Lu Ji folded several small items out of plain paper.
A tiny frog, a paper airplane, a paper crane, and a little figure.
Gu Jiu, after drying her hair, sat on the edge of the bed, studying the little paper creations, and asked, “Ah Ji, what are these?”
She naturally didn’t think these paper creations were without purpose; in the game world, players rarely create anything useless.
Lu Ji didn’t offer much explanation and simply replied, “They’re for night watch.”
Gu Jiu looked at her, a pleased expression on her face, reaching out to stroke the girl’s pale face. She smiled and asked, “After we left the Cursed Village instance, did you go into another game instance?”
According to the Multiverse Game World, beginner players must enter the game every three days, with a three-day buffer as a cooldown period. However, if a player feels no need for a cooldown, they can opt to re-enter the game world without waiting for the full three days.
Apparently, Lu Ji had entered another game instance during those three days and awakened a talent skill.
Looking a bit uneasy, Lu Ji turned his face to the side, his ears tinged red, and quietly said, “This is a talent skill I awakened in the last game world—paper control.”
“Pretty impressive! Amazing!” Gu Jiu clapped her hands in admiration.
Lu Ji smiled shyly and placed the little frog and paper figure in hidden spots near the door and window. He then grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom.
When he came out of the shower, the two of them got into bed to sleep.
The game world didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. Even if one brought a phone, there would be no signal. The modern phenomenon of people never being without their phones didn’t exist here. Besides, the game’s life-threatening dangers loomed over the players like a sword hanging overhead; no one was reckless enough to scroll through their phones here. Better to grab some sleep and conserve energy.
Due to her poor eyesight, Gu Jiu had a habit of keeping the light on when she slept.
Out of consideration for Lu Ji, she left only a dim bedside lamp on, its soft light not glaring.
Gu Jiu soon fell asleep.
Her sleep quality had always been good; she didn’t suffer from insomnia just because she was in an unfamiliar environment—clearly not overly delicate.
Around midnight, a series of pattering footsteps woke her up.
Gu Jiu pulled the blanket over her head, determined to keep sleeping.
The footsteps stopped at their door, followed by a loud banging, as if someone was smashing the door with rocks, making it impossible to ignore.
Furiously, Gu Jiu threw off the blanket, grabbed a pole she had taken from the wardrobe, and prepared to confront the disturbance.
A hand quickly grabbed her. “Gu… Jiu, calm down. Don’t go over there.”
Gu Jiu turned to look at the girl holding her back and said, “I am very calm. I’m going to shred whatever’s disturbing our sleep.”
As she spoke, her nails grew longer, the soft pink turning blood-red, sharp and menacing.
If a night breeze blew through and lifted her hair, she would look like a vengeful ghost.
Lu Ji stared at her, thinking she wasn’t as calm as she claimed. After all, a pampered young lady usually waits for others to handle things for her. She only becomes proactive when she’s irritated and unwilling to tolerate the situation any longer.
For some reason, Lu Ji had no trouble predicting her temperament and behavior.
Just as Lu Ji was coaxing the agitated young lady in a soothing tone, a noise came from the window.
A strong, uncomfortable sense of being watched filled the room.
The two of them turned simultaneously towards the window. In the dim light of the room, they could make out a giant eye pressed against the glass.
The eye was enormous, its entire socket blocking the window, its unblinking pupil staring into the room, like a voyeur’s eye, filled with greed and a sinister desire.
Gu Jiu pulled Lu Ji’s hand away and strode quickly toward the window.
As she approached, excitement gleamed in the eye outside the glass, mixed with an alluring, magical glow that seemed to draw her in.
With a sharp swish, Gu Jiu flung the window open, and her blood-red, long nails jabbed straight toward the eye.
“Argh—!”
A scream, not quite human, pierced the night as the eye swiftly vanished.
With the disappearance of that peeping eye, the banging at the door also stopped abruptly. It was unclear if it had been frightened off by Gu Jiu’s ruthless eye-poking or for some other reason.
Gu Jiu closed the window, pulled the curtains, and gave a cold snort before striding to the door.
She opened it, only to find no one outside. The corridor was quiet, with only the dim glow of the hallway lights casting shadows that hinted at a twisted figure disappearing around the far end.
Lu Ji glanced at the little frog crouching near the doorway and whispered, “Sister Gu, there shouldn’t be any more disturbances. You can go back to sleep.”
Gu Jiu shut the door and huffed again. “No matter what it is, remember this: if you’re weak, it will be strong. If you let fear get the best of you, it’s a sign of weakness—and that’s just inviting yourself to be bullied to death. Got it?”
Faced with her piercing almond-shaped gaze, Lu Ji could only nod in agreement.
Satisfied, Gu Jiu settled back into bed and, within seconds, was sound asleep again.
Lying beside her, Lu Ji chuckled to himself, finding it amusing that he—a dignified entity—had just been lectured by a human.
The rest of the night was quiet, with no further disturbances, allowing both to sleep soundly until dawn.
Gu Jiu lazily got out of bed, and after breakfast, the two of them headed out together.
As they passed by two rooms near the stairway, the doors opened simultaneously, and out came Qi Yuheng, Ge Guang, and the twin sisters. They didn’t appear surprised to see Gu Jiu and Lu Ji.
Although some unsettling things had happened last night, vigilant players could avoid any real danger.
Gu Jiu gave them a slight nod and led Lu Ji down the stairs, her leisurely yet commanding stride giving the impression of a young lady flaunting her authority with a loyal follower.
“This girl really has presence,” Ge Guang murmured quietly.
The twin sisters also looked curiously at Gu Jiu’s retreating figure and then turned to Qi Yuheng. “Boss Qi, what did you encounter last night?”
