At dawn, Gu Jiu woke up, finally remembering what had happened last night.
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then turned to Lu Ji. “Ah Ji, how many players do you think fell for it last night?”
Lu Ji shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not familiar with them, and I don’t know how many fools there are.”
His words were sharp and direct. If any other players had overheard, they’d probably be furious, seeing their already thin bonds with him vanish completely. Lu Ji didn’t care, though; he wasn’t interested in making friends with humans.
Aside from the few game worlds he’d entered with Gu Jiu, Lu Ji had ventured into many game worlds alone. In these worlds, he was known as a lone wolf and an oddball, and whether or not he had friends was irrelevant. Not just anyone could be his friend; he didn’t need human friends who would hold him back.
After washing up, the two of them opened the door and stepped out.
On the sixth floor, three rooms were occupied by players. As Gu Jiu stepped out, she glanced casually at Room 610.
The door to Room 610 was shut. It was unclear whether Chai Yingying had stayed in her room to rest last night or if she had gone to Zhan Shaohong’s room.
The door to Room 601, occupied by another male player, was also closed.
The two of them took the elevator to the restaurant on the second floor.
There weren’t many players in the restaurant—only five. They looked exhausted, and when they saw the radiant, well-rested Gu Jiu, they couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.
In such a tense environment, anyone who could still sleep soundly was either foolishly bold or equipped with powerful items.
Of course, few people in a game world would believe in mere boldness. Most players preferred to think Gu Jiu possessed formidable tools that kept her unafraid of the nighttime hauntings, allowing her to sleep peacefully.
Gu Jiu looked around but didn’t see Wan Xingzhou. She chose a seat by the window with Lu Ji and pulled out breakfast from her personal pack.
The breakfast consisted mainly of Chinese-style pastries and congee, filling up the table.
“The crab roe buns are quite good. Ah Ji, try them,” Gu Jiu recommended, sharing her home world’s cuisine with her companion. When it came to food, drink, and enjoyment, she never skimped on herself.
Lu Ji smiled slightly, feeling happy, and found the crab roe buns absolutely delicious.
As time went on, more and more people entered the restaurant.
It was breakfast time, and while players didn’t necessarily eat the hotel-provided food, most came to the restaurant anyway—partly to check on other players and partly to find familiar faces and discuss the events of the previous night.
Zhan Shaohong entered the restaurant, surrounded by a group of players.
Upon seeing Gu Jiu sitting in the bright morning sunlight, his eyes lit up, and he immediately brushed off Chai Yingying, who was holding onto his arm.
The other players cast sympathetic glances at Chai Yingying.
A female player acquainted with Chai Yingying couldn’t hide her schadenfreude, yet she pretended to console her. “Sister Chai, Young Master Hong has always been like this; we have to get used to it, don’t you think?”
Chai Yingying gave a seductive smile. “Yes! Young Master Hong has always been like this. If you’re not a beauty, don’t get too close, or you’ll just embarrass yourself. Isn’t that right, Sister Lili?”
The female player, Liang Lifei: “….” She felt slightly called out.
With an S-rank older brother backing him, someone like Zhan Shaohong, even without much personal merit, could still attract plenty of women with ulterior motives. Surrounded by admirers, Zhan Shaohong had grown picky, showing no interest in anyone who wasn’t beautiful. If a woman didn’t meet his standards but still tried to cozy up to him, he would unhesitatingly lash out without a hint of politeness.
He certainly had the confidence to be impolite—after all, with an S-rank big brother, who could challenge him?
After snapping back at the scheming “green tea bitch,” Chai Yingying brushed her hair back, exuding charm as she sauntered toward Gu Jiu and her group.
The moment Zhan Shaohong saw Gu Jiu, he blurted out, “Last night was really dangerous; Gu Jiu, are you alright?”
His eyes were practically glued to Gu Jiu’s face, and he couldn’t help but notice her well-rested, radiant look, making her seem even more beautiful than yesterday.
It was clear she’d had a good night’s sleep.
