The little boy bouncing the ball mumbled outside for a while. Although he was a bit upset that his sister didn’t come out to play with him, he didn’t continue pounding on the door like that thing from before. He played with the ball for a while by himself, and surprisingly, the sound of the ball bouncing against the floor brought an unexpected sense of reassurance.
At least with the little boy outside, they didn’t have to worry about something else coming to knock on the door.
The footsteps pacing back and forth and the occasional knocking throughout the night were really noisy. When that panting monster finally appeared, it didn’t even seem as terrifying. Once the monster left the corridor, Li Zhi and Meng Yuhan were able to fall asleep at ease.
Early the next morning, Li Zhi woke up.
The first thing she did after getting out of bed was open the door. The lanterns in the corridor had already gone out, but from the chaotic footprints left in the flour, it was easy to imagine the wild party of ghosts that had taken place last night.
The flour on the floor was trampled into a mess, with some spots so worn down that the flour had disappeared. Li Zhi used the flashlight that always seemed to have power and carefully searched along the hallway, eventually finding a useful clue.
A bloody footprint.
It was a barefoot print, left without shoes. Judging by the size, it was at least a 43, clearly a man’s footprint. Li Zhi recalled the monster that Shen Zhijian encountered in the stairwell that night. He said he hadn’t seen anything clearly, only that the monster was covered in blood.
Meng Yuhan, rubbing her eyes, walked out of the room. “Sister Zhi Zhi, where are you going?”
The sun had already risen, so Li Zhi wasn’t too worried about her safety. “Go wash up first. I’m going upstairs to take a look.”
Meng Yuhan nodded in response.
Li Zhi continued upstairs with her flashlight. The stairs from the second to the third floor were full of footprints, most likely left by the ghosts knocking on doors last night, asking people to “play.” Among them was also the barefoot bloody print.
However, after reaching the third floor, she noticed there were no bloody footprints in the corridor. The ghosts’ footprints were concentrated mainly in front of Qiao Junyuan’s door on the third floor.
On the first night staying here, Li Feng mentioned that he didn’t hear the panting sound of the monster on the third floor. Back then, everyone guessed that there might be something on the third floor that either scared or attracted the monster. Now, the clean corridor on the third floor further confirmed this theory.
Li Zhi had inspected all six floors and found that only the corridors on the third and sixth floors were free of the bloody footprints.
Now, the sixth floor could be added to the list.
What secrets were hidden on the third and sixth floors? Was the blood-covered monster afraid of something, or was it protecting something?
By the time she returned to the second floor, Meng Yuhan had already finished washing up and was standing by the washbasin, waiting for her. She had even squeezed toothpaste onto her brush.
“We didn’t run into Sister Qiu Rong today,” Meng Yuhan said.
Indeed, Qiu Rong didn’t appear. But when the two of them went downstairs, they did encounter a middle-aged woman who looked unfamiliar. She was somewhat plump, with wrinkles around her eyes, but she didn’t seem worn down by life. In fact, she looked rather spirited.
The moment their eyes met, Li Zhi froze for a second.
She hadn’t seen this middle-aged woman in the past few days, but at the moment their eyes locked, she felt a strange sense of familiarity. The woman quickly averted her gaze, not greeting her.
Li Zhi watched her walk away, lost in thought.
When they reached the first floor, everyone else was already standing in the open space outside the apartment, and their expressions didn’t look good.
Searching for the bloody footprints had delayed them for a bit. Li Zhi quickened her pace, and from a distance, she could see Yuan Cheng’s face as white as a sheet, the terror in his eyes still not fading. The morning sunlight bathed his face, but it was completely drained of color.
“Xiao Peng is dead,” he said with a trembling voice. “Last night, we were all too tired and drifted off to sleep without realizing it. In my drowsiness, I heard someone knocking on the door. I hadn’t even reacted yet when Xiao Peng responded and asked who it was.”
At this point, his shoulders started to shake uncontrollably. “I wanted to stop him, but it was too late. After he responded, the knocking stopped. Then, he suddenly sat up in bed, started getting dressed, and opened the door to go outside. It seemed like something was waiting for him out there. I didn’t dare follow him. I only heard him laughing… laughing so happily…”
Everyone imagined the scene he described and immediately felt a chill run down their spines.
Yuan Cheng closed his eyes, feeling the warm sunlight on his body, finally sensing that he had truly survived. “I used a tool to close the door, and eventually, the laughter faded. It was like he was taken away.”
As for where he was taken…
Li Zhi glanced up at the second floor.
