WTNL Chapter 652

Changsheng Building
Chapter 652: Haven’t seen you for a long time

“Has the president returned yet?”

It had been exactly a day since the last instance ended, but there was still no news of Wen Jianyan. While he had experienced similar situations before, his longest period of losing contact had never exceeded this amount of time.

Throughout the day, no matter how repeatedly they checked, Wen Jianyan’s avatar on the points leaderboard remained grey, showing no sign of lighting up.

“No.” Chen Mo slowly shook his head.

Deep, dark circles rested under his eyes, his brow furrowed with gloom, his entire body radiating a depressive hostility brought on by lack of sleep.

The entire guild headquarters was also shrouded in a heavy atmosphere.

“Chen Cheng hasn’t received any news either.” Wen Ya took a deep breath and put down her phone. “Eternal Day seems to be in a complete mess too.”

Dan Zhu, the president of Eternal Day, had also failed to return from the instance, leaving behind not a single word.

As a result, the entire middle and upper echelons of the anchor community had begun to whisper, secretly speculating if they were about to witness the fall of one of Nightmare’s top three.

“What about Oracle?” Chen Mo asked.

“Quiet,” Ji Guan chimed in, resting his newly regained legs on the table. Upon returning to the Anchor Hall, his body had been healed by Nightmare, but beneath his collar, the ferocious blue tattoo seemed even more deeply etched and vivid, looking as if it could burst from his body at any moment. “Gentleman and his group’s names lit up not long after the Lucky Cruise instance ended, but there’s been no movement—although they never had many big moves before, this time it’s somewhat too quiet.”

Su Cheng’s name had also not lit up again—a fact they all tacitly avoided mentioning.

Oracle had shown absolutely no reaction to this.

It seemed the disappearance of a newly appointed vice president was just a trivial matter to them, unworthy of mention.

Since the Lucky Cruise instance ended, the frequency of Oracle anchors going out on instances was higher than before. If previously only a portion of their anchors took outside employment, this time it was almost a full mobilization. However, due to their principle of mysticism and secrecy, no matter how much Chen Mo’s side tried to gather more information, it was difficult to find any useful clues in that stagnant pool.

In fact, since the Lucky Cruise ended, the entire Anchor Hall had plunged into chaos.

The signals of all live broadcast rooms had gone offline simultaneously, and Nightmare Live had fallen into a rare, prolonged state of stagnation and standby.

It was only yesterday, as the live broadcast room system finally came back online, that order gradually began to be restored.

Even if on the surface everything looked the same as before, those with keen senses could already smell the approaching storm.

—A greater upheaval was coming.

“Dark Fire is operating relatively smoothly,” Chen Mo said slowly, tapping his fingertips on the desk, “but their president hasn’t shown up at all… I don’t know what they’re plotting.”

Although they had left the instance, he and Qi Qian were still in contact. Despite belonging to different guilds and having reservations when mentioning their own situations, they both clearly understood the general picture.

“And us?” Wen Ya asked.

Chen Mo’s reply was very concise: “Still under control.”

Although the Lucky Cruise mutating into an instance had exceeded their expectations, fortunately, before boarding the ship, Chen Mo had already conducted a massive purge within the guild with thunderous methods. So even though they lost contact for a period, the guild hadn’t fallen into major chaos. Furthermore, the new recruits Chen Mo brought out of the instance this time, Ma Qi and Kong Wei, appropriately filled the vacancies in management—of course, this was also thanks to Wen Jianyan being a hands-off boss, so his disappearance technically didn’t have much impact on the guild’s operation.

It could be said that all this relied on Chen Mo’s own iron-fisted management, preventing the guild from falling into complete disarray like Eternal Day.

“Are you okay?” Wen Ya asked, looking worriedly at Chen Mo’s exhausted expression. “How long has it been since you rested?”

Chen Mo shook his head: “…I’m fine, not that long.”

But the dark circles under his eyes and the deep crease between his brows clearly indicated the opposite.

Wen Ya shook her head helplessly, forcefully reaching out and pulling him up: “Alright, go get some rest, I’ll take over here.”