Zhan Shaohong felt a pang of disappointment; he’d been hoping that if Gu Jiu were frightened, he could step in, showcase the power of his items, and naturally find an excuse to share a room with her. Then, perhaps…
Lu Ji clenched his chopsticks, suddenly finding the food less appetizing.
Fortunately for Lu Ji, Zhan Shaohong didn’t get much time to act, as Wan Xingzhou had arrived.
Wan Xingzhou, with blood still smeared across his head, slumped down beside Gu Jiu, shoving Zhan Shaohong aside. Clinging to her hand, he started wailing dramatically.
Zhan Shaohong: “….” This wild man dared to edge him out?!
“Miss, I got tricked! Last night, I heard your voice outside my door, and I thought it was you. I almost opened the door, but thankfully I realized just in time that you wouldn’t be knocking at my door in the dead of night. But then, as soon as I ignored it, the voice outside changed to Sister Lu’s, calling me to open the door in such an angry and violent tone, as if wanting to kill me…”
Gu Jiu chuckled, “Ah Ji is the gentlest and most thoughtful; how could she sound so fierce? No wonder you didn’t fall for it.”
Wan Xingzhou: “….” Miss, are you blindfolded by Lu Ji?
Lu Ji, silently eating his meat bun, thought to himself that the hotel’s ghosts had a rather insightful ability to grasp the essence of things.
Wan Xingzhou rambled on and on, still failing to get to the main point.
“Focus!” Gu Jiu gave him a light tap on the forehead, a practiced motion.
The pet owners present felt like they were watching her pat her own pet.
Wan Xingzhou raised his blood-streaked face and said pitifully, “I barely made it till dawn, thinking the worst was over. But when I opened the door, I got trapped in an endless hallway. The rooms on both sides vanished, and I wandered through that endless corridor for ages, unable to find an exit or the elevator. Eventually, something behind me shoved me; if I hadn’t been quick, I would’ve fallen into the elevator shaft…”
At the time, the elevator doors had been open, but there was no elevator car—just an empty shaft, so deep he couldn’t see the bottom. If he’d fallen, he would’ve died for sure.
Gu Jiu pointed at the blood on his forehead, “And this blood, where did it come from?”
“I hit a wall. I was so dizzy I finally escaped the trap.” He pouted, feeling wronged. “Of all the players on my floor, it just had to be me. Why am I so unlucky?”
The players around him, hearing his sob story, couldn’t help but think he really did have terrible luck.
Gu Jiu pushed a plate of custard buns toward him. “You’ve had a hard time. Eat more. And wipe the blood off your forehead first—it smells too strong, it’s ruining my appetite.”
Wan Xingzhou gave a soft “oh,” obediently taking out a tissue to clean the blood from his head before diving into the custard buns.
Seeing Gu Jiu paying attention to this unlucky guy, Zhan Shaohong wondered if he might also get some sympathy. Maybe Gu Jiu was different from other women and preferred soft-hearted “little puppies” over his own tough, manly style?
With that thought, Zhan Shaohong decided to try his luck with a sad story too.
“Gu Jiu, I also had a terrifying experience last night…”
The players who had come with Zhan Shaohong looked at him with expressions that defied description.
“Terrifying”? Really? Don’t you know yourself better than that?
Gu Jiu didn’t seem like one of those dumb female players who would put up with him just because of his status; she clearly wouldn’t fall for his act.
Just as Zhan Shaohong was in the middle of his sympathy act, he suddenly tumbled down with his chair, landing squarely on the floor, looking dazed and bewildered.
“Young Master Hong!” Liang Lifei cried out in shock, rushing over to help him up.
The other players in the restaurant glanced at the fallen chair but couldn’t see anything obviously wrong with it. They started wondering if, in broad daylight, the hotel’s ghosts were now audacious enough to target players outright.
Zhan Shaohong himself suspected a ghostly hand in his fall. Feeling a bit spooked, he instinctively touched the protective charm hanging around his neck. Finding it intact, he felt slightly reassured, though the incident killed any inclination he had to keep up the pitiful act in front of Gu Jiu.