The rooms with red couplets and lanterns all had thick black curtains drawn tightly over the windows, blocking everything from view.
Fu Huan shivered. “We heard knocking too. I almost answered, but luckily Xiang Ling covered my mouth just in time.”
In that half-awake, half-asleep state, it was all too easy to answer without thinking.
“Why is someone knocking on the doors?” Shen Zhijian asked, on the verge of breaking down.
“Wasn’t the death condition that we had to knock on the doors ourselves?”
After Cao Xun died, Li Feng had moved in with Shen Zhijian. If it hadn’t been for Li Feng last night, he might have fallen into the same trap.
Li Zhi withdrew her gaze and spoke calmly. “This time, when we entered the game, the system didn’t give us a time limit.”
She explained, “It only asked us to uncover the truth. But if we can’t find it, we can’t stay in this instance forever—that would affect the show’s entertainment value, which goes against the premise of Horror Variety Show.”
Li Feng understood her point and added, “So the death conditions are evolving. At first, as long as we didn’t knock on the doors, we were safe. But now it’s changed—ghosts come knocking, and if we answer, we die. As it progresses, they might not even need to knock; they could just come in and kill us directly.”
Everyone’s faces went pale.
Yuan Cheng was close to breaking down as well. “I’m out of tools!”
The death conditions were becoming more and more stringent. It wasn’t just a matter of having tools—even players with them might not survive.
“What are those things?” someone muttered.
“Let’s eat first,” Li Zhi said soothingly. “I’m afraid if I explain now, you won’t even be able to finish your meal.”
Everyone: “…”
Fine, food first.
After breakfast, Li Zhi finally spoke. “The rooms are likely housing urns.”
Yuan Cheng, who had just swallowed some soy milk, felt like it might come back up.
“Do you all remember the first night we arrived, when I mentioned the haunted house, and the landlord’s reaction? She knew very well that her apartment had become unsellable after two people fell to their deaths, which is why she so easily agreed to switch our rooms.”
“The man in the floral shirt also said that after the South Street Apartments became known as a haunted house, many tenants moved out. The whole building was nearly emptied. The ones who stayed were those who had no choice or were struggling financially. The landlord reduced the rent for those who stayed, but no matter how cheap it was, she couldn’t attract new tenants.”
Fu Huan’s eyes widened. “So she rented or sold the rooms to the dead?”
Li Zhi nodded. “Floral Shirt said that the new tenants all moved in at night. Qiu Rong mentioned she never saw them during the day. The clearest evidence is the mourning couplets on the doors. Only homes for the dead would have such couplets on the door.”
Even the little boy playing with the ball was proof.
He said his parents had left him there and never came back. What kind of parents would leave such a young child alone in a room?
The truth was, his parents didn’t leave him—they left an urn.
Cremation buildings, where urns are stored, are not uncommon in the real world. Since cemetery plots are expensive, many people opt for cheaper apartments to store ashes. In some cases, an entire building is dedicated to urn storage, with all doors and windows sealed with cement, keeping it off-limits to the living.
However, in some cases, people resort to more unethical practices. They buy an apartment in a residential building and secretly store urns there, with the neighbors likely unaware of it. Laws don’t regulate this, and the only solution for affected tenants is to move out, chalking it up to bad luck.
South Street Apartment is probably one of those unethical cases. The greedy landlord, in pursuit of profit, resorted to making money from the dead.
In the real world, a building like that might just bring bad vibes. But in this instance, the urns became a death condition for the players.
Even though the sun was shining brightly, everyone still felt a chill as they looked up at the second-floor windows, each covered with thick, black curtains. The dead had merely knocked politely last night; what if they broke in tonight?
They needed to find the truth quickly and complete the task to leave this place.
“I have a guess.”
Li Zhi’s words lifted everyone’s spirits. Following her gaze, they saw Chu Guangyan walking over with a briefcase in hand, speaking politely to Grandma Qiu, who still had a stern expression.
“Grandma Qiu, could you please pack two buns and a bag of soy milk for me? I’m running late for work.”
Even though they disliked him, money still had to be earned.
Grandma Qiu begrudgingly packed his order, while Chu Guangyan remained unfazed by her attitude, thanking her warmly. “Thank you.”
He paid, turned to leave, but was bumped into by Li Zhi, who suddenly stood up.
“Oh no!” Li Zhi quickly steadied him, looking apologetic. “Mr. Chu, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”
Chu Guangyan immediately pulled away and stepped back. “I’m fine.” He glanced at Li Zhi with mild concern. “Are you okay? I think I might’ve stepped on you.”
Li Zhi smiled. “I’m fine, go ahead to work. Bye!”