Chen Mo: “But…”

“No buts.” Wen Ya gave him a push. “You’ve done enough already. We’ll handle the remaining guild affairs. If there’s any news of the president, I’ll let you know immediately.”

Seeing Wen Ya’s firm, unwavering attitude, Chen Mo had no choice but to sigh and stand up:

“Alright.”

Leaving the guild, Chen Mo returned to his apartment.

His body was exhausted to the extreme; he didn’t even have time to wash up before collapsing directly onto his bed into a deep slumber.

He plunged into a dark dream.

Surrounded by impenetrable shadows, a terrifying aura emanated from the depths of the darkness. Under his gaze, it slowly coalesced into a tall figure.

Upon seeing the face of that figure, Chen Mo froze.

Wait, this is…

While he was stunned, the other party had slowly stepped forward, that handsome, almost somewhat wicked face drawing closer. Chen Mo was startled and jerked back, but before he could retreat far, the other’s voice made him stop.

“I have come to pass on a message for your president.”

This sudden information left Chen Mo’s head buzzing:

“…What?”

The other party didn’t follow up, seeming unready for idle chat: “The Changsheng Building instance is reopening, he needs you to get Oracle’s Gentleman to enter it.”

Dropping this sentence, the man turned directly, unwilling to stay a second longer.

Chen Mo reacted almost immediately, hurriedly shouting:

“Wait!”

The other party paused his steps, tilting his head to look back.

Within the surging endless darkness, those golden eyes gazed coldly from afar, sending a shiver down one’s spine—this “ally” of their president only seemed to show some humanity and emotion in his eyes when he was with him. Once Wen Jianyan was absent, that bit of humanity vanished completely, and even that overly superior appearance only deepened an uncomfortable sense of inhumanity. Under the other’s scrutinizing gaze, Chen Mo steadied himself and voiced his question:

“The president—is the president okay now?”

This was what everyone in the guild desperately wanted to know.

“Is he safe?”

When Wen Jianyan’s name was mentioned, the other party finally seemed less… alien.

“Yes.”

The man answered indifferently, the response perfectly natural.

“He is with me. So, of course.”

“…”

Chen Mo froze for a moment, feeling this sentence was somewhat ambiguous. But before he could react to exactly what was ambiguous about it, the surrounding darkness surged like a tide, swallowing everything before his eyes.

“—!” Chen Mo violently opened his eyes.

He sat on his messy bed, forehead covered in cold sweat, the surroundings dim.

Even though he had woken up, everything that had just happened in the dream was so clear, showing not the slightest sign of fading, that he couldn’t possibly brush it off as a simple dream.

Without even taking time to think too much, Chen Mo scrambled out of bed and rushed immediately to the guild.

Just as he arrived at the guild, before even entering the door, he ran into Wen Ya, who wore a grave expression.

Seeing her face, Chen Mo’s heart skipped a beat: “What is it? Did something happen in the guild?”

Wen Ya: “I just took a nap, and then I had a dream…”

Chen Mo: “Wait, you too?”

Wen Ya was also stunned: “Ah? What do you mean? You had it too?”

“Yes.” Chen Mo nodded. “Let’s go up and discuss the details.”

Sure enough, after carefully comparing, they were certain the contents of the dream were exactly the same. Although they didn’t know how Wen Jianyan’s non-human “ally” did it, he apparently did have the ability to traverse dreams and could use this to pass on messages for Wen Jianyan.

“Is what he said true?” Wen Ya’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. “The Changsheng Building instance reopening?”

An instance that was already platinum reopening?

This was the first time they had heard of such a thing.

“More importantly, how do we get Gentleman to enter an instance he knows is already closed?” Wen Ya asked.

Chen Mo, looking grave, shook his head.

Oracle’s movements were already mysterious, recently to the point of completely shutting themselves away. And Gentleman was one of Nightmare’s top ten; if he wanted, he could avoid entering an instance for half a year.

Wanting him not only to start entering instances again but also to enter a specific instance, the difficulty was obvious.

Their president really knew how to give them tough problems.

In this situation, they would probably need some outside help.

