Ghost Amusement Park [Infinite] 62

The class bell rang, and Li Zhi returned to her seat with heavy steps.

The real Wang Zhiyuan, who would be scared and anxious, had disappeared. The Wang Zhiyuan in front of her now was just a container. A container no different from Xu Jingsheng and Xie Cong.

Li Zhi slowly surveyed the classroom. Among these students who were engrossed in their studies, how many were containers like this?

After three sessions of evening self-study, the players were still far from completing the punishment task of copying out words. Not everyone had the courage, like Li Zhi, to disobey the teacher’s punishment rules. Most of them preferred not to stir up more trouble, fearing they might trigger some death condition. Of course, someone like Pink Hair, who had gotten every word wrong in the dictation, had no hope of learning even if he wanted to.

Most of the students had left the classroom, leaving behind only the players and four or five other students from Class 2-1 who were still furiously copying out words as punishment.

Tan Manyu asked Li Zhi, “Should we go back?”

Nighttime was the most dangerous in this instance, and now that it was already dark, staying here any longer could lead to who knows what.

Li Zhi whispered, “You go back first. I’ll wait a little longer.”

Tan Manyu was confused. “Wait for what?”

Li Zhi glanced at Xu Jingsheng, who was sitting by the wall. He was one of the students left behind to copy out words, but he didn’t seem anxious at all. He sat upright, pen in hand, copying the words at a leisurely pace.

Following Li Zhi’s gaze, Tan Manyu looked at him, thought for a moment, and sat back down. “I’ll stay with you. I need to keep an eye on Zhou Jianzhang and the others.”

The momentary disturbance when school let out soon faded away, and the entire teaching building returned to its eerie silence. No one in the classroom spoke. The only sound was the rapid scratching of pens against paper. As time ticked by, the players, who had been copying words in the same position for hours, felt as if their backs and hands were about to break.

This kind of punishment copying was really a test of one’s mentality. Several players were growing irritated, and Li Zhi could sense the rising tension spreading in the air. She glanced outside—the sky was completely dark, and even the dim streetlights seemed to be on the verge of being swallowed by the night.

Suddenly, a gentle voice broke the silence in the classroom. “How about we play a game?”

Everyone looked toward the speaker.

It was Xu Jingsheng.

He had a calm smile on his face, and under the fluorescent classroom lights, there was something oddly hypnotic about him.

“We’ve been copying for so long. Let’s play a game to relax. There’s no rush to finish right away.”

The players exchanged glances, and someone asked gruffly, “What kind of game?”

Xu Jingsheng replied, “If we’re in the classroom, we can play the Four Corners Game.”

Some had heard of the Four Corners Game, while others hadn’t. Xu Jingsheng kindly explained, “The typical Four Corners Game involves four people, but we can arrange more corners using the desks and chairs to form a polygon. Each person stands at a corner, with their back to the others. Once the lights are turned off, the person at Position 1 walks to Position 2 and taps them on the shoulder. Then, Position 2 walks to Position 3, and so on. If someone walks to an empty spot, they must cough before continuing to the next person.”

After he finished explaining, his eyes gleamed with excitement as he looked around the room. “What do you think? Sounds fun, right? Want to play?”

At night, in a classroom, playing the Four Corners Game—it didn’t sound fun; it sounded terrifying.

But an NPC suggesting they play this game at this time—could there be some special significance to it? Maybe it was related to their mission? The group hesitated, unsure whether to accept or decline.

“Sounds pretty boring.” Amid the silence, a voice laced with disdain broke the tension. “A bunch of people walking around? What’s the point?”

Li Zhi leaned back in her chair, lazily twirling a pen between her fingers. Meeting Xu Jingsheng’s displeased gaze, she smiled at him and said, “With that time, you might as well copy more words.”

Lian Qinglin and Pink Hair, as staunch supporters of Sister Zhi’s policies, immediately chimed in: “Exactly, why play games in the middle of the night? It’s better to finish copying and head back to sleep early!”

Xu Jingsheng frowned. “How do you know it’s boring if you’ve never played?”

Li Zhi shrugged. “It just sounds boring.” She thought for a moment. “How about another game? What else do you have?”

Xu Jingsheng stared at her for a while, a slow smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “There’s also ‘Summoning the Pen Spirit,’ ‘Summoning the Lamp Spirit,’ and the Dormitory Mirror Game. Want to try?”

Curious, Li Zhi asked, “What’s the Dormitory Mirror Game?”

In a low voice, Xu Jingsheng explained, “Every dormitory has a mirror on its balcony. At midnight, you light a candle in front of the mirror. One person needs to sit in front of the mirror, while the other seven people take turns standing behind that person to comb their hair. On the seventh stroke, you’ll see the image you desire in the mirror.”

Everyone imagined the scene he described and felt a chill run down their spines. The classroom’s temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

Xu Jingsheng chuckled darkly. “Why are you all so scared? Are you going to play or not?”