Chu Guangyan smiled back and nodded. “Glad to hear it. Take care.”
He hurried away with his briefcase and breakfast. Watching his upright posture as he walked, Fu Huan couldn’t help but grit her teeth. “He’s so good at pretending! If we didn’t know the truth about him, who would ever guess?”
“Maybe he’s not pretending,” Li Zhi said meaningfully. “Perhaps he’s just a genuinely gentle and polite person.”
Fu Huan slammed the table. “No way!”
Li Zhi smiled and then shared what she had just observed. “I noticed a wound on his neck.”
Everyone was intrigued. “What kind of wound?”
“It looked like it was caused by something sharp. It had already scabbed over, and it was a small, round mark,” Li Zhi recalled, though Chu Guangyan had pulled away too quickly for her to get a proper look. “It was right near the carotid artery.”
Fu Huan gasped. “A wound that close to the artery and he’s still alive? What luck!”
Li Zhi beckoned the group to gather, and everyone except Qiao Junyuan came over. After she explained, their expressions were all a mix of astonishment and concern.
Fu Huan voiced her worries. “Are you really going in there? What if Chen Meiqian turns out to be some kind of monster? You’ll be walking right into her trap.”
Li Zhi replied calmly, “I don’t think Chen Meiqian is at home.”
Everyone was taken aback. “You mean…”
Li Zhi nodded. “We’ll know for sure by this evening.”
Li Feng frowned. “It’s too dangerous for you to go in alone. I’ll come with you.”
Li Zhi smiled at him. “With your size, I’m afraid Chen Meiqian’s wardrobe won’t fit you.”
“I’ll go with Li Zhi,” Xiang Ling said. “I’m smaller, plus I can pick locks.”
Li Zhi had originally planned to use her universal key, but since Xiang Ling could pick locks, it would save them a chance. She nodded in agreement. While everyone discussed the plan, Qiao Junyuan sat by himself, calmly sipping his soy milk, seemingly unbothered by being deliberately isolated.
Li Zhi took the opportunity to remind the others, “He hasn’t made any moves lately, so he might be planning something big. Based on past patterns, he’s most likely to act just before we clear the level. Stay alert.”
Fu Huan gritted her teeth. “I really hope we can get him eliminated this time! I don’t understand who’s voting for someone like him!”
Xiang Ling gave a knowing look. “Plenty of people are voting for him.”
Besides those who enjoy watching players betray each other, the cult members are also a force to reckon with. They likely have an internal voting system to ensure their members aren’t eliminated, which is why some of them act so brazenly in the game.
Eliminating Qiao Junyuan through the game might be difficult, but letting him leave unchallenged would surely create a future threat.
Li Zhi exchanged a glance with Li Feng, the siblings’ silent understanding needing no words to convey their thoughts.
Li Feng subtly nodded toward his sister.
In the afternoon, Fu Huan nonchalantly made her way to the sixth floor and started mocking to provoke the target. “Some people, living miserably themselves, can’t stand to see others doing well. Curling their hair thinking it makes them look great. Well, even with that curly hair, did you see Mr. Chu giving you a second glance?”
This remark was a direct hit to the curly-haired woman’s ego. Before Fu Huan could finish her lines, the woman rushed out, broom in hand, furious. “Who are you calling out, you little wretch?”
Fu Huan retorted, “Whoever responds, that’s who!”
She began backing away as she spoke, with the curly-haired woman storming forward in rage. “Don’t run! You little brat, today I’m going to tear that mouth of yours apart!”
With a scream, Fu Huan dashed downstairs, the woman hot on her heels, broom in hand. As their thundering footsteps faded away, Li Zhi and Xiang Ling, who had been hiding in the sixth-floor restroom, emerged.
They headed straight for Room 603. Xiang Ling pulled out the wire she’d found at the grocery store and knelt at the door to pick the lock.
But this time, it wasn’t as easy as when she had unlocked Room 105. After several attempts, she frowned and stood up. “This lock can’t be picked—it’s a specialized security lock.”
Li Zhi understood immediately. “They must’ve replaced it after the last burglary.”
In the end, she had to use her universal key after all.
With a soft click, the door opened, and a faint floral scent wafted toward them.
It was from the bouquet of lilies Chu Guangyan had bought a few days ago.
The two of them waited at the entrance for a moment, but there was no sound from inside. Just as Li Zhi had guessed, Chen Meiqian wasn’t home. They quietly stepped in and closed the door behind them, leaving the lights off.
