As Gu Jiu contemplated her options, Lord Herlan continued to pursue her relentlessly.
Lord Herlan’s ferocity was no less intense than that of Madam Herlan, and his strength even appeared to surpass hers. Several times, he nearly managed to injure Gu Jiu, but fortunately, Lu Ji intervened, frequently launching a powerful kick to send Lord Herlan flying.
The players watched in awe at those slender yet powerful legs, wrapped in pants, and couldn’t help but swallow in admiration. This young woman’s legs were so long and straight, the kind that one could admire forever without growing tired. They could only imagine how mesmerizing she’d be as a mature woman.
What they envied even more was the sheer strength in those legs—strong enough to kick a man like Lord Herlan away without even breaking a sweat.
Poor Lord Herlan, like an obstacle, was kicked away multiple times but still returned, undeterred, to attack again. Such resilience was, in its own way, commendable.
After sending Lord Herlan flying once more, Lu Ji grabbed Gu Jiu’s hand, urging her to run forward.
While Gu Jiu had impressive combat ability and bursts of strength, her stamina was still lacking. She remained the delicate young lady she had always been, and this hadn’t changed even after reaching the C-level arena. It seemed that only after advancing to a higher-level arena and fully awakening her demon bloodline would she achieve complete transformation.
A few small paper figures trailed behind, tripping the dark, shadowy figures that pursued them and, when Lord Herlan wasn’t paying attention, jumped into his hair to cause subtle mischief.
The players didn’t notice these small paper figures as they raced forward with all their might.
They finally escaped the fourth floor and ran up the staircase leading to the fifth floor of the castle.
Upon reaching the fifth-floor staircase, they were nearly overwhelmed by the sight of a crowd of black shadows clogging the passage, giving them the feeling of being stuck in a tourist attraction on a holiday.
However difficult the path ahead, they had no choice but to press on, no matter how daunting.
The players weren’t afraid of challenges; they feared only the lack of a path forward.
Wielding her dagger as a weapon, Gu Jiu decisively struck down the shadowy figures blocking her path, turning them into mere remnants beneath her feet without hesitation.
With her spiritual eye, she could see that these figures emerging from paintings were not truly human but a mass of ghostly creatures emanating a sinister red glow. She felt no obligation to show mercy, especially since these monsters were out to kill them. Gu Jiu was far from soft-hearted enough to spare any demon lurking in her path.
Lu Ji followed closely, defending against attacks from the sides.
Their coordination was flawless, carving a path of blood through the thick crowd.
Wan Xingzhou led the way with his sword, sweeping it forward to widen the path Gu Jiu had cut open.
Yuan Yuan wielded her fan, and with every swing, shadowy figures fell to the side, their fate uncertain. Lu Haidi protected her, holding a bloodstained blade in his hand.
The other players displayed their array of skills, killing and blocking as they forged a path upward like a sharp spear.
Suddenly, Gu Jiu hissed in pain.
Lu Ji turned sharply, noticing that the fabric on her arm had been torn by some sharp object, revealing scratches that resembled claw marks, blood seeping out from them.
His dark eyes flashed like swirling black whirlpools. In an instant, Lu Ji identified the culprit responsible for the wounds on Gu Jiu’s arm.
He turned to look at a figure hidden within the dark crowd, his keen senses quickly detecting the bloodstains on its fingers.
A paper frog jumped to the ground, skillfully leaping through gaps in the crowd until it reached the dark figure. With a wide mouth, it swallowed the figure whole.
The paper frog gave a very human-like burp, releasing a wisp of black smoke.
This silent scene went unnoticed, and nobody realized that a dark figure had disappeared from the mass of shadows.
A journey that should have taken just a minute had stretched to nearly an hour. Finally, the players arrived on the fifth floor of the castle.
However, by now, the players were in a miserable state, most of them bearing some form of injury.
