Gu Jiu and her companions rested for a while before it was time for Madam Herlan’s dinner again.
The players gathered in the dining hall.
Once again, only the castle’s butler appeared. He glanced at the players who had arrived, ignoring the bloodstains and disheveled appearances, and said, “Please, take your seats.”
After a treacherous day, none of the players felt like talking, silently taking their seats.
Once they were seated, they noticed that the table, which could seat twenty people yesterday, now only had sixteen places.
Since attending Madam Herlan’s dinner was a mandatory rule, no player would be absent without cause. There was only one possibility for the missing four—they had died during today’s filming task.
Four people on the first day alone; it had to be said, the death rate was alarmingly high.
The players’ faces grew grim as they finally realized the peril of this game world. It was more dangerous than any C-level game scenario they’d entered before.
“No wonder there are twenty players this time,” Ruan Yuan whispered. “I heard the higher the number of players in a game, the more dangerous it is.”
It sounded like she was talking to herself, but also as if she was informing those around her.
Having worked together during the stage performance earlier, the six of them were seated together now and could hear Ruan Yuan’s words. The two male players who had portrayed the singer and clown earlier looked increasingly uneasy, their gazes toward the covered dishes in front of them as wary as if facing venomous beasts.
The reactions of the other players were similar. Knowing it was a death trap, who would willingly take a closer look?
Gu Jiu lifted the lid on her dish and picked up the slip of paper inside.
[You are an adventurer. You are intensely curious about the restricted fifth floor of Herlan Castle. At 5:00 AM, you will embark on a great death adventure.]
Gu Jiu: “….” So they won’t stop until they kill me, huh?
Without changing her expression, Gu Jiu tucked away the slip and observed the faces of the other players around the table. Their expressions were grim, with some even showing hints of fear and despair.
It seemed the roles they were assigned for tomorrow were equally dreadful.
Taking a deep breath, Gu Jiu had no appetite for the delicious food on the table. She turned to Lu Ji and said, “Ah Ji, I’m exhausted. Let’s go back and rest.”
Lu Ji agreed, and the two of them left their seats together.
The other players were still puzzling over their task slips. Seeing them leave, they followed suit.
Back in their room, Gu Jiu and Lu Ji exchanged slips.
Lu Ji’s slip read: [You are an appraiser, tasked with appraising Madam Herlan’s beloved collection. Tomorrow at 10:00 AM, please proceed to Madam Herlan’s collection room.]
After reading each other’s slips, they could both sense the ominous intentions within.
Their assigned roles coincidentally aligned with two of the three rules the castle’s butler had mentioned.
Rule one: do not enter the fifth floor of the castle outside of filming hours; Rule three: do not damage Madam Herlan’s beloved collection.
Although Gu Jiu was scheduled to enter the fifth floor during filming hours, thus not violating the rules, the mere mention of “at 5:00 AM, you will embark on a great death adventure” indicated yet another deadly trap awaited inside.
As for Lu Ji’s role as the appraiser, it seemed even more direct—how exactly was she supposed to conduct the appraisal? If any external force were to damage Madam Herlan’s cherished collection, it would surely trigger a death mechanism.
Gu Jiu set down the slip and mused, “I wonder what roles those four who died today were assigned? Ah Ji, do you think players might have overlapping roles? Like, maybe someone already played the adventurer role I’m assigned for tomorrow?”
She knew that C-level games couldn’t be treated with the same strategies used in D-level games. After all, players who made it to C-level scenarios had certain abilities and individual methods to clear levels; they wouldn’t be inclined to follow the directions of a random person without good reason.
Therefore, she didn’t plan on actively exchanging information with other players, though she wouldn’t refuse if they approached her.
Lu Ji replied, “Tomorrow, I’ll have the paper doll observe. If anyone enters the art studio or the ballroom, it would prove that players’ roles are indeed repetitive and cyclical.”
Gu Jiu smiled at him. “Thanks for handling that, Ah Ji.”
With that said, Gu Jiu took out a dagger.
This dagger was the one that had almost impaled her head when she was forced to dance on stage. After she’d used it to destroy the deadly music, she’d tucked it away in her personal inventory.
Being able to put it into her inventory meant it was a permissible item to take.
“This must be some kind of tool,” Gu Jiu remarked, examining the dagger.
It felt cold to the touch. She placed a few strands of hair near it, and they snapped the moment they came close. Clearly, it was incredibly sharp.
“I never expected to find usable tools within a game world.”
It was essentially a free tool the game world had handed her. Though it wasn’t highly specialized, its lethality was impressive.
Gu Jiu was quite pleased with it. She’d had no weapon up until now, nor any points to purchase one. Since this one came free, she couldn’t be happier.
Hmm, maybe her harrowing experience on stage hadn’t been so bad after all.
Lu Ji asked, “How did you break free of the control on stage?”
Gu Jiu used the dagger to chip a corner off the sturdy wooden table without any effort.
After tossing the dagger back into her inventory, she replied with a bright smile, “Ah Ji, you must have noticed that the audience members weren’t normal humans.”
Lu Ji nodded. Although there had been no lights on in the audience, those figures appeared dark and indistinct, making it easy to guess they weren’t human.
“They emitted a kind of dark red supernatural glow.”
Gu Jiu’s eyes were clairvoyant; she could not only see ghosts but also distinguish their identities.
In D-level settings, ghosts would have little effect on her, whether visible or not, as they all emitted a supernatural red glow, making them easy to spot.
“D-level ghosts radiate a red supernatural glow. The glow from these audience members was a dark red, though I haven’t figured out the difference yet. But one thing is certain—they aren’t normal humans. They can even control the performers on stage.”
