In the picture, amidst the misty rain and the rose bushes, a woman lay among the blood-red flowers. Her heart had been pierced by a rose stem, and her blood-stained clothes looked like a blooming rose. Fallen petals scattered across the ground, resembling a spread of blood—a hauntingly beautiful death scene.
While she was still in shock, her body began moving toward the rose bushes, out of her control.
“Yuan Yuan!” Lu Haidi shouted, running toward her, but an invisible barrier stopped him just before the rose bushes. He could only watch as Ruan Yuan walked into the bushes and then lay down among the flowers…
A moment later, Ruan Yuan, pale and drenched in sweat, climbed out of the rose bushes.
Her hair, face, and clothes were soaked from the drizzling rain. Strands of black hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her lips were completely drained of color.
Sensing that the barrier preventing players from intervening had vanished, Lu Haidi rushed into the rose bushes to help her up. He found her body trembling, ice-cold, though he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the chill of the rain.
Looking down, he noticed a thorny rose in her hand, its other end pointed toward her heart.
While piercing a heart with a rose stem might seem implausible, in the illogical world of the game, anything was possible.
He quickly pulled the rose away and threw it aside, supporting Ruan Yuan as they moved away from the rose bushes, glancing back at them as though they were man-eating flowers.
Back inside the greenhouse, Lu Haidi set the rain-soaked Ruan Yuan onto a chair, wrapping her in a clean towel to dry her off.
With a pale face, Ruan Yuan reassured him, “I’m fine, Brother Lu.”
Lu Haidi held her hand tightly, his expression somber.
Understanding his concern, Ruan Yuan squeezed his strong, comforting hand, then looked over at Gu Jiu and Lu Ji. She noticed Gu Jiu thoughtfully observing the rose bushes outside, while Lu Ji watched them with an unreadable expression.
The way she was looking at them was as if she were studying a rare specimen, which left Ruan Yuan feeling slightly perplexed.
Curious, she asked, “Sister Lu, what are you looking at?”
Lu Ji glanced at her briefly but didn’t reply.
Her indifferent and quiet demeanor didn’t bother Ruan Yuan. After all, players often experienced profound personality changes after entering the Multiverse game. Silent types were fairly common and certainly preferable to players with extreme personalities who would turn on others at the slightest disagreement.
Gu Jiu returned her attention to the present and asked, “Ruan Yuan, could I see your camera?”
Ruan Yuan removed the camera from around her neck and was about to hand it over, but then she paused. “It’s broken,” she said.
The camera was indeed broken; no matter what she tried, it wouldn’t turn on. It was as if, after Ruan Yuan had completed her task, the camera’s purpose had been fulfilled.
Gu Jiu didn’t seem overly concerned and asked Ruan Yuan about her recent experience.
“I saw myself dead in the photo,” Ruan Yuan said. “I was lying in the rose bushes, a rose stem pierced through my heart…”
The death scene wasn’t surprising. Gu Jiu asked, “How did you escape death?”
Ruan Yuan gave a bitter smile and replied, “I used a Substitute Card.”
She hadn’t wanted to use the Substitute Card, but in that moment, she realized that none of her other items could help her evade death. The only choice left was the Substitute Card.
Unexpectedly, she had to use it by the third day, which gave her a sense of urgency.
She didn’t know how many more days they would need to survive to clear the game, nor how many more unavoidable deaths they might encounter. If each task was like this and she ran out of Substitute Cards and defensive items, she feared she wouldn’t make it through.
The group returned to the castle’s first-floor hall, soaked by the rain.
Even with umbrellas, they couldn’t completely avoid getting damp from the drizzling rain, which left their clothes and skin feeling cold and clammy. The chill seeped upward from their feet, bringing an uncomfortable sense of death’s shadow.
Gu Jiu frowned, clearly not a fan of the weather.
Lu Ji took out some tissues and carefully wiped the rain from Gu Jiu’s face and hands. Gu Jiu naturally lifted her head to let Lu Ji clean her off.
The scene struck Ruan Yuan as somewhat odd. It was an entirely normal gesture, yet it somehow carried a subtle undertone, as if there were romantic tension between them.
It must have been her imagination.
By the time they returned to the castle, it was already evening. Most of the players had gathered in the first-floor hall, waiting for dinner.
Gu Jiu glanced around, noticing seven people seated there. Including their group, there were eleven players in total.
The remaining players were either still engaged in their filming tasks or had already met their demise—among them were the ones who had portrayed the musician and the clown yesterday.
When they entered, the others looked over briefly before quickly averting their gazes.
No one else appeared by dinnertime, suggesting that their fate was likely sealed.
The players made their way to the dining room.
As on previous evenings, the butler stood by the dining room door, watching them with a look of disdain and contempt, as if he were observing a group of insignificant nobodies.
The butler cleared his throat, about to speak, when someone staggered into the dining room.