Twenty minutes later, the office door was kicked open, and Chen Cheng’s lackadaisical voice came from outside, carrying a hint of excitement:

“Hey hey hey, did your president send you a dream? What’s going on?”

“You guy…” Behind him, a cold, irritable voice sounded, “Are you always this noisy? Can you be quiet for once?”

It was Qi Qian.

“Is this your turf? Is it any of your business?” Chen Cheng sneered.

Even before they had time to enter, the two were already bickering back and forth.

“Are you two done?” From the back, a little girl’s voice chimed in. Though smiling, her tone clearly revealed a hint of impatience. “If you want to argue, go inside. Don’t block my way.”

Orange Candy had also arrived.

And behind her, trailing like a ghost, was Bai Xue.

Chen Mo: “…”

He turned to look at Wen Ya: “You called everyone?”

Wen Ya: “…No.”

So why did so many people come following the scent!

Chen Mo sighed, stood up helplessly, and used all his diplomatic skills to finally welcome the people outside peacefully.

Orange Candy hopped onto the highest chair with a grin and sat down:

“Knowing you guys ran into a problem, I called everyone you could use. How about it, touched?”

Chen Mo: “…”

Wen Ya: “…”

Touched, so very touched.

To prevent this group from causing any more trouble, Chen Mo cleared his throat and used the most concise language to quickly recount the previous “dream.”

“My dream was basically the same,” Wen Ya said. “We already compared notes.”

“And…”

Chen Mo’s expression faltered for a moment, “The person passing the message this time is, uh, an ally of our president, so… the source is at least trustworthy.”

As he said this, his tone carried a subtlety he found hard to control.

“As someone from Dark Fire, I shouldn’t interfere in this kind of matter,” Qi Qian narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “But I’m always very interested in anything that can cause Oracle to suffer a loss.”

“Guild? I don’t care,”

Chen Cheng propped his feet on the table, looking completely indifferent,

“Eternal Day is a complete mess right now. Even if it goes under tomorrow, it has nothing to do with me—Ouch, what are you doing?”

It was Wen Ya who, seeing him speaking wildly, suddenly kicked his stool.

“Anyway…” Looking at the chaotic office, Chen Mo only felt a headache coming on. He took a deep breath, trying to bring the topic back on track, “The problem now is, how do we get Gentleman to enter the Changsheng Building?”

“That, Bai Xue can do.”

Orange Candy shrugged.

After all, back then, they were able to precisely enter the supposedly closed Sweet Dreams Orphanage instance by relying on Bai Xue’s talent.

“But the premise is he is willing to actively enter an instance,” Bai Xue, who had been playing cards since entering the door, raised his head and added quietly.

He could indeed make someone randomly enter a specific instance, but the premise was that the other person actually wanted to enter an instance.

And right now, given Oracle’s silent strategy and Gentleman’s own ranking on the leaderboard, trying to get him to actively enter an instance recently was an almost impossible task.

Suddenly, the air fell into a dead silence again.

“This, I can manage,” Qi Qian pondered for a long while before speaking slowly.

Everyone was taken aback and turned to look.

“It concerns some private matters between Oracle and Dark Fire, I won’t go into the details,” Qi Qian said. “But in short, I do have a way to ask Oracle to enter another instance.”

There weren’t many people inside the Oracle guild who could take commissions right now. With Dark Fire’s face, getting Gentleman to step up wouldn’t be too hard.

“Won’t your president have a problem with you doing this?” Orange Candy raised an eyebrow.

Once Gentleman failed to die in that instance, Dark Fire and Oracle were bound to tear off their masks and become enemies—although the two guilds were already at odds, they had at least maintained a superficial peace for years.

“…Most likely not.” Qi Qian paused, but didn’t prepare to explain further.

He raised his eyes: “Furthermore, based on your president’s past battle records, he is worthy of my trust.”

Soon, with everything discussed, this short meeting finally came to an end.

Qi Qian turned and walked out, but before he took many steps, he suddenly stopped and hesitantly turned to look at Chen Mo and the others.

“Um… there’s one last thing.”

“?” Chen Mo stopped his movements and looked up.