“A filthy eye,” Qi Yuheng replied.
Ge Guang snorted, “Anything negative is ‘filthy’ in Boss Qi’s eyes, so naturally a voyeur’s eye counts as filthy.”
The twins rolled their eyes at him and said, “There was an eye staring in our window last night too.”
After sharing their experiences, they realized everyone had encountered something similar.
Perhaps since it was the first night in the game instance, there wasn’t any real threat; it was just that incessant knocking that lasted most of the night, disrupting everyone’s sleep.
Ge Guang chuckled, “It was definitely annoying. Boss Qi scared it off with his haunted chainsaw.”
In truth, Boss Qi had nearly stabbed that eye with his chainsaw in a violent frenzy.
The twins were momentarily speechless. Only someone with Qi Yuheng’s wealth could afford to buy up all the items in the game’s shop.
When Gu Jiu and the others reached the main hall on the first floor, they noticed several people were already there.
Aside from the regular players, there were only seven newcomers, one person missing.
Ge Guang turned to the newcomers and asked, “Did you all come to the hall first thing this morning? Nothing happened, right?”
The seven newcomers, faces full of fear and unease, didn’t respond initially. Finally, Ai Ruyi gathered her courage and said, “No! We didn’t sleep at all last night. We stayed here as soon as dawn broke.”
The disturbances last night had terrified them, especially the eye outside the window. Even with the curtains drawn, they couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. That intense sense of being peeped upon kept them from sleeping; they stayed awake until dawn before rushing here.
It seemed that only by sticking together could they feel a little safer.
There were nine newcomers in this instance of the game. Excluding the delinquent killed in the gray fog yesterday, there were eight left, but only seven were present here. It was evident that another newcomer had met an unfortunate fate.
The expressions of the players darkened.
The faster newcomers died, the more it indicated the hidden dangers in this game world. Being a “caged bird” wasn’t as simple as it seemed on the surface.
After discussing last night’s events, the players concluded that there wasn’t any real danger. The peering eye at the window and the persistent door knocking had merely served to disrupt their sleep. Ignoring them didn’t trigger a death mechanism.
Ge Guang asked, “Where was the missing newcomer staying?”
One of the newcomers replied shakily, “He was in the first room to the left of the staircase on the third floor.”
Having the room number, the players went directly to the third floor to investigate.
The door wasn’t locked; it was just ajar, and a gentle push opened it. The room was clean and tidy. Apart from the sheets left in disarray on the bed, suggesting someone had slept there, there were no other signs.
Suddenly, one of the players squatted down and used a finger to scrape between the tiles. “There’s a bit of blood here.”
The others crowded around, managing to make out faint traces of blood that hadn’t been fully cleaned up, understanding that the newcomer who had stayed here last night had likely met with disaster.
“Why didn’t he pair up with someone for the night?” Ge Guang wondered aloud. He had specifically advised the newcomers to share rooms if possible to look out for one another.
Ai Ruyi pursed her lips and replied, “That guy’s a heavy smoker. He reeks, and no one wanted to room with him.”
There was only one bed in each room, and who would want to share it with a stinky, smoke-smelling guy?
This explanation seemed reasonable, so Ge Guang dropped the subject.
Everyone returned to the first-floor hall, and the hungry ones couldn’t resist searching the kitchen and dining room. They found the kitchen empty as always, while the dining table was once again laid with trays of bird feed, which was almost enough to make them despair.
If it were only a few pieces of bird feed, it might not be so bad.
The problem was that the long table was large, and the sheer quantity of bird feed laid out in a delicate, Western-style arrangement made it uncomfortable. The overwhelming scent of feed was particularly strong, enough to make anyone with a sensitive nose feel nauseous.
Amidst the piles of bird feed, there was still a single plate of plain white rice.
With ten people lacking food, that one plate of rice could only satisfy three grown men, leaving the remaining seven to go hungry.
The three regular players without food were undaunted; they used points to trade with players who had purchased food from the game’s store.
The seven newcomers shared the plate of rice, which, though not enough to fill them up, kept them from feeling too starved.
After breakfast, the players continued searching the villa.
The mission was to survive for seven days, and there was no way the players would sit idle. They needed to familiarize themselves with the environment and uncover any hidden information in the villa that might help them avoid danger.
Of course, there were a few who chose to be idle.
As Ge Guang passed through the first-floor hall, he first glanced at Qi Yuheng, who was sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, then looked over at Gu Jiu lounging on the balcony in the sunlight with her “follower”—the sickly-looking girl beside her. Unable to resist, he scratched his head in mild frustration.
These three really know how to relax.
Could this be the calm composure of the pros?
An uneventful day passed, and soon it grew dark.
The players returned to their rooms to rest. Despite their lingering fear of the eye and knocking sounds from the previous night, the newcomers, seeing everyone leaving, didn’t dare stay in the hall alone and quickly followed upstairs.
—
Gu Jiu was in the shower when she caught the faint sound of something rustling, like a snake slithering through the grass, or perhaps someone dragging something across the floor.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she wiped the water from her face and reached for her glasses on the sink—only to find them gone.
Gu Jiu didn’t look the slightest bit flustered. Her dim, shadowed eyes scanned the bathroom before finally landing on the mirror.
In the reflection, she saw a blood-red ghostly figure. Calmly, she said, “Give me back my glasses.”
Without her glasses, she couldn’t see what the ghost in the mirror looked like, but from the twisted red shape, she could tell it was gleefully writhing, as if it was thoroughly enjoying playing with her.
Gu Jiu smiled—a gentle smile—but her next move was anything but gentle.
With a fierce grab, she reached out and clutched the ghostly figure by the head with her demon-like claws, forcibly dragging it out of the mirror.
“Ahhh—!”