“Oh, it all sounds boring.” Li Zhi spoke in a dismissive tone, like she was dealing with a child. “Not playing. Go play by yourself.”

Xu Jingsheng: “…”

He stared coldly at Li Zhi, while she smiled back at him, unbothered by his gaze. After a moment, he let out a strange laugh, said nothing more, and turned back to his seat to continue copying the words.

Zhou Jianzhang, standing nearby, frowned in dissatisfaction. “You just chased him away like that. What if our mission is related to the games he mentioned?”

Li Zhi glanced at him. “If you want to play, you can go find him. I’m sure he’d be happy to have you.”

Bei Xuan, clearly annoyed, snapped, “Why are you talking like that? Just because you’re a big shot, you think you’re so impressive?”

Lian Qinglin laughed at this. “Yes, being a big shot is impressive. Is there a problem with that?”

Bei Xuan’s face turned red with anger. “You…!”

“We have items. Even if the game is dangerous, we should have some way to protect ourselves,” Zhou Jianzhang intervened, trying to calm things down with a broad-minded attitude. “I think we should try out the game he mentioned.”

Everyone exchanged glances, and a few players were persuaded. They stepped forward and said, “Yeah! We have items; let’s give it a try.”

Including Zhou Jianzhang and Bei Xuan, six players decided to join Xu Jingsheng in the game.

Li Zhi spoke softly, “You can play the game, but I suggest not playing with him. You already know the rules, so you can play on your own.”

Bei Xuan sneered, her tone sarcastic. “So that’s how the top-ranked players in the top 100 act, huh? I thought you’d be more impressive.”

Pink Hair waved her off like he was shooing a fly. “If you want to play, go play! Why all the fuss? Come back when you make it into the top 100.”

Glaring at Li Zhi’s group, Bei Xuan gritted her teeth and stomped off. The six players approached Xu Jingsheng, and after some conversation, Xu Jingsheng’s smile returned, and they began rearranging the desks and chairs in the classroom.

Li Zhi stood up and said to the remaining players, “Let’s go. Looks like they’re going to play the Four Corners Game. If you haven’t finished copying, take it back to the dorm to complete it.”

Pink Hair and the others, always following Li Zhi’s lead, quickly packed up to leave. The remaining four players hesitated, but in the end, decided to follow her advice.

The group left the classroom and exited the teaching building. As they descended the steps, Li Zhi glanced back. The entire building was dark, pitch black, except for the classroom of Class 2-1, which was still lit—the only source of light in the vast darkness.

Sometimes, light doesn’t mean safety. It just makes you a target.

Li Zhi whispered, “Our mission this time might really be related to these games, but for now, don’t participate. I have some theories I need to confirm.”

The fact that she said this meant she was already onto something. The others immediately felt hopeful about completing the mission and quickly replied, “We’ll follow your lead!”

As the group walked back to the dormitory, the tension in the air was palpable. Among them were Xu Yiran, the girl who had wanted to share a room with Li Zhi the night before, and her roommate, Peipei. Neither of them had joined the others in playing the Four Corners Game. Now, the four of them entered the girls’ dorm together. After reaching the second floor, Li Zhi stopped the two girls as they were about to enter their room.

“No matter what you hear tonight, don’t come out,” Li Zhi warned them, her tone serious.

“Even if it’s Bei Xuan and her group asking for help, don’t open the door. Just stay under the covers and sleep.”

Xu Yiran and Peipei nodded quickly, their faces pale as they absorbed her words.

Once inside their own dorm, Li Zhi closed the door and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. As she stepped onto the balcony to dry her hands, her eyes caught the reflection in the mirror. It was the same mirror Xu Jingsheng had mentioned earlier—the one used in the Dormitory Mirror Game. She stared at her reflection, distorted and dirty from the water stains that marred the surface.

Just then, Tan Manyu came over, her voice low with concern. “You told Xu Yiran and Peipei not to come out tonight. Are you worried that whoever comes back might not be Bei Xuan?”

Li Zhi nodded, turning on the faucet to wash her face. “If anything happens tonight, I’ll go out to check. But you should stay inside, no matter what.”

Tan Manyu frowned. “How can I let you do that alone?”

Li Zhi gave her a small smile. “Nothing may happen at all. But you don’t have any items for protection, so it’s best to play it safe.”

Tan Manyu was silent for a moment, then sighed, seemingly resigned, though her worry didn’t fade.

After washing up, the two of them turned off the lights and climbed into their beds. But despite the quiet and darkness, neither could fall asleep. Time passed slowly, and Tan Manyu was just about to drift off when she heard faint footsteps climbing the stairs.

Her breath caught, and she whispered, “Li Zhi?”

From the lower bunk, Li Zhi’s calm voice answered, “I hear it.”

The footsteps were soft, barely audible, but in the stillness of the night, they echoed eerily as they moved up the old staircase