Gu Jiu took out the room card and swiped it to enter.
As the door opened, a soft beep sounded, and lights illuminated the once-dark room.
Gu Jiu walked in, noticing the curtains were tightly drawn. With the curtains shut, no light could seep in from outside. Even in broad daylight, the room was as dark as night, making her marvel at the curtains’ excellent blackout quality.
The hotel room wasn’t very large but had a 1.8-meter-wide bed and all the necessary amenities. Though not a high-end hotel, it wasn’t overly shabby either.
Gu Jiu felt reasonably satisfied; she couldn’t stand messy environments in the game world.
Although the bed was large, the room’s amenities were clearly prepared for a single occupant, indicating it was a single room.
After glancing around, Gu Jiu didn’t spot anything unusual. As the female service staff had mentioned, the hotel was newly built, with everything brand new, and a faint scent typical of a new place still lingered in the air, though it wasn’t particularly pleasant.
While she was examining the room, there was a knock at the door.
“Ah Jiu, it’s me.”
It was Lu Ji’s voice. Gu Jiu walked over and opened the door, seeing Lu Ji standing there. She smiled and asked, “What brings you here?”
Lu Ji entered, saying, “Just checking out the room—it’s not that interesting.”
In fact, after using his room card to glance casually inside, he had quickly come over. The true reason for his haste was, of course, to secure his sleeping arrangements for the night.
“Ah Jiu, I’ll stay with you tonight.”
He was actually somewhat nervous saying this, worried she might refuse. If she did, he’d have no real reason to insist on sharing her room.
Gu Jiu could easily sense his unease. “Are you afraid to stay alone?”
Other than fear, she couldn’t think of any other reason.
A seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl staying alone in a place like this would indeed feel afraid.
Lu Ji thought: That’s an excellent excuse!
So, with an air of confidence, he admitted it, saying he was indeed afraid and wanted to stay with her.
Gu Jiu had a soft spot for girls, especially pretty ones. Lu Ji’s appearance hit right at her aesthetic preference. Coupled with his always frail look, she couldn’t help but feel indulgent towards her, reluctant to disappoint her.
However, she didn’t immediately agree.
Why did the female service staff insist each player draw a separate room card? Yet, it seemed like players staying together wasn’t an issue, as if it didn’t really matter whether or not they stayed in their own assigned rooms.
Did it truly not matter?
“It’s fine. I can leave one of my paper dolls in my room in my place,” Lu Ji suggested, already having thought through a plan; otherwise, he wouldn’t have come over.
Gu Jiu paused, then said, “…That could work.”
Lu Ji’s paper dolls were reliable, and in a C-level game, the space for maneuvers against ghosts was still manageable.
Gu Jiu took out her dagger, preparing to open one of the boxes to check its contents when Wan Xingzhou interjected, “Let me do it. Leave things like this to us men.”
Naturally, a lady like her shouldn’t have to do this kind of work—that’s what minions are for.
With a smile, Gu Jiu stepped back, letting him take over.
Wan Xingzhou pulled out his red sword and used it to slice through the tape on the box. But as he opened it, he suddenly let out a startled sound.
“What’s wrong?”
Gu Jiu and Lu Ji stepped forward and looked into the box, only to see neatly folded bedsheets and duvet covers, still new and unopened.
Wan Xingzhou stared intensely at the box, blinking after a long pause. With a grim expression, he said, “When I first opened it, it was filled with blood-stained bedsheets and covers. The blood was so dark it was almost black. It scared the life out of me! This definitely wasn’t my imagination.”
Illusions rarely happen in game worlds, and if they do, they’re undoubtedly caused by supernatural forces—a clear warning for players.
Neither Gu Jiu nor Lu Ji doubted his words. They continued opening a few more boxes, but aside from Wan Xingzhou’s initial vision, everything else appeared normal.
The storage room contained numerous boxes, but they didn’t open every single one. Once they confirmed most of the boxes held typical hotel supplies, they left the room.
As they exited, they encountered other players who were also there to check out the storage room.
Gu Jiu offered them a slight nod, which they returned with smiles, a mutual gesture of goodwill. In game worlds, unless there were significant grudges or conflicts over life-and-death resources, players rarely antagonized each other, typically maintaining a courteous distance, cautious as strangers.
After leaving the storage room, Gu Jiu glanced at the sun outside, then shifted her steps toward the hotel entrance.
Pushing open the hotel’s front door, she walked down the steps and took a lap around the building’s exterior.