The curtains were drawn, leaving the room pitch black. Li Zhi turned on her flashlight and swept it around the room. The top-floor apartments were larger than the ones below, and the residents had partitioned off a bathroom with wooden boards. The room was clean and tidy, and wherever the light touched, it exuded the warmth of a cozy home.
Directly opposite the bed was the wardrobe. Li Zhi walked over, opened it, and took a look. It held both men’s and women’s clothing. The two of them searched the room but found nothing strange.
It looked like nothing more than a cozy little love nest for a happy couple.
Xiang Ling stepped inside the wardrobe to test it out. “It’s a bit cramped.”
Li Zhi shone her flashlight on him. “Do you think Xiao Bo and Qiang Zi were hiding in here at the time?”
Xiang Ling: “…”
Li Zhi chuckled softly and walked over to turn off the flashlight.
The old wooden wardrobe had gaps along the edges of the doors. Though it was a bit cramped, neither of them was particularly large, so hiding inside wasn’t uncomfortable. Xiang Ling pulled out a mask. “This can conceal our breath, so no living being can detect us.”
Li Zhi was curious. “Where did you get that tool?”
Xiang Ling whispered, “Manyu gave it to me.”
In the previous instance, Tan Manyu and Li Zhi had been hunted by those bug creatures at the school. It was probably because of that ordeal that she got a tool capable of hiding her presence from detection.
However…
“How do two people use one mask?”
Without changing his expression, Xiang Ling leaned closer to her. She hooked one side of the mask on she ear and the other on Li Zhi’s, pulling both their faces together under the same mask.
The system likely hadn’t anticipated this creative use of the tool.
Li Zhi: “…It’s pretty stretchy.”
Xiang Ling: “You just have a small face.”
Li Zhi: “Thanks.”
As they bantered lightly, time passed quickly. When footsteps approached outside the door, the two in the wardrobe simultaneously held their breath.
The steady, unhurried footsteps stopped at the door. The sound of keys being retrieved followed, and then the door clicked open, letting a sliver of light filter through the gaps in the wardrobe.
The door locked behind the person, and someone flicked on the light.
Li Zhi squinted, peeking through the narrow slit in the wardrobe. She saw Chu Guangyan sit down at the table.
He tossed his briefcase onto the bed, poured himself a glass of water, and slowly drank it. After a brief rest, he stood up and began undressing.
First his suit jacket, then his shirt, and finally his pants. Since his back was to the wardrobe, all they could see was his bare back.
The audience watching through the live stream, who had been joking about seeing an unexpected R-rated scene in the game, suddenly fell silent when they saw what happened next.
Chu Guangyan’s undressing didn’t stop there.
He reached up to touch his neck, right where his carotid artery was, and then, as though finding a hidden pull tab, he tugged at the skin and peeled it downward.
He was taking off his human skin.
Like shedding a layer, he first pulled the skin from his face, then his neck. A pair of pale, delicate hands emerged from within, grasping the now-loose skin and continuing to pull downward.
The waist—
The hips—
The legs—
Finally, a pair of feet stepped out from the flayed skin. She walked to the side of the bed and took a robe hanging on the wall, draping it over her body.
Chu Guangyan’s discarded human skin lay crumpled on the floor like a deflated balloon.
The person who had put on the robe turned around, walked toward the discarded skin, picked it up, and patted it as though dusting it off. Then, folding it neatly, she tucked it away like a piece of clothing.
It was Chen Meiqian.
At that moment, both the audience and the two hiding in the wardrobe understood the true meaning of the system’s task.
Unveil the glamorous facade.
This time, the task was quite literally about that.
Li Zhi thought to herself that she probably knew what the creature wandering the hallway at night was.
It was Chu Guangyan after his skin had been peeled off.
—
Translator’s Note:
Damn that plot twist is good 💯
Btw, Housing urns is a real practice in some parts of the world. This often occurs in areas where burial land is scarce and expensive, particularly in dense urban areas. Housing urns in apartments or residential buildings is sometimes done due to the high cost of cemetery plots or columbarium niches (spaces for storing urns). One of the few common practices related to this:
- Columbaria: These are designated buildings or spaces specifically for storing urns, and they are common in some countries where land is limited, such as Hong Kong, Taiwan, and parts of China. Some columbaria are large and have rows of niches where urns are placed, often in a communal or religious setting.
- Apartment Urns: In some cases, people may rent or buy apartments solely to house the urns of deceased family members. This is more of an unofficial practice and can occur in regions where there are no laws or strict guidelines regulating the storage of cremated remains. This can lead to some situations where urns are stored in residential buildings, unbeknownst to the neighbors.