(4/5)
Chapter 633: Got you.
On the other side.
Inside the dilapidated, massive building, the light was strikingly dim. The gray haze in the air reduced visibility to its worst, and the temperature was very low. The cold, damp air silently crept into collars and invaded the skin, making everyone shiver uncontrollably.
Bai Xue led the way, his pace urgent. The others chased after him, their synchronized footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as if fleeing from something.
“What happened?” Behind him, Chen Mo asked in confusion. “What exactly is chasing us?”
Bai Xue shook his head, honestly giving the answer: “I don’t know.”
He could only perceive changes in “probability.” As for why the probability changed or how it changed… without any specific clues, he found it difficult to give an answer.
Chen Cheng frowned. “Then how can you be sure this will work?”
Bai Xue said nothing.
Wen Jianyan: “So… where are we going now?”
“This is not an instance area in the strict sense, so the area of activity is very limited,” Bai Xue uncharacteristically answered with a long sentence. “Therefore, I will choose the path with the highest probability of survival for us.”
“Wait, so you mean all we can do is keep running?”
Chen Cheng seemed to realize something, his brow furrowing even tighter, his breathing and voice somewhat unstable.
Bai Xue remained silent.
Chen Cheng: “…”
Seriously, you’re just targeting me, aren’t you?!
“How is your condition now?” Just then, Wen Jianyan turned his head, his gaze falling on Chen Cheng. “Is it bad?”
Chen Cheng’s eyes flickered, inexplicably feeling like he had been seen through.
“…I can hold on,” he said stubbornly.
But only Chen Cheng knew that he probably wouldn’t last much longer.
Strictly speaking, this was his fourth consecutive instance.
After leaving [Yuying Comprehensive University], he entered the Top Ten Competition without much rest. Once that ended, he seamlessly started the [Lucky Cruise] instance, and now this god-knows-what place…
Both physically and mentally, Chen Cheng had been drained to his limit.
Now, he was only holding on by sheer, inhuman willpower to avoid collapsing, forcing his legs to move just to barely keep up with the others in the team.
He could feel… his body’s functions were on the verge of collapse.
Hearing his words, Wen Jianyan frowned slightly, unsure if he believed him or not.
He suddenly quickened his pace and came to Bai Xue’s side:
“Go this way.”
“…”
Bai Xue paused, subconsciously looking at Wen Jianyan. His pitch-black eyes tapped lightly in the void, and he frowned. “But…”
He could clearly see that the direction Wen Jianyan chose was extremely dangerous, with a terrifyingly low probability of everyone surviving.
However, Bai Xue stared thoughtfully at Wen Jianyan for a moment, and finally nodded:
“Alright.”
Thus, the group followed Wen Jianyan closely, moving quickly through the dark, decaying corridor.
Not long after, Wen Jianyan stopped.
In front of them was a wall.
A dead end.
“It should be right around here,” Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, scanning the gray wall, murmuring to himself as if searching for something. “Where exactly is it…”
“Everyone, look around; there’s a hidden door nearby.”
Wen Jianyan pressed his temples, seemingly trying to awaken distant memories.
“Feel along the surrounding walls. It’s hard to find with your eyes, but easy with your hands…”
Hearing this, everyone was stunned, looking at Wen Jianyan with confusion.
Although they were accustomed to Wen Jianyan’s vast knowledge and strong memory, this time, things seemed to go beyond logical deduction, appearing a bit absurd.
How did he know so clearly?
Could this guy predict the future or something?
“Don’t just stand there,” Bai Xue spoke, his cold voice carrying a rare sense of urgency. “We don’t have much time.”
Indeed.
Everyone snapped out of it, ignoring the source of Wen Jianyan’s information, and scattered to feel along the walls, searching for the possible location of the hidden door.
Ma Qi stood slightly towards the back of the group, also raising her hand to feel the wall.
Suddenly, for some reason, she shivered.
“…”
Ma Qi’s pupils constricted slightly. She subconsciously turned her head to look behind her.
Behind her was emptiness.
The path they had just walked was shrouded in darkness, leaving only a deep, lightless area, utterly silent—no figures, no footsteps—nothing.
Ma Qi suddenly trembled all over. As if sensing something, she opened her mouth:
“Hey…”
But the next second, all sound from her throat vanished.
“?!” Ma Qi’s eyes widened in horror. She subconsciously raised her hand to touch her throat. Under the thin skin, her larynx trembled with difficulty, but no matter what, she couldn’t make a sound.
However, not far away, she clearly heard her own voice.
“Over here!” Ma Qi heard her voice ring out nearby. “I found the way!”
“Mmph! Mmph mph!”
Most children in the orphanage were malnourished, with thin arms and legs that couldn’t compare to healthy, sturdy, normal children—especially since Orange Candy had three people on her side.