“Although I know this is none of my business, I really find it hard to control myself from asking…” Qi Qian’s expression was complicated. “What exactly is the relationship between your president and that… uh, friend who can send dreams?”

As soon as these words came out, the others who were just preparing to walk out all immediately stopped in their tracks, even Bai Xue. They all turned their heads in unison, clearly very interested in the answer to this question.

“Right right, I’ve been wanting to ask,” Orange Candy, like Qi Qian, had only learned of Wu Zhu’s existence in the Orphanage instance for the first time—so she fired off a series of questions like a machine gun. “So what exactly is the deal with that guy? Since he’s not human, what is he? You said he’s an ally with your president, what kind of alliance is it? How was it formed?”

Wen Ya: “Uh…”

“Wait, ally? An ally is like that?” Chen Cheng crossed his arms, seeming to recall some very specific scenes, his expression growing increasingly suspicious. “I think this matter is still up for debate, right?”

Chen Mo: “Uh…”

“Speaking of which, so is your president’s orientation towards men or women?”

“Wait, is ‘non-human’ an orientation?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I heard…”

“Hey!” Orange Candy yelled in exasperation, “You two, watch it, Bai Xue is still here!”

Not far away, Bai Xue kept his pure black eyes wide open, listening without a word.

Wen Ya and Chen Mo: “…”

President, if you don’t hurry back soon, you’re probably going to be outed without even knowing it.

Outing him is a small matter, but if he’s labeled with some weird kink, that’s a big deal!

Wen Jianyan knew nothing about the rampant “rumors” inside his guild.

He was currently casting his eyes down, thinking and calculating something unknown.

Suddenly, Wen Jianyan seemed to feel something. His eyelashes lifted, and his gaze shifted forward.

Wu Zhu had returned.

“Finished?” Wen Jianyan asked. “Told them everything?”

“Yes,” Wu Zhu stepped forward, answering without changing his expression.

“Good, then we should start too.” Wen Jianyan rotated his neck and shoulders, giving a soft chuckle.

The “customers” who had taken the same train with them had smoothly proceeded to the final floor. Before a new batch of customers arrived, it was the best time for them to act.

“Let’s go, first floor first.”

Wen Jianyan said.

Just like when they first arrived, the first floor was dimly lit, exuding an eerie, cold aura. Only the faint candlelight flickered inside the shops.

Wen Jianyan glanced around and pointed out: “The paper figures in this one, this one, and those few over there stay. Take all the rest.”

The Changsheng Building was too large, and there were too many shops. Having the anchors’ actions scattered like this was not entirely to his advantage.

The wick of the oil lamp flickered and was pinched out with a “hiss.”

The second floor and the third floor were the same.

The handsome young man walked slowly down the corridor, his gaze sweeping over the shops at hand as he lightly issued commands. Behind him, the lights went out one by one. A tangible darkness followed his footsteps, swallowing the light wantonly like a vicious beast.

And that vicious beast was completely obedient to him.

Finally, the two arrived at the fourth floor of the Changsheng Building.

Normally, unless the red lamp oil was lit, the hidden fifth floor wouldn’t appear.

But this time was clearly an exception.

Wu Zhu reached out his hand to Wen Jianyan: “Give me your hand.”

Wen Jianyan paused for a moment, then placed his hand in Wu Zhu’s palm, their fingers intertwining.

“Close your eyes,” Wu Zhu said.

In the darkness, Wen Jianyan was led forward step by step by the hand tightly gripping his. Suffocating, oppressive shadows pressed in from all sides, but were firmly kept out by an invisible barrier. Soon, the texture of the ground beneath his feet changed.

“Okay,” Wu Zhu said.

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Appearing before him was a winding, muddy path. Not far ahead on the path was an old courtyard house.

Two lanterns, one red and one white, hung at the courtyard gate, emitting an ominous, cold glimmer.

Seeing such a familiar scene, the terrifying memories associated with it flooded his mind. The pursuit that had occurred on this path previously vividly reappeared before his eyes.

“I remember this place,” Wu Zhu suddenly spoke.

Wen Jianyan was roused from his memories by him: “…Huh?”