Lu Ji stared at the wound on Gu Jiu’s arm. In all the time they’d been teamed up, aside from that first encounter when she was injured by the ghost doll, she’d never suffered a scratch.
Gu Jiu didn’t seem too bothered. Despite her usual temperamental demeanor, she didn’t mind these unavoidable wounds.
The fifth floor of the castle was silent, its spacious hallways empty.
Compared to the previously crowded dark horde, the vast, quiet space here brought a sense of relief to the players. They truly didn’t want to face another terrifying crowd upon reaching the fifth floor.
The players glanced back, noticing that the dark figures were dispersing. Whether they feared the fifth floor or simply couldn’t follow, the players felt a collective sigh of relief at their retreat.
They sensed that these “people” probably couldn’t follow them onto the fifth floor.
The players stood in the fifth-floor corridor without moving forward.
After a moment of careful observation, they instinctively looked to Gu Jiu, asking, “Should we proceed?”
Ruan Yuan observed the scene, suddenly realizing that, unbeknownst to everyone, Gu Jiu had become the unofficial leader of the group.
Even the players might not have realized it themselves; they already subconsciously respected her, trusted her, and sought her opinion, placing her guidance above all else.
Even Ruan Yuan found herself instinctively wanting to report anything of note directly to Gu Jiu.
Gu Jiu stared at the empty corridor for a moment, then pulled out a paper crane.
The paper crane rubbed against her hand before flying down the hallway.
The players watched it intently. Moments after it entered the corridor, something seemed to grab it, and the paper crane crumbled into pieces, scattering onto the floor.
Everyone: “!!!” What was that?
Gu Jiu understood immediately. “The corridor likely holds many figures from the paintings. Since we haven’t entered yet, we can’t see them.”
It seemed that the fifth floor of the castle was somehow separated from other spaces. Players who hadn’t stepped into the corridor could not see the true nature of the fifth floor, one of the limitations of the game’s rules.
The butler had mentioned, “No entry to the fifth floor of the castle outside filming hours.” Since it was currently outside filming hours, they couldn’t see the fifth floor’s true form. Venturing inside might even put their lives in danger.
Ruan Yuan pondered, “So, if we walk into the hallway, we’ll see whatever crushed the paper crane?”
Gu Jiu nodded, then directed their attention to the paintings hanging on the walls of the corridor. “Look at the paintings on the walls.”
Everyone followed her gaze, and from their vantage point, they could only make out a few of the nearer paintings.
“I see a few paintings, and they seem… blank,” someone murmured.
“Are they really blank? Could it be some kind of trick?” another speculated.
“When we step inside, will shadows emerge from these paintings and crush us like they did that paper crane?”
Their speculations weren’t without reason. Gu Jiu had once recounted that during her previous mission exploring the fifth floor, as she was about to leave, a shadow had suddenly emerged from a blank painting and nearly captured her.
This incident proved that even blank paintings weren’t safe. There were two possible explanations: either the figures within the paintings could hide, deceiving players’ eyes, or the spaces within the paintings were interconnected, allowing the figures to move freely and suddenly appear before players, catching them off guard.
Either way, neither scenario was favorable for the players.
Understanding the dangers, no one dared to rashly enter the hallway.
Just as they were deliberating on what to do, Gu Jiu spoke up, “Wan Xingzhou, bring out the oil and anything flammable.”
Wan Xingzhou exclaimed in surprise, pulling items from his inventory with curiosity. “Miss Gu, are you planning to set the fifth floor on fire? Will it work?”
The other players looked just as puzzled.
In this game world, normal logic didn’t always apply. Some things that should be easily flammable might turn out to be impossible to burn, which was frustrating for everyone involved.
“Let’s give it a try,” Gu Jiu replied, eyeing the silent corridor. “While exploring the fifth floor, I noticed some residual black ash in the hallway corners. That ash looked very much like what’s left after a fire.”
The group perked up instantly. “So, you think someone might have set fire here before?”