With almost no effort, the brat was caught firmly and pinned to the ground.
“…Wait, what does this mean?”
Wei Cheng looked at Orange Candy, his small face full of blank confusion, as if dizzy from the sudden influx of information.
“Who are you? This guy is—is—”
He lowered his voice, ensuring only they could hear: “—Pinocchio as a child?”
“Mn.”
Orange Candy was sparing with her words.
Not far away, Zhao Ran held the brat down, locking his arms tight.
Half of the child’s face was buried in the dirt, his mouth stuffed full, leaving only a pair of surprisingly bright eyes staring at them from below, wild and untamable.
He seemed to realize his strength was insufficient, so he stopped struggling. But it didn’t look like he had given up resistance; instead, he seemed to be plotting some mischief.
Orange Candy curled her lips into a vicious smile:
“One hundred percent, absolutely no mistake.”
When she was tricked before, she had already felt an indescribable sense of familiarity. However, since she wasn’t good at thinking deeply, and the conjecture was too bizarre, Orange Candy hadn’t thought much about it—until now. With all the facts laid out neatly in front of her, no matter how obtuse she was, she should have connected all the clues.
“But why?”
Wei Cheng’s brow furrowed even tighter.
Although they figured out the brat’s identity, the mysteries before them seemed to multiply.
Why would a child version of Pinocchio appear here as an NPC?
In their experience, there were generally two types of NPCs in instances: living people who died during the instance’s formation, or anchors who experienced the instance and were assimilated and left behind—but Wen Jianyan was alive and well, seemingly belonging to neither category.
No matter which direction they thought in, it seemed shrouded in fog.
“God knows.”
Orange Candy rolled her eyes.
She never liked contemplating these complex things. “Break the game first. Maybe we’ll find out as we go—even if we don’t, once we leave here, isn’t there a grown-up version of this guy? He’ll tell us all the answers.”
Wei Cheng: “…”
Sometimes, he really admired his captain.
Although simple-minded and rough in action, she was inexplicably practical and effective at times.
“Then how do we deal with him next?” Wei Cheng asked.
Orange Candy walked up, meeting the other’s gaze, and crouched down in front of him.
“Hey, brat.”
She lazily shook the white tin box in her hand—the broken glass, small marbles, and cloth strips had all been picked up and put back. As she shook it, they hit the walls of the box, making clinking sounds.
“Do me a favor, and I’ll return the stuff to you. How about it?”
She glanced at Zhao Ran.
Zhao Ran understood and removed the hand blocking the other’s mouth.
But the brat still didn’t speak.
He stared at Orange Candy without a word, seemingly pondering something.
After a long time, he slowly said:
“What favor?”
“We want to go to the top floor,” Orange Candy said concisely.
The orphanage had four floors in total. However, only the first floor was available for the orphans to live and sleep. The floors above the second were strictly off-limits to them, except for occasional cleaning duties assigned to selected children.
The highest they had climbed was when they sneaked into the cleaning crew, but they were still stuck on the third floor.
However, before they could start looking for a way to continue up, this guy jumped out and completely disrupted their plans.
“Why go there?”
The brat looked at her and suddenly asked.
“None of your business,” Orange Candy laughed.
“I know you have quite a bit of prestige here,” she played with the white tin box in her hand, narrowing her eyes and speaking slowly. “Not only do many kids listen to you, but even the Mommas occasionally listen to your opinions—getting us into the cleaning squad shouldn’t be hard for you, right?”
The child looked at the white tin box in Orange Candy’s hand, then at her, seemingly in thought.
Suddenly, a roar came from behind:
“Who’s there!?”
What?!
Orange Candy’s pupils constricted. She jerked her head up and saw a faceless Momma standing in the shadows—wait, the patrol gap time shouldn’t be over yet!
The faceless Momma appeared not far away, her featureless face turned directly toward them, emitting a chilling aura.
“Eh!” Zhao Ran was distracted, and his grip loosened.
The brat he had pinned down seemed prepared. He immediately seized the opening, slipping away like a live fish.
Orange Candy’s pupils shrank.
She remembered.
Wen Jianyan never took unprepared risks—even if he went alone, he would leave a backup plan.
This faceless Momma was definitely lured here by him!
Under the cover of twilight, the brat gave her a hateful smile.
He waved at them gloatingly, then turned around, his small figure nimbly slipping into the shadows like a fish into the sea, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Not far away, the faceless Momma walked over quickly, her heavy steps on the ground bringing a suffocating pressure.
“…”
Staring in the direction he disappeared, Orange Candy ground her teeth so hard they almost shattered.
She clenched her fingers tightly, crushing the white tin box until it creaked, and mentally added another mark—
The sixtieth time!!!!