Gu Jiu turned to see that it was the player who had played the clown yesterday. His appearance today was equally miserable, his clothes stained with blood, though it was unclear whether it was his own or someone else’s.
The clown player checked the time, visibly relieved that he had made it.
With the clown’s arrival, there were now twelve players in total.
It seemed that four players had died that day.
This realization dampened the spirits of the remaining players; the mortality rate in this game was alarmingly high.
The butler cast a cold glance at the clown player who had just arrived and said, “Please take your seats and review your filming tasks for tomorrow.”
The players hesitated, unsure of what to expect.
Since the first night’s dinner, the players had been allowed to choose their seats freely. Each seat had a unique task note placed on it, meaning that they were, in essence, choosing their tasks rather than the tasks choosing them.
Whichever seat they picked determined the task they would undertake. If they ended up with a relatively simple task that minimized the risk of death, they were lucky. But if they drew a “hard mode” task, it was practically a nightmare.
Gu Jiu and Lu Ji didn’t hesitate much and took the nearest seats.
Seeing this, Lu Haidi and Ruan Yuan also sat close to them, followed by the player who had portrayed the clown. The remaining seven players had no choice but to take the other available seats.
Gu Jiu opened the covered dish in front of her and picked up the note on top.
[You are a grieving widow. To resurrect your lost partner, you have chosen to come to Herlan Castle and make a deal with the devil. At 4:00 AM, you will proceed to the first-floor hall of the castle to perform the resurrection ritual and dance with the devil.]
Gu Jiu: “….” Were they really trying to get her killed?
The other players read their task notes, their expressions shifting unpredictably.
Gu Jiu put her note away, scanning the other players while tapping her fingers on the table thoughtfully.
Once the butler left, the players got up from the table, still unable to muster any appetite for the beautifully prepared food. Though the dishes looked delicious, the constant threat to their lives made even the tastiest meal feel like tasteless wax.
As they left the dining room, Gu Jiu heard someone call her.
“Ms. Gu!”
Turning around, she was surprised to see it was the player who had portrayed the clown. Covered in blood, he looked rather frightening, almost like a murderer.
Lu Haidi and Ruan Yuan also stopped to watch him curiously.
The male player looked a bit embarrassed as he stammered, “Ms. Gu, could… could I exchange information with you?”
Gu Jiu was surprised. “Why did you choose me?” Trust among C-level players was rare; everyone wanted to gather more points and was hesitant to cooperate with others.
“Because you saved us yesterday. I feel like I can trust you,” he said softly. “Plus, I’m realizing that each day, my tasks are becoming more and more dangerous…”
If he didn’t find someone to cooperate with soon, he was certain he wouldn’t survive his next task.
With no other choice, he decided to approach someone for collaboration. If Gu Jiu refused, he would have to try his luck with someone else as a last gamble.
Gu Jiu didn’t refuse. “Alright, let’s go to my room.”
The group made their way to Gu Jiu and Lu Ji’s room on the third floor.
The clown player, who introduced himself as Wan Xingzhou, entered and began sharing his experience with today’s task—playing the role of the castle’s bartender.
“Today, I went to the castle’s wine cellar to retrieve some wine and almost got drowned in a wine barrel. These bloodstains are actually from one of the barrels—it was filled with blood. I accidentally knocked it over, which is how I ended up like this.”
Gu Jiu and Ruan Yuan exchanged a look of sympathy; apparently, being the bartender wasn’t any safer.
“This is my task for tomorrow,” Wan Xingzhou said, handing over his task note.
Before completing a task, players are generally advised not to hand over their task notes to others, in case someone tries to take their task. However, if a task is particularly dangerous, there’s less concern about someone else wanting to take it.
[You are Madam Herlan’s lover. Tomorrow at 1:00 PM, to surprise her, you will hide in the master’s bedroom at Herlan Castle, waiting for her return.]
Reading the task note, everyone’s expressions grew slightly tense, and they looked at Wan Xingzhou with sympathy.
There was no doubt that the elusive Madam Herlan was likely the boss of this game world. Being the boss’s lover certainly wasn’t going to end well.
“Would you call this an unexpected stroke of romantic luck in the game world?” Gu Jiu asked with some amusement.
Wan Xingzhou was deeply distressed. “I… I don’t want this kind of romantic luck.”
Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi were at a loss for words, wondering if Gu Jiu’s reaction was a bit unusual.
What stunned them even more was that Gu Jiu patted Wan Xingzhou on the shoulder, looking delighted. “Wow, what a great task! You’ll actually get to meet Madam Herlan. I’ve always wanted to see her! If she really is the boss of this game world, even better.”
Wan Xingzhou cautiously asked, “Would you want to swap tasks with me?”
Gu Jiu confirmed, “Are you sure you’re willing to trade?”
Wan Xingzhou thought, Gu Jiu’s filming task couldn’t possibly be as bad as his, right?
He nodded, taking the task note Gu Jiu handed over. But once he read it clearly, he was dumbfounded.
This was practically a nightmare difficulty task!