“You taught me how to kiss you,” Wu Zhu said.

Wen Jianyan: “…”

…Damn it, there’s that too.

“Haha,” he gave two dry laughs, trying to brush it off, “Did I?”

“Yes.” Wu Zhu looked down at him, his golden eyes shining brightly in the darkness.

“You said you’d teach me something else next time,” he repeated exactly what Wen Jianyan had once said. “You promised it would be even more fun next time.”

Wen Jianyan’s head buzzed.

Along with Wu Zhu’s recounting, more vivid images flooded his mind, each scene equally shameful, even far surpassing the terrifying memories of being chased by a ghost just now.

O-okay, that’s enough.

He moved his fingers, trying to break free from the other’s grasp, but was gripped even tighter.

Wu Zhu took a slow step forward.

“And then you used this as an excuse to stab me at the end of the instance.”

Wen Jianyan: “…”

He pulled Wen Jianyan’s hand to his own chest, where an uneven scar lay beneath his clothes.

“Here.”

Wen Jianyan: “……”

“First of all, you deserved that stab,” he gritted his teeth. “I’d stab you again.”

“Secondly, don’t play innocent with me. Weren’t you the one who got hard after being stabbed?”

“Yes.”

Wu Zhu answered straightforwardly and calmly, without hesitation.

Now, it was Wen Jianyan who choked.

“After all, in that situation, it was hard for me to hold back.” Wu Zhu looked down at him, a blazing fire burning in the depths of his eyes, similar to what Wen Jianyan had seen when they were bathed in blood, carrying an aggression as if wanting to tear him apart and chew him up. “The pain at that time was very interesting, very…”

“Stop stop stop, that’s enough!” Although he knew Wu Zhu lacked human shame, Wen Jianyan was completely unprepared to directly face the other’s shocking statements.

So he spoke quickly, interrupting him:

“Since you don’t care about that stab, why bring it up?”

“Because you didn’t fulfill your promise, of course.”

Wu Zhu pressed his finger against Wen Jianyan’s face, forcing the other to turn and look directly at him—even though he had been stabbed in the chest, what he cared about more was actually that Wen Jianyan hadn’t made good on the excuse he used to kill him.

“You said you’d teach me.”

When saying this sentence, Wu Zhu’s tone actually carried a hint of…

Grievance?

This association was too strange; Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but be momentarily distracted.

But he was quickly pulled back to reality by the other’s actions.

Unbeknownst to him, Wu Zhu had pressed close, shortening the distance between them to almost nothing.

He pressed the pad of his finger into the young man’s warm skin, rubbing gently and slowly, his gaze dark and focused, carrying a danger incongruous with his gentle action:

“So, when do you plan to fulfill it?”

Even the most docile beast could turn on its master.

Even if he had willingly allowed a chain to be put around his neck, he had always coveted the master holding the other end of the chain. Once he found an opportunity and tasted the sweetness, he would recklessly display his originally greedy and ferocious side.

Especially when it involved the unfulfilled portion of a promised debt.

“W-wait… about that… I really don’t have anything else to teach you.”

Tip of nose against tip of nose, disordered breaths intertwining.

Wen Jianyan’s voice was tight.

“You’ve graduated, really.”

To be fair, Wu Zhu truly was a good student who surpassed his master… Wen Jianyan didn’t even want to recall those parts where the other had “learned without a teacher.”

“I don’t believe you,” Wu Zhu replied crisply.

In fact, he really couldn’t be blamed for not believing him. After all, Wen Jianyan’s track record in this regard was indeed a bit too extensive.

Wen Jianyan: “……”

What else did he want? Did he really want him to teach him step by step how to top him?! He only had rich theoretical knowledge!

More importantly, given the “weight” he had felt on the train, Wen Jianyan was truly worried he would be stabbed to death in a different way the first time.

Wait, no.

Wen Jianyan shuddered.

Why was he actually considering this?

“Fine, it’s my fault for not keeping my word, but we still have things to do,” Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, calmed down, and began to bargain. “How about this, I’ll kiss you once as compensation, how about that?”

“Ten times,” Wu Zhu said.