In the darkness, Ma Qi realized with horror that she couldn’t move.
Her feet seemed rooted deep into the ground. The silent, formless darkness seized her, stealing warmth and strength from her body.
Cold sweat trickled down from her forehead, stinging her eyelids painfully.
Her trembling eyeballs moved slightly.
In the pitch blackness, a pair of bright red footprints appeared on the ground not far away.
The footprints slowly imprinted on the ground, approaching step by step—
From the depths of the darkness came her own voice:
“Quick, come over here!”
No, no, no—I didn’t say that—it’s a ghost, it’s a ghost!!
Move, move!
Ma Qi heard her heart pounding in terror. She struggled desperately, trying to regain movement.
I have to warn the others, I must…
The next second, a warm hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder.
Like some spell being broken, Ma Qi instantly found she could move again.
“Quick, run!”
Wen Ya’s voice sounded right next to her ear.
She grabbed Ma Qi’s hand and pulled her into a mad sprint.
The viscous darkness dispersed like fog.
Not far ahead, Chen Mo stood by a gray wall. Behind him was a narrow, hidden door that only one person could pass through.
He waved at them, his tone urgent:
“Over here!!”
Ma Qi stumbled forward, plunging headfirst into the hidden door.
Wen Ya followed closely, slamming the door shut behind her.
Ma Qi leaned against the wall, her knees shaking, her whole body looking like she had been fished out of water.
She opened her mouth and found she could make a sound: “Thank you, thank you…”
“You should thank Bai Xue,” Chen Mo said.
Ma Qi was stunned, subconsciously looking up to meet the boy’s pitch-black, cold eyes.
“He realized the voice wasn’t yours and acted to change your state.”
However, Bai Xue shook his head:
“I cannot make the danger disappear completely—especially death-level threats.”
The reason Bai Xue was regarded as ominous by other anchors in Nightmare was precisely because of this.
All altered fates come with a price.
The boy raised his eyes, staring fixedly at where the hidden door closed, and said, “It will chase us in another way.”
Almost the instant his voice fell, a loud BANG came from the hidden door!
The sound was abrupt, making everyone shudder. They turned their heads in shock, looking in the direction of the sound.
The hidden door shook, dust falling down in showers.
Wen Ya and Chen Mo, closest to the door, reacted first. They lunged forward, pressing their bodies firmly against the hidden door—a chilling cold seeped through the wood against their skin, as if trying to freeze their bodies through the door panel.
Separated by a thin door, outside was endless death and darkness.
“Fuck!” An Xin cursed, jumping up. “This door won’t hold for long. We have to keep running!”
Bai Xue looked at the corridor behind them and said with certainty: “There’s no way out.”
What?
Everyone was stunned.
Following Bai Xue’s gaze, they looked deep into the corridor.
There were quite a few doors here. logically, there shouldn’t be no way out, right?
An Xin walked forward quickly to one of the doors.
The door was welded shut into the frame like steel. There wasn’t even a keyhole, offering no chance to open it.
He froze: “How can this be…”
“I said,” Bai Xue spoke. “We are not in a formal instance. The area of activity is very limited.”
“We… can’t… hold on much longer!” Wen Ya hissed.
Where she pressed against the hidden door, the skin under her clothes had unknowingly turned a pale green. She could feel her body becoming extremely cold, as if being eroded by death bit by bit.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan seemed to realize something. He turned to Ma Qi, speaking very quickly:
“What happened when you were attacked just now? Tell me.”
Ma Qi was stunned. Although she didn’t know why, she summarized the situation in full detail—including how she lost her voice, how she heard her own voice appear not far away… etc.
After listening, Wen Jianyan turned to look at Bai Xue: “Before we appeared, you didn’t encounter similar dangers, did you?”
Bai Xue nodded.
“—Then I know what’s going on.”
Wen Jianyan said quickly.
He pulled out the makeshift oil lamp made from materials on the train and swiftly lit the gray-white lamp oil.
With a fwoosh, a weak light lit up, enveloping the group.
“Quick, gather around me!” Wen Jianyan raised his voice.
He looked at Chen Mo and Wen Ya holding the door: “You two too!”
The two exchanged a glance.
Although they didn’t know why Wen Jianyan made this decision, they took a deep breath, let go simultaneously, and then jerked back, entering the light under the lamp.
Darkness poured in from outside the door.
The next second, the lamp’s wick flared up, but the light was suppressed by shadows, shrinking smaller and smaller.
In the blink of an eye, the air became incredibly cold, and the smell of rotting corpses flooded their noses, making their stomachs churn.
In the tangible darkness, even with the lit oil lamp, they still couldn’t see anything. They could only hear several stiff footsteps approaching from the distance.
Listening to the footsteps pacing around them, cold sweat broke out on everyone.
Unknown how much time passed, the footsteps moved away.
The oil lamp finally stopped burning violently and calmed down. The weak light began to spread, gradually illuminating the darkness.
It was over.
Everyone sighed in relief and looked around.
Everything seemed the same, but the surrounding ground was covered in bloody footprints. The footprints were dense, seemingly circling repeatedly just outside the light before gradually moving away into the distant darkness.
Wen Jianyan’s palm holding the oil lamp was wet with sweat.
He slowly let out a breath, his voice still trembling slightly:
“…It’s the passengers from the train. They chased us down.”
Just a little hint was enough for Wen Jianyan to clarify everything and connect all doubts.
If he didn’t pay for the ticket, he couldn’t enter the “train’s” rules, and rules always treated everyone equally… whether passengers were human or ghost.
The train hadn’t reached [Changsheng Building] but stopped halfway.
Passengers who entered the rules normally wouldn’t get off outside the designated stops. However, for those “passengers” who hadn’t paid ghost money, the train also lost its means of restraint—so these passengers would leave the train and enter the next stage of the process.
“Purchasing”—or rather, “seizing”—the human body parts they needed.
That was why Ma Qi lost her voice and heard her own voice coming from a ghost’s mouth.
Her voice had been forcibly seized.
However, only after Ma Qi received ghost money would the entire process be considered complete.
During the bloody footprints’ approach, Bai Xue keenly sensed something was wrong and used his talent to forcibly change the probability, terminating this process.
Precisely because he figured this out, Wen Jianyan lit the oil lamp.
According to the rules of Changsheng Building, the light of the oil lamp could protect those within it, preventing them from becoming goods for customers to choose. Thus, these “passengers” bypassed them and continued into the darkness.
However, this safety was temporary.
Because in this entire building, apart from them, there were no other living people.
Although the lamp oil could ensure temporary safety, it would eventually run out. Moreover, whenever passengers approached, the oil lamp would burn violently. At this rate, maybe three or four more times at most, and they would be dead for sure.
After listening to Wen Jianyan’s explanation, everyone fell silent.
“Then… what do we do?” Wen Ya asked slowly.
Wen Jianyan pondered for a long time. Suddenly, he turned to Bai Xue:
“Since we aren’t in an instance in the strict sense, the area of activity is limited—but broadly speaking, we can’t say we aren’t in the instance either… right?”
This sounded awkward, stunning everyone who heard it.
But Bai Xue seemed to understand.
He looked steadily at Wen Jianyan and nodded.
“We are on different planes of the same building as Orange Candy,” Wen Jianyan spoke very fast. “However, she is in the real one, the ‘front,’ while we are on the ‘reverse’ side.”
“And if this guess is correct… then, as long as Orange Candy can make changes to the instance over there, our world here will have corresponding changes.”
Everyone paused, suddenly realizing.
Although their doors here couldn’t be opened by any external force—Orange Candy’s side was different!
“Of course, provided they haven’t entered the next loop,” Wen Jianyan added.
Starting a loop meant everything reset. Even if Orange Candy opened the door, if they didn’t arrive in time before the reset, it would all be in vain.
He thought for a moment and held out his hand to Bai Xue:
“Give me the phone.”
“I have to call them again.”
It was night.
The orphanage was shrouded in darkness, falling into a deathly silence.
The huge room was filled with sleeping children.
For children their age, the chores here were too heavy, enough to exhaust everyone. Even though the food supply was stingy and everyone was hungry, they could still fall asleep quickly.
Even the anchors were the same.
Orange Candy curled up on the small bed that was a bit cramped for her, eyes closed tight, breathing evenly.
In the darkness, an exceptionally small shadow slid silently from the corner.
Light as a feather, quiet as a breeze.
After observing quietly from a distance for a long time, the small shadow finally began to act.
He crept sneakily to the side of the small bed.
After confirming that Orange Candy lying on the bed had no reaction and seemed to be truly deeply asleep, he quietly reached out his hand—
Carefully… stealthily… reaching toward the white tin box under the pillow.
The next second, Orange Candy suddenly opened her eyes. Her ready hand shot out like lightning, accurately grabbing the other’s bony wrist!
“!!!”
The brat shuddered in fright.
Like a startled small animal, he instinctively turned to flee, but his arm was firmly caught. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t break free from her iron grip.
“You know what? Someone told me in advance—after having your ‘treasure’ that you saved for years taken away, you would never let it go. So, in the middle of the night tonight, you would definitely try to steal it back.”
Staring at the other’s panicked eyes flashing in the darkness, Orange Candy slowly curved her lips into a smile.
“Anyway, compared to him, your level is much lower.”
She smiled sinisterly.
“Finally caught you, you little brat.”
