Madam Herlan’s collection room was on the fourth floor.
Although the fourth floor was where Madam Herlan resided, and not marked as a restricted area of the castle, the butler had mentioned that players should refrain from going up there unnecessarily and disturbing Madam Herlan’s rest.
Whether Madam Herlan actually existed in the castle was anyone’s guess; they’d been there two days without catching a glimpse of her, making it easy to suspect she was just a name, a title without a person behind it.
Of course, Madam Herlan’s appearance or lack thereof didn’t seem to affect the players’ tasks in any tangible way.
When Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi heard that the two were headed to the collection room on the fourth floor, they expressed some concern.
“One of the three main rules the butler gave us is to avoid damaging Madam Herlan’s treasured collection. You two, be careful.”
After cooperating the previous day and with Gu Jiu being forthcoming about the truth of the castle’s fifth floor, Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi felt that these two were the best players to partner with in this game, so naturally, they hoped Gu Jiu and her companion would make it through today’s filming tasks safely.
Returning the favor, Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi readily shared their filming tasks for the afternoon with Gu Jiu and her partner.
Ruan Yuan also revealed an insight they’d picked up. “It’s actually alright to discuss the filming tasks with other players as long as you don’t let them take your task slip. The slip is like the game’s identification for each player, and if a particular task is too risky, you can even exchange slips with others.”
“Exchange? You mean trading slips with each other?” Gu Jiu asked.
Ruan Yuan nodded and glanced at Lu Haidi, a spark of light in her eyes. “In fact, for yesterday’s task, I was the musician, while Brother Lu here was the gardener.”
This answer surprised Gu Jiu and Lu Ji. She looked at the couple and understood why they’d traded slips.
The gardener’s task was undoubtedly safer than the musician’s, which explained why they swapped roles.
For today’s afternoon tasks, Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi’s filming assignments were a bell ringer in the clock tower and the castle’s photographer.
Gu Jiu thought for a moment before speaking. “We’ll join you in the afternoon. I’d like to observe your filming process.”
“Sure,” Ruan Yuan agreed without hesitation.
In the game world, players didn’t have to be enemies as long as they weren’t assigned to opposing factions. They could even form alliances. However, the players’ deep-seated distrust often made cooperation difficult to achieve.
Gu Jiu felt that this couple seemed like good allies and decided to keep observing them.
As the time approached, Gu Jiu and Lu Ji headed toward the fourth floor of the castle.
On the way, Gu Jiu noticed Lu Ji was unusually quiet and asked, “Ah Ji, what’s on your mind?”
Lu Ji glanced at her quickly, then said softly, “Lu Haidi and Ruan Yuan seem to have a strong relationship. They trust each other deeply, and Lu Haidi is willing to take on the more dangerous tasks to protect Ruan Yuan.”
“They’re a couple, after all,” Gu Jiu replied, with some understanding. “I think that in the game world, couples usually end up one of two ways. Either they fall out, driven by various reasons, becoming estranged forever; or one is willing to sacrifice for the other, letting them live on. Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi must have known each other in the real world, and the fact they’re still together in this game proves they share a deep bond, willing to sacrifice for each other…”
“Is that so?”
“That’s right.”
Gu Jiu nodded confidently, recognizing that Lu Ji was still young. Feeling responsible to guide her along the right path, she decided to offer a bit of soul-soothing advice. “There are indeed many beautiful relationships in this world—family, friendship, and love. Sure, there can be betrayal, but there’s also care and sacrifice. Someday, Ah Ji, you’ll come to understand.”
It was essential that Lu Ji, as a young girl, grow up healthy and resilient without succumbing to the pressures of the game world.
Despite her unreliable father, Gu Jiu had lived a privileged life filled with love from her family and abundant wealth, making her the kind of white-collar beauty others envied. This background gave her hope that the world had a great deal of goodness to offer.
In this game, she’d encounter all sorts of players, and while she didn’t want to assume the worst of people, she was also careful not to trust strangers easily. She maintained a calm, rational approach to judging others to avoid dangerous consequences.
Gu Jiu had developed a keen eye for people, which served her well over the years. Being the Gu family’s eldest daughter made her a target for people seeking connections or even an easy ride to success; once, even an opportunist aiming to marry into the family tried to get close to her.