Wen Jianyan: “Two times.”

Wu Zhu: “Five times.”

“Three times!” Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth. “Final offer, if you don’t agree, get lost!”

“Alright,” Wu Zhu compromised.

“But it can’t be on the cheek.”

That was precisely the spot Wen Jianyan had pecked just before sending him to deliver the message.

Wu Zhu’s finger landed on his lips, his gaze burning:

“Here.”

He pressed his hand against the back of Wen Jianyan’s neck, pulling him closer, his voice very low: “And, it has to be deeper.”

The vicious dog had faithfully carried out all of its master’s commands, and now it was time to demand its reward.

When he finally stepped into the courtyard, Wen Jianyan’s steps were still unsteady.

His expression was as gloomy as could be, but his lips were hot and swollen.

Wu Zhu, who was being deliberately ignored, followed slowly behind, looking quite pleased.

Inside the courtyard house, the oppressive, low-ceilinged rooms exuding an eerie ghost aura were exactly the same as in his memory.

The rooms that were originally filled with paper figures were now completely empty—if Wen Jianyan guessed correctly, they were now all inside the shops of the Changsheng Building, existing as “clerks.”

In the center of the north room was a heavy coffin, and behind it was a long table with candlesticks and offerings.

The coffin was covered in scarlet paint, like sticky, undried blood.

And sleeping inside the coffin was the female corpse in the red dress, who maintained the operation of the entire instance.

Wen Jianyan took out the bronze mirror, placed it on the table behind, took a deep breath, and nodded to Wu Zhu: “Open the coffin.”

Creaaak—

The heavy coffin lid, which would normally require two people’s combined strength to barely push open, seemed weightless in Wu Zhu’s hands, easily moved aside.

Inside the coffin was pitch black, and a chilling aura spread out.

An extremely cold female corpse lay rigidly inside the coffin. She wore a blood-red wedding dress and a matching veil over her head, lying motionless at the bottom of the coffin.

Her pale, livid hands, covered in liver spots, were crossed over her abdomen, the fingernails a dripping scarlet.

Wu Zhu looked up at Wen Jianyan. Not knowing what he remembered, he suddenly said, “You looked very good when you wore this outfit.”

Wen Jianyan: “…”

Wu Zhu: “Next time—”

“Shut up, you.”

Wen Jianyan, his face dark, raised his hand and tossed the brass knife to Wu Zhu.

“Hurry up, make it quick.”

The moment the female corpse disappeared from the coffin, an immediate change occurred within the Changsheng Building.

The power that had constantly maintained its operation was withdrawn. The relentlessly operating gears ground together, falling into a standstill after a brief struggle. Endless darkness surged from all directions, swallowing the entire building in the blink of an eye.

In front of the coffin, an unprecedented chilling sensation pressed down from above.

Wen Jianyan shuddered and slowly raised his head.

This was the first time he had personally experienced the oppressive feeling when Nightmare took over an instance.

The malicious, decaying power filled the air, whispering as it seized and corroded every corner of the space bit by bit.

Wen Jianyan could even feel the invisible power reaching out to him, the puppet strings falling upon him, attempting to regain control of its puppet—but the moment it touched him, the power was blocked by an invisible barrier.

Wen Jianyan froze and looked down.

At his chest, Wu Zhu’s golden heart emitted a faint glimmer.

At this moment, Wen Jianyan finally understood why he hadn’t returned to the Anchor Hall like everyone else after the Lucky Orphanage instance ended, but was instead excluded from the Nightmare Live system.

Because Nightmare couldn’t find him.

It had granted him and Wu Zhu the same authority—the ability to detach from the instance.

At the same time, in the Hall of Achievements within Nightmare Live, the platinum trophy belonging to [Changsheng Building] vanished into thin air without warning.

No one noticed this.

Except for Ji Guan, who had been staring at it for a long time.

He took out his phone and immediately called Chen Mo, who was holding the fort in the guild:

“It’s time.”

“You can begin.”

Gentleman had no intention of entering any instance at this time.

The Lucky Cruise was a crushing defeat for him.

