Zhou Ya’s expression froze, and she awkwardly said, “A couple of days ago at the hospital, my companion and I were attacked by a ghost. It was you who let us into the operating room and saved us.”
“Oh, is that so?” Chu Ci’s tone was indifferent.
Zhou Ya knew Chu Ci remembered, but in his eyes, she was nothing more than a minor figure, unworthy of attention.
Wen Yi’s gaze shifted back and forth between Zhou Ya and Chu Ci. His eyes narrowed slightly; this man who had suddenly appeared was too unexpected, throwing his carefully laid plans out of control.
“Zhou Ya, so you all know each other. Would you mind introducing us?” Wen Yi said with a smile.
“Of course, but we’ve been standing at the hotel entrance for quite some time now. If Mr. Wen wants to know, we can discuss it slowly after we return to the room.”
Zhou Ya tidied the stray strands of hair by her ear. She was not a foolish woman. While she lacked a stunning figure or appearance, she had brains.
Since Wen Yi wanted to use her, she would make sure to extract some benefits in return.
Wen Yi smiled and said, “Of course.”
Rainbow-haired Ma Yue, who had no teammates, grew anxious. “What about me?”
“She’s yours,” Wen Yi said, pushing Huang Lina toward Ma Yue.
Huang Lina’s eyes widened, as if she couldn’t believe she had been so easily abandoned.
Ma Yue immediately grinned cheekily. “Thanks, boss.”
At this moment, every player had their own thoughts, and internally, the group was already falling apart.
Inside the hotel lobby, the damaged crystal chandelier was coated with a layer of dust, its light emitting a dim and gloomy glow. Though it was broad daylight, the space exuded a hazy darkness. Cobwebs filled the corners, and a moth with broken wings had fallen into a spider’s web, its blood drained until only an empty shell remained.
“Wel—come—dear—guests.”
As the players entered the lobby, a hoarse, dry voice sounded from the front desk.
A woman dressed in a work uniform stood there, her skin deathly pale and her lips curled into a trademark smile. Her vacant eyes stared directly at the players.
[Is it just me, or does this woman’s smile seem really creepy?]
[The NPCs in these horror livestreams are never normal. They’re either ghosts or psychos.]
[Her smile is so fake—she’s smiling with her lips, not her heart.]
[She’s so beautiful, with such a great figure, but her voice sounds like an old granny’s. Turn off the lights, and she could scare someone stiff.]
“Hello, we’d like to check into the hotel. Please prepare four rooms for us,” Wen Yi said.
“Please—wait—a—moment, dear—honored—guests.”
The eerie receptionist nodded stiffly. The fluorescent glow of the computer screen illuminated her face, casting a faint greenish hue. She raised her hand and began inputting the booking details.
Standing off to the side, Qing Li saw from her angle that the receptionist’s hand resembled the bark of a withered tree, covered with brown spots that looked like corpse blotches.
She sniffed the air lightly but didn’t catch the scent of rotting flesh.
“Thank—you—for—waiting. Your—rooms—are—ready. Wish—you—a—pleasant—stay.”
The receptionist placed four room cards on the counter in front of her.
Her smile remained unchanged, and her eyes never blinked, as if she were a puppet controlled by strings, incapable of making any other expression.
Qing Li placed her hand on the room card. A wisp of cold energy dissipated from her fingertips. The room number 404 was printed on the card, and the back featured a picture of a beautiful woman.
In the painting, the woman sat in a room exuding an antique charm, grooming herself in front of a mirror. Her appearance was stunning—her shoulders half-bare, her neck long and slender, her red lips slightly curved, and her almond-shaped eyes radiating a seductive gaze. It was as if a living beauty were coquettishly staring directly at you.
Wen Yi and Zhou Ya’s room number was 301.
Chen Dalei and Wang Tingting’s room number was 502.
Ma Yue and Huang Lina’s room was next to Qing Li’s, numbered 403.
“Dear guests, please be sure not to lose your room cards. You’ll need them for check-out,” the receptionist said smoothly this time, a faint glimmer of meaning flickering in her pitch-black eyes.
“May I change my room to one next to 301?” Chen Dalei, his wrist in a cast, asked.
Having lost the use of one arm and being paired with a burdensome teammate, he felt uneasy and wanted to stay closer to Wen Yi in case of emergencies.
“Apologies—unless—there—is—a—problem—with—the—room, we—cannot—change—it,” the receptionist reverted to her slow and dragging tone.
Chen Dalei’s expression turned sour as he grudgingly pocketed his room card.
As the group prepared to go upstairs, the receptionist smiled and reminded them, “Dear guests, the elevator is out of order. Please take the stairs.”
By the elevator, the dim light in the stairwell flickered. A layer of dust covered the stairs, and upon closer inspection, faint footprints could be seen in the dust.
“Alright, thank you for the reminder.” Wen Yi flashed the receptionist a charming smile.
The receptionist turned her head, and if someone had observed closely, they would have noticed that only her head moved—her neck remained completely still.
“That receptionist is really eerie, especially her smile—it looks like she’s wearing a human-skin mask,” Ma Yue whispered as they ascended the stairs, the first to voice his thoughts.
“Once you’re back in your rooms, rest well. No matter what happens, do not leave your rooms,” Wen Yi instructed.
Wang Tingting raised an eyebrow. “Has Mr. Wen noticed something unusual?”
Wen Yi shook his head. “Not yet, but I’ve read some horror stories about hotels before. The first rule is to never leave your room, because once you step out, the place you return to might not be the same room—it could be another world.”
His words sent a chill down the spines of the others, a wave of cold creeping up from their feet to envelop their entire bodies.
“Qing Li, have you noticed anything?” Wen Yi turned his gaze to her.
Qing Li frowned, her patience with this man who kept singling her out nearly exhausted.
“That receptionist’s speech was slow and deliberate, except for two specific sentences where her speed normalized,” Qing Li said.
“Which two sentences?” Chen Dalei belatedly asked.
Huang Lina, trembling, answered, “Don’t lose your room card, and the elevator is broken—use the stairs.”
Room card and elevator—those were the key phrases.
Everyone turned their gaze to the room cards in their hands, but aside from the image of the alluring woman, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Ma Yue’s eyes were filled with infatuation as he murmured softly, “The woman on this card is so beautiful, even more stunning than a top celebrity. If I could spend just one night with her, it’d be worth dying for.”
“Hee hee.”
A soft woman’s laugh echoed in Ma Yue’s ear.
“Who’s there?”
A chill ran down Ma Yue’s spine, and he blurted out a shout.
“What happened?” Everyone turned to look at Ma Yue, startled by his sudden outburst.
Ma Yue’s face was pale and drenched in cold sweat. Wiping his forehead, he said in a trembling voice, “I heard a woman’s laughter.”
“But we didn’t hear anything,” Wang Tingting said as she stared at him.
Ma Yue shivered violently. If he was the only one who heard it… didn’t that mean he was the first to be targeted by the ghost?