Lu Ji seemed lost in thought, her eyes staring straight ahead, mulling over something.
“Alright, don’t overthink it. Just focus on your upcoming filming task,” Gu Jiu said, pulling out her substitute card and handing it to her. “Take my substitute card. If it really gets dangerous, use it.”
Lu Ji’s substitute card had been used up in yesterday’s studio task, but Gu Jiu still had hers.
Seeing the substitute card in Gu Jiu’s hand, Lu Ji looked stunned. “This is your substitute card…”
Each player was only given one substitute card, and once used, it was gone.
“It’s fine. Just use it if you need it,” Gu Jiu replied casually. “I’ve already completed my filming task for today. Who knows what’s in store for tomorrow, but let’s not worry about it yet.”
She spoke with a casual confidence, believing she could manage her filming tasks even without the substitute card.
As Lu Ji held the card, he felt a warm, swelling sensation in his chest, as if his heart was soaking in warm water.
He couldn’t quite describe the feeling. Since his “existence” began, this was the first time he’d encountered someone like this.
Someone who wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t want to destroy or control him, and had no intention of monitoring him.
Gu Jiu was the first person willing to smile at him, trust him unreservedly, and even hand over a “lifeline” in this game.
For the players in this game, the substitute card was practically a second life. No one would hand it over so readily to someone else.
Without giving Lu Ji too much time to dwell on it, Gu Jiu took her by the hand and led her up to the fourth floor of the castle.
When they reached the collection room, they opened the door to find an expansive space filled with rare treasures, radiating opulence and splendor, a manifestation of immense wealth.
The aura of money was unmistakable.
To be safe, Lu Ji suggested that Gu Jiu stay outside. “Wait here.”
Gu Jiu nodded. “If it gets truly dangerous, make sure to use the substitute card. I’m not keen on changing partners just yet—I feel quite secure clearing this game with you.”
Though she said it in a teasing tone, it was genuinely how Gu Jiu felt.
Gu Jiu genuinely found Lu Ji to be quite endearing—quiet, obedient, and dependable, always ready to lend a hand when needed. Her reliability was a rare trait. They had faced three game challenges together, each strengthening the trust between them. Changing partners now would only make things harder; no one else could match Lu Ji’s worth.
Lu Ji gave her a shy smile, then turned and entered the collection room.
At exactly 10:00, the door to the collection room vanished.
Without glancing back, Lu Ji stepped further into the collection-filled space.
The room was brimming with rare and priceless treasures, rivaling the luxurious collection of the villa owner from the “Caged Bird” game. These artifacts spanned across time, each one worth a fortune outside.
His task slip instructed him to appraise Madam Herlan’s prized collection, but with so many items present, it gave no hint as to which one specifically.
Lu Ji’s gaze drifted over the various treasures until it landed on a gemstone-crafted eye resting on red velvet within an open box. He was about to reach for it when a sudden whoosh, brimming with killing intent, came toward the back of his head.
Without even glancing back, he reached out, catching the incoming weapon in his hand.
Turning around, he saw a silent suit of armor standing behind him, holding a golden spear aimed right at his back.
A look of disdain crossed Lu Ji’s face as he grasped the sharp tip of the spear. Initially, he planned to crush it, but he remembered something and decided otherwise, yanking the spear out of the armor’s grip and casually tossing it into his inventory bag.
Recalling how Gu Jiu had collected a dagger the previous day, he thought, Since it’s a free weapon, why not keep it?
This action seemed to enrage a presence in the room, as all the treasures started to tremble and then flew at him.
Lu Ji remained still, swiftly collecting the incoming items in his inventory bag. Those that didn’t fit, he simply crushed with his bare hands. His expression transformed from quiet detachment to a faint smirk, his dark eyes looking into the empty space as if locking eyes with something unseen.
At his gaze, the airborne treasures shuddered and fell to the ground.
Some of the more fragile items shattered on impact, the precious gemstones scattering in pieces. The vast collection room now resembled a war zone, as if a hurricane had swept through, leaving chaos in its wake.
Madam Herlan’s treasured collection lay in ruins.