“Control?”
“Yes, control.” Gu Jiu smiled, continuing, “When I pretended my foot was injured and sat down to observe the audience, I noticed they grew angry because I wasn’t performing. Then they took control of my body, forcing me to dance with movements fitting an injured dancer’s character.”
“When my body was being controlled to dance, I observed for a long time and finally identified the source of that controlling force. It was like an invisible string glowing with a red light, stretching from the audience and manipulating the performers on stage like puppets. I had one red string attached to me, and Lu Haidi and the others had them too.”
Seizing moments during each spin, she secretly used the Banshee’s Armor to cut that invisible red string, freeing her body from control. When the dagger fell from above, she grabbed it and used it to slice through the strings controlling Lu Haidi and the others.
So, she didn’t actually rely on any special tool—it was her unique ability that allowed her to break free. Not revealing this to Lu Haidi and the others was simply a matter of caution; after all, they were strangers, and everyone has their guard up.
Lu Ji said, “Ah Jiu, you’re amazing; I knew you could do it.”
He had faith in this young lady from the start, feeling that the stage’s controlling forces would be no match for her. With calm reasoning, she would surely figure out a way to escape.
Among the four on stage, Gu Jiu was the only one who remained calm. The other three players had already been overwhelmed by the invisible force and failed to think clearly.
Gu Jiu, with a bright smile, playfully patted Lu Ji’s face, amused by the shy expression that spread across the girl’s features. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“So, are you really going up to the fifth floor at 5 a.m.?”
“Of course.” Gu Jiu replied without hesitation. “The opportunity’s been handed to me; why waste it?”
The fifth floor of the castle was off-limits, only accessible during designated filming times. Such restricted areas often held hidden secrets, possibly even tied to the true nature of the castle.
“I have another question,” Gu Jiu added.
“What question?” Lu Ji responded, willing to help.
“It’s about the filming.” Gu Jiu propped her chin on her hand, gazing out the window thoughtfully.
“Why is this game scenario called ‘Death Movie’? Our task is to successfully play a part in a ‘death movie.’ Madam Herlan loves watching movies, and she wants us to produce a film that she’ll appreciate. But what would that even look like? If you think about it, have any of these tasks we’ve been given actually involved filming a movie?”
Lu Ji nodded, “It doesn’t feel like we’re making a movie at all; it’s more like we’re in some sort of role-playing game.”
There’s no director, no equipment, no crew—just a group of actors. How is this supposed to be filming a movie?
Gu Jiu summed it up, “So, I suspect the game is using another misleading title to throw players off, letting us search for the truth on our own, just like in the ‘Seven Sheep’ scenario.”
In that scenario, if players didn’t realize that the “seven sheep” were actually the ghosts of seven people who had been devoured by an ogre, they’d be completely unprepared for the final night when the ogre burst through the door—death would be inevitable.
Lu Ji looked at her with a slightly confused expression, “You really think so?”
Even Lu Ji himself, once immersed in the game world, had all his senses dulled by the Eye of Rules. Even he didn’t know the true nature of these game worlds and could only search for clues or resort to brute force. But if he chose the latter, it would destroy the game world, making it impossible to reclaim the contaminated rule fragments—something he’d rather avoid.
This was one reason he chose to follow other players into these game worlds.
“It’s just a guess; I’m not sure if I’m right either.” Gu Jiu waved her hand and smiled at Lu Ji.
“Just take it as a thought. If I’m wrong, you can correct me.”
Lu Ji was unwavering in her faith. “I trust you; you’re not wrong.”
Gu Jiu: “….”
Even as confident as Gu Jiu was, she couldn’t help but be amused—and delighted—by Lu Ji’s unfaltering belief.
Wrapping her arms around the girl, she ruffled her hair.
“Ah Ji, how can you be so adorable? I really do love you!”
Lu Ji’s face flushed red, and he suddenly felt as if something inside him was shifting.
This person’s influence over him was truly immense…
—
At 4:00 a.m., Gu Jiu awoke to her phone alarm.
Having never gotten up at such an hour, she was so sleepy her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She stumbled out of bed and nearly tripped on her slippers by the bedside.
Lu Ji reached out to steady her and guided her to the bathroom to freshen up, his face warming as he listened to the sound of running water inside.
Something inside him felt increasingly… off.
Once she’d finished, Gu Jiu was finally alert and turned to Lu Ji.
“Ah Ji, let’s go.”
Lu Ji nodded, releasing a paper crane into the hallway.
“The paper crane will guide us. If there’s any danger, it’ll warn us.”
Gu Jiu beamed. “Ah Ji, you’re an absolute treasure for journeys like this—you’re amazing!”
Showering Lu Ji with praise, the young lady set off happily toward the castle’s fifth floor.
The castle was eerily quiet at night. Dim lamps cast faint light on the floor, and along the way, they passed several half-height portraits hanging on the walls.
Gu Jiu’s gaze was drawn once more to the portraits. As they moved along, she found herself making eye contact with each figure in the paintings.
So focused on the portraits, she almost stumbled, but Lu Ji quickly steadied her with a gentle hand.
“Be careful,” Lu Ji cautioned, then, with a sigh, took her hand to lead her more securely.
Gu Jiu gave a casual response, “With you here, Ah Ji, I don’t have to be so careful.”
“….”
Lu Ji felt his heart melt as if it were soaking in syrup, a pleasant warmth filling him.
This was… very unusual.
“She” hadn’t forgotten her current female identity. Could it be that this young lady… had feelings for girls?
TL: Updated 13 chapters!
When will the next chapter be released?