Wan Xingzhou muttered as he observed their surroundings, “The sun’s shining bright. From this angle, the hotel does look brand new… It’s just that the landscaping is poor; the ground is littered with rocks as if it’s been built on wasteland…”
Gu Jiu looked down at the ground. Sparse weeds struggled to grow amidst the stones scattered across the dry, unfertile soil. No wonder even the weeds were sparse.
Suddenly, her gaze focused on something. “Look—doesn’t that look like a bone?”
Lu Ji and Wan Xingzhou looked over and saw a small bone fragment partially buried in the dirt. It was slender, making it hard to tell exactly what it was.
Wan Xingzhou used his red sword to dig out the bone. Once fully unearthed, he examined it and said, “It’s a human finger bone.”
His quick identification came from extensive experience. Having spent over a year in game worlds, Wan Xingzhou had encountered countless dead bodies and skeletal remains, making him quite knowledgeable in this area.
He proceeded to sift through the surrounding soil with his red sword.
In no time, he unearthed several other bones, though most were small fragments.
“Could this hotel be built on a mass grave?” he speculated, then quickly corrected himself. “No, that can’t be right. These bones are human, lying right at the surface. Maybe they’re from people who died when the hotel was built?”
Wan Xingzhou pursed his lips, thinking that if no one had died, this place wouldn’t have turned into a game world for players to complete tasks.
Gu Jiu observed the scattered bones on the ground for a moment, then looked at the red sword in his hand.
It was clearly a powerful tool, yet he was using it to dig up bones. The sight seemed somewhat pitiful.
“You really use it like that?” Gu Jiu asked with a smile. “Don’t you have any other tools?”
Wan Xingzhou scratched his head, replying, “I’m used to it. I got this sword, the Demon-Slaying Sword, as soon as I reached the C-level field. Don’t be fooled by its bright red color—it might look old and fragile, but it’s actually very versatile. It’s great for slaying ghosts and perfect for digging into walls and ground…”
After circling the hotel’s exterior, they noticed the sun was slowly setting.
It was nearing dinnertime.
The three of them returned to the hotel and headed straight to the restaurant on the second floor.
The restaurant was already filled with players. Though they might not all trust the hotel’s food, it was still worth taking a look.
Most C-level players had extensive game experience; while some didn’t care about the food, many preferred to bring snacks or meals from the real world. Gu Jiu’s approach of packing directly from a five-star hotel was uncommon, but not unheard of.
At that moment, Zhan Shaohong pulled out an elaborate candlelit dinner from his inventory.
The sun hadn’t fully set, yet he had the curtains drawn to forcefully create a candlelit atmosphere. He had also changed into a tailored suit and was holding a bouquet of vibrant roses.
Everyone: “…” Did this young master forget this was a game world?
Even the six players accompanying Zhan Shaohong looked a bit awkward, forced to praise him for his taste and romantic flair.
Zhan Shaohong, clutching the roses, ignored the pointed looks from Chai Yingying and another delicate-looking female player. He craned his neck, scanning the room, and his eyes lit up when he saw Gu Jiu entering the restaurant.
He straightened his suit and tie, then walked toward Gu Jiu in what he must have thought was a dashing stride.
The players in the restaurant couldn’t help but look over.
Wan Xingzhou stared, stunned, as Zhan Shaohong approached with a bouquet. He glanced nervously at Gu Jiu, wondering if she’d shove Zhan Shaohong’s face into the roses.
Lu Ji, still oblivious, watched the “greasy young master” curiously, wondering what he was doing with the roses. When Zhan Shaohong finally reached Gu Jiu, he looked at her with heartfelt admiration and said, “Flowers for the beauty. Please don’t refuse, as you deserve the world’s most beautiful flowers.”
Lu Ji: “…”
Gu Jiu looked Zhan Shaohong up and down with a hint of a smirk.
As the eldest daughter of the Gu family, she’d seen every possible way of wooing, and her suitors came from all walks of life: campus princes, celebrities, rich heirs, young noblemen, and domineering CEOs… While Zhan Shaohong wasn’t the worst, he certainly wasn’t the best, barely scraping by with a passing grade.
With a polite smile, she replied, “Thank you for the flowers, but I’m not a fan of roses.”
Rejection from a beauty is always forgivable, so Zhan Shaohong wasn’t offended. Instead, he asked, “Then what kind of flowers do you like?”
“I like foxtail flowers,” Gu Jiu said with a bright smile.
Zhan Shaohong was left speechless. What woman likes foxtail flowers? What’s that supposed to mean?
He had roses, camellias, cosmos… but certainly no foxtail flowers in his inventory.