This destruction finally seemed to provoke the wrath of some presence, unleashing a terrifying force intent on punishing the rule-breaker.
Lu Ji met the force head-on, catching it in his hand and, with a squeeze, shattered it.
In what felt like both an instant and an eternity, the energy dissipated into the air, the collection room returning to silence. The door, which had vanished, reappeared.
Gu Jiu’s head popped in, her almond eyes widening as she took in the mess.
“Ah Ji.”
Lu Ji turned to her, his dark smile and fierce gaze melting away, once again the quiet, obedient girl.
As he walked toward the door, Gu Jiu grabbed his arm. “Ah Ji, are you alright?”
Lu Ji shook his head, smiling softly. “I’m fine. I’m better than ever.”
Gu Jiu looked her over carefully, confirming that Lu Ji was indeed fine. Curious, she asked, “What happened just now? These collectibles… if Madam Herlan saw her collection room in this state, she’d probably be furious, right?”
“It wasn’t me; it was the little paper man who did it,” Lu Ji quickly shifted the blame onto the little paper man.
The little paper man peeked out from behind him, tilting its head to look up at Gu Jiu, rubbing its tiny hands in an innocent gesture.
With no mouth to defend itself, it had no choice but to take the blame.
Gu Jiu chuckled and pointed at the little paper man. “Oh, so you’re that destructive, huh?”
Obliging its master’s silent instruction, the little paper man hopped onto the floor, strutted back into the collection room, and caused another small wave of chaos among the wreckage, demonstrating its impressive destructive power.
Despite its size, it was quite the powerhouse, a true expert at tearing apart shadowy figures with its bare hands.
Gu Jiu praised the little paper man with a few kind words, unfazed by the ruined collection room, and led Lu Ji away.
Lu Ji handed the substitute card back to her. “Here, take your card back. I ended up using a substitute paper man I made myself.”
“You can make substitute paper men?” Gu Jiu looked at her in surprise.
Lu Ji nodded, a little bashfully. “Ever since I reached the C-level field, my paper manipulation skill has improved. I didn’t expect I’d be able to make a substitute paper man, though I can only make one per game round. I wasn’t entirely sure it would work, but it turns out it can replace the substitute card.”
“That’s really impressive!” Gu Jiu praised. “Since it’s a skill you developed yourself, you don’t have to spend points in the game store, and if you don’t need it, you could even sell it to other players.”
It was an excellent way to earn points, much better than players who had to work part-time gigs at the bar.
Lu Ji brightened up. “Then I’ll make substitute paper men to earn points! I’ll buy a house in Boundless City, and we can live there together.”
“Sounds perfect.” Gu Jiu smiled. “When I buy a place in Boundless City, I’ll save a room for you too. You can come stay whenever you like.”
Lu Ji’s face lit up, his mood lifted by their camaraderie. He didn’t fully understand the implications of Gu Jiu’s words; he only felt that their bond was deepening to the point of genuine friendship, which made him immensely happy.
The two made their way down from the castle’s fourth floor to the main hall on the first floor.
Ruan Yuan and Lu Haidi were waiting for them on the sofas in the hall. Seeing the two return safely, they were visibly relieved.
The joy they showed was sincere, and Gu Jiu and Lu Ji could feel it, further boosting their positive impression of the pair. Finding players in this game world who offered more kindness than malice was a stroke of luck.
“Sister, just now, we ran into two players heading to perform in the ballroom. Although they aren’t playing dancers or musicians, their roles are still related to the performance. It seems the castle sometimes gives out overlapping filming tasks to players.”
Gu Jiu nodded, noting that Lu Ji’s little paper man had returned from its post by the clock tower’s art studio, reporting that a player had indeed gone in there today but had safely come back out.
This confirmed Gu Jiu’s hypothesis.
The four players who died on the first day were, in a way, simply unlucky. Without a substitute card, they were taken out before they had a real chance.
This situation wasn’t surprising. After finishing a previous game, players often spend all their points on the best items they can afford, only to find themselves lacking enough points to purchase necessary items for the next game.
The four of them discussed the details of each player’s filming tasks for a while, and Gu Jiu gained quite a bit of information, leading her to some new theories about the “Death Film” game.