He still had some pride, after all; being tripped by a ghost and ending up flat on the ground in front of a beautiful woman was just humiliating.
By the time breakfast ended, only nineteen players had shown up in the dining room; four were still unaccounted for.
No one knew if those four had run into trouble last night or simply chose to skip breakfast.
Most players leaned towards the former.
Thinking of the strange voices they’d heard outside their doors last night, a somber mood settled over the room. If it weren’t for the constant reminder that they were in a game world, telling themselves to stay vigilant even in their sleep, many of them might have let their guard down in that drowsy, vulnerable state. Hearing a familiar voice at the door would have likely led them to open it, and who knew what might have happened next.
They hadn’t been in the hotel long, but though the ghosts hadn’t shown themselves, their methods were starting to emerge.
Ignoring Zhan Shaohong’s eager invitation to linger, Gu Jiu left the dining room with Lu Ji and Wan Xingzhou.
“Miss, where are we going?” Wan Xingzhou asked.
“To the lobby on the first floor.”
“What for?” He looked completely puzzled.
Gu Jiu pressed the elevator button and replied, “To take a look at the registration book by the counter.”
With this, Wan Xingzhou and Lu Ji immediately understood her intent.
Yesterday, when they checked into the hotel, the female receptionist had them register in the book. They hadn’t thought much of it then, but after last night’s events, the reason became clear.
Once on the first floor, they headed straight to the reception counter.
The registration book was kept in a drawer under the counter, and they only had to pull it open to see it.
Wan Xingzhou took out the book and flipped to the page where they’d registered yesterday, quickly scanning it. Suddenly, he froze.
After looking it over themselves, Gu Jiu and Lu Ji understood.
“Yesterday, there were 23 players registered; now there are only nineteen left. It seems those four must have run into trouble,” Gu Jiu murmured.
Why had the female receptionist insisted they draw room keys and then sign the register?
Drawing a key was the hotel’s way of letting players select their rooms. What would happen if a player chose not to stay in their assigned room was still unclear. After all, both Lu Ji and Chai Yingying likely used substitute items for protection.
The registration book, on the other hand, documented the players’ existence.
When a player dies, their assigned room number vanishes from the book, leaving no trace whatsoever.
As the three of them examined the book, the elevator opened, and Chai Yingying emerged with two male players, walking toward the counter.
Seeing them, Chai Yingying looked surprised. “You’re here to check the registration book too?”
Hearing this, Wan Xingzhou realized that Chai Yingying and her companions must have also figured out the significance of the registration book, which was why they had come down to check it. However, their reaction was still not as swift as Gu Jiu’s—she had sensed the book’s importance even before the quest NPCs did.
Thinking this, Wan Xingzhou felt a little proud; the lady was indeed reliable.
Gu Jiu handed the book over to Chai Yingying, letting them look freely.
Chai Yingying thanked her and, along with the two male players, began examining the book. When they noticed the changes in it, their expressions darkened slightly.
“So that’s it,” Chai Yingying sighed. “It seems the game wouldn’t make players register for no reason.”
As she reflected on this, she saw Gu Jiu wave and leave with her two companions.
Chai Yingying watched their backs as they ascended the stairs, tracking them as they stopped on the seventh floor.
“What are you looking at, Sister Chai?” one of the male players teased. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her beauty, just like Young Master Hong?”
Although they’d discovered that four players had died the previous night, it didn’t seem to affect their mood. In the game world, player deaths were commonplace. If they let it get to them each time, they would have gone mad long ago.
They were used to maintaining a calm, detached perspective.
Chai Yingying rolled her eyes at them. “I’m admiring a real beauty! A powerful and stunning one at that. If Young Master Hong thinks he can court her, he’s in for a rude awakening.”
Her words had a hint of double meaning. One of the male players was taken aback. “So, are you saying that Young Master Hong’s fall earlier wasn’t the work of a ghost, but… human intervention?”
Chai Yingying returned the book to the drawer. “Why would a ghost care about whether Young Master Hong is flirting? But a person might.”