When Su Cheng obtained the pass to the deepest level and Nightmare prevented him from taking it back, Gentleman was puzzled and furious.

He couldn’t understand; he was clearly the most loyal and efficient servant, but the one ultimately chosen was that guy Su Cheng… that unbeliever and betrayer, not him!

Even so, Gentleman eventually gritted his teeth, swallowed all his emotions, and executed the order without objection.

He and his team disembarked the ship early.

But what happened next far exceeded his imagination.

Nightmare Live briefly went offline.

Although instances could still be entered and exited normally, the live broadcast rooms remained offline. Furthermore, no matter how hard Gentleman tried to reestablish contact with Nightmare, all that awaited him was silence in his mind.

This was the first time Gentleman felt panic.

Oracle had been abandoned by God.

Under his orders, the prophets began taking on a massive amount of missions, entering instances to gain more and higher points—the zealots who had lost their God began desperately proving their faith regardless of the consequences.

However, the problem didn’t improve.

Although the live broadcast signal returned and Nightmare came back online, Oracle received no further divine revelations.

And right at this moment, the commission from Dark Fire arrived.

Although Gentleman was distracted and didn’t want to enter an instance again so soon, the alliance formed with Dark Fire wasn’t something he could ignore just because he wanted to. Nightmare’s neglect also made him anxious about gains and losses, and he was even more unwilling to clash with Dark Fire at such a juncture, lest he prove his incompetence once again.

What’s more… he still harbored some secret hope in his heart.

If he performed well, maybe, just maybe, he could regain Nightmare’s favor?

So, Gentleman accepted Dark Fire’s mission and entered the instance.

The bright red countdown reached zero.

The familiar, high-pitched female voice echoed in his ear.

[Welcome to Nightmare Live, the next live broadcast will begin immediately!]

[Our motto is—Entertainment to Death!]

When he opened his eyes again, Gentleman was already standing in a vast empty space.

Above his head was a pitch-black sky. A grayish-black building stood not far away, exuding a dark, cold aura. On the metal plaque on the wall were four large characters:

[Changsheng Building].

…Changsheng Building?

For some reason, the name of this instance felt somewhat familiar to him.

Gentleman paused. Something seemed to flash quickly through his mind, but before he could catch it, it slipped away from his fingertips.

Whispers from behind pulled him back from his thoughts.

“…Hey, look, is that…”

“Holy crap, it really looks like…”

“Why would an anchor of this level come to this instance?”

“Does that mean the difficulty of this instance is…”

As one of Nightmare’s top ten, Gentleman had long been accustomed to such discussions. An elegant smile habitually hung on his face. He turned his head but didn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

Gentleman couldn’t help but freeze.

He looked up, following the gazes of others around him towards the distance.

A tall man stood not far away, his eyes drooping wearily, a cigarette held between his fingertips. His expression was lazy and indifferent. Even though he was just standing there doing nothing, he gave off a strangely oppressive feeling that deterred anyone from approaching.

…Hugo?

Gentleman paused, a rare look of surprise crossing his face.

He truly hadn’t expected that Hugo would also participate in this instance.

He stepped forward, preparing to engage in some practiced socializing, but before he took many steps, a hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“Long time no see, my friend Gentleman.” The voice was gloomy and sticky, with a strange, unnatural static that made it very uncomfortable to hear.

Gentleman frowned and turned his head.

A short man stood behind him. His already extremely thin body now seemed as thin as paper. His skin was pale and clammy, his large, bulging eyeballs darting around. His somewhat praying mantis-like appearance was now doubly mutated, making him look like a giant insect wearing human skin.

Anise.

The former 8th ranker of Nightmare, who was supposed to have died after failing the position-exchange battle with Pinocchio in the Xingwang Hotel instance. However, because he had left a portrait inside the gallery beforehand, he unexpectedly survived.

But after that, Anise had almost never appeared in public again.

Even Gentleman didn’t know where he had been during this time.

Gentleman hid his surprise extremely well.

“Mr. Anise, what a surprise.”

His handsome, proper face displayed his habitual polite smile; no one could see what he was really thinking through that flawless mask.

“It has indeed been a long time.”

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