“It’s likely,” Gu Jiu said, leaning against the wall to recover from the fight’s exhaustion. “Even if they didn’t, it at least suggests that fire can burn here.”
Otherwise, why would there be residue left by flames?
This was a clear hint, a subtle way of telling the players that fire might be the key.
The game rarely gave useless information. After three D-level game worlds, Gu Jiu understood this well. The moment she spotted the black ash, she had pondered its significance. Now, realizing that their only way forward was through the fifth floor, she felt even more certain about her hypothesis.
After hearing her reasoning, the players nodded in agreement and immediately helped Wan Xingzhou douse the hallway with oil.
Wan Xingzhou had collected a substantial amount, nearly all the oil he could find in the castle.
Curious, someone asked, “Why did you gather so much oil?”
“Miss Gu asked me to collect it,” Wan Xingzhou replied proudly. “Since my inventory has enough space, I just grabbed all the oil in the castle.”
This straightforward response left everyone at a loss for words.
“Don’t you all think it’s odd for a place like this, in an abnormal world, to have so much oil stockpiled in the storeroom? Isn’t it clearly a message for us to use it?” Wan Xingzhou mused, growing more convinced by his own logic. “Don’t you think it’s the game’s way of giving us a hint?”
No one could argue with that.
Who could have guessed this was a hint?
After dousing the hallway with oil, the players ignited their makeshift torches and hurled them into the corridor.
The oil caught fire instantly, and flames roared down the corridor, spreading with ferocious speed. Within moments, the entire hallway was engulfed in a blazing inferno, flames licking up the walls and reaching the paintings.
As the paintings began to burn, the previously tranquil corridor burst into chaos.
One by one, dark figures emerged from the paintings, shrieking as the flames seared them, fleeing toward the far end of the hallway.
Soon, the corridor was filled with blackened figures, their panicked screams filling the air as they ran through the sea of fire. The players watched, breaths held in astonishment.
If they had ventured into the fifth-floor hallway without any precautions, they would certainly have been killed by these figures lurking in the paintings. They couldn’t help but feel relieved that they had chosen to collaborate with Gu Jiu.
After watching for a while, Ruan Yuan asked curiously, “Big Sister, what do you think these figures from the paintings are? Humans or ghosts?”
“They’re definitely not human,” Gu Jiu replied. “Maybe they’re spirits, or perhaps some other kind of entity. I’m not entirely sure.”
The other players nodded, agreeing that the figures from the paintings couldn’t possibly be normal humans. In this game world, any kind of existence was possible.
“They’re the audience watching these horror films?” Wan Xingzhou muttered to himself. “So, our role in these death films is to entertain these shadowy figures?”
“More or less.”
“…”
The players fell silent, contemplating this grim realization.
Each day’s so-called filming tasks were filled with death traps, designed to entertain certain entities in the game world at the cost of their own lives. This left them feeling manipulated and powerless, a sensation of being toyed with that brought no joy.
Gu Jiu’s voice broke through their thoughts. “The flames are almost out. Let’s pour more oil and keep burning.”
They glanced over and noticed that the section doused in oil had indeed almost finished burning. Since the castle corridor was incredibly long and they hadn’t dared to venture too far, they had only poured oil over the nearest portion.
Carrying their oil supplies, the players moved forward and continued pouring oil onto the unburned sections, quickly setting them alight.
Their speed was just fast enough to prevent the shadowy figures, hiding in paintings that hadn’t yet caught fire, from making a surprise attack.
The fire continued to spread down the corridor, and it took them the better part of the day to burn through the entire hallway.
By the time the fire had finally consumed the length of the corridor, the sky outside had darkened.
The hallway was now layered with a thick coat of black ash, remnants of the charred paintings. Gu Jiu walked through the ash, her shoes quickly becoming coated in a heavy layer of soot.
Without paying it any mind, she led the group toward the fifth-floor film screening room.
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