and balance was lost.
Wen Jianyan heard the clinking of chains, and a few seconds later, he felt the terrible pain from his ankle—only then did he realize belatedly that he had been tripped.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[Hiss!!!]
[Ouch!!]
[How did the anchor trip at such a critical moment?!! He was so close!!]
[But to be honest, dressed like that, moving in the dark, with hands, neck, and feet all chained up… It’s a miracle he ran this far before tripping.]
[Quick, quick, get up!]
These damn chains are restricting his movement!!!!
Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth, enduring the piercing pain in his ankle, and struggled to climb up.
The danger approaching from behind was one thing, but more importantly, during the fall just now, the box containing the Dead Sea Scrolls had flown out of his hand, lost somewhere in the dark.
Dammit!!
Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but curse internally again, a wave of uncontrollable anger rising in his heart.
He could hardly believe that after all his calculations and careful steps, he was actually dragged down by the chains on his body at the very end!
Literally dragged down!
Fuck!
Suddenly, while searching frantically, he touched something—not the cold iron box, but some soft, cold object. It seemed like a living tentacle brushed against his fingertips and climbed up his wrist.
Wen Jianyan froze.
The next second, familiar darkness closed in from all directions, like an airtight embrace, shutting out all the chill, making him almost feel…
Safe?
And in the second, after Wen Jianyan’s thoughts settled, shadows crept up his ankle.
The entangled chains were undone by an invisible force. Immediately after, it covered the youth’s swollen, almost scarred ankle beneath the chains, like a brief, gentle touch.
The next second.
The sharp pain in his ankle miraculously vanished.
“…” A sound grumbled in Wen Jianyan’s throat, seemingly about to call out a familiar name, or perhaps vaguely piece together a “thank you.”
At the same time, the fingertips that had been groping in the dark for a long time finally found their target in a corner of the corridor.
A crumpled ancient book.
The Dead Sea Scrolls.
Wen Jianyan’s heart, which had been hanging high in his throat, suddenly relaxed.
He gripped the regained item tightly and quickly stood up, supporting himself against the wall.
Great, now he just needed to get up and leave this place, and it would all be over…
But then, the sensation from his fingertips diluted his joy. A strange yet familiar feeling triggered long-buried memories, causing Wen Jianyan’s movements to pause involuntarily.
Because, unlike the withered, dry texture he had imagined, the pages of the Dead Sea Scrolls felt so soft and fine to the touch. It didn’t feel like paper at all, but rather like…
Human skin?
A current of electricity shot up Wen Jianyan’s back.
He shivered, seemingly realizing something. Accompanied by the noisy clinking of chains, the Dead Sea Scrolls were flipped open in the darkness. His urgent fingertips searched rapidly through the book—finally, they touched a gap deep within the pages, a short, jagged stub, as if two pages had been torn out from there.
That was it.
It was this.
The human skin paper he had obtained in the ‘Ping An Asylum’ instance and the human skin paper the Oracle claimed to have obtained in the ‘Xingwang Hotel’ which led them to the framing shop… they were all torn from the Dead Sea Scrolls!!!!
This crystal-clear fact struck Wen Jianyan like a bolt of lightning.
“Time to go.”
A whisper came from beside him. “Count down three, then run.”
Wu Zhu’s voice seemed somewhat restrained, as if enduring some immense, invisible pressure.
“Three, two, one.”
The safe aura surrounding him retreated, and the freezing air stung Wen Jianyan’s skin once more.
Wen Jianyan couldn’t see, but he could vaguely sense that the darkness around him seemed to press back toward the rear, as if engaged in a stalemate of equal forces.
Time was not abundant, and his ally in the dark was by no means omnipotent.
At most, he could buy a few seconds of breathing room.
But that was enough.
Almost without time to think, Wen Jianyan scrambled up, summoned every ounce of his strength, and sprinted wildly into the darkness.
How long did he have to run? He didn’t know.
Just run.
The darkness made vision irrelevant. Wen Jianyan ran blindly forward, gritting his teeth, searching for the exit located somewhere unknown.
Amidst the chaos, the sound of machinery operating came from close at hand.
It sounded like an elevator running from top to bottom, stopping at this floor.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened in the darkness. Blood-red light stung Wen Jianyan’s eyes, which had grown accustomed to the dark, but it also illuminated two familiar faces.
Identically impeccably dressed, identical beasts in human clothing.
Gentleman.
And standing behind him, smiling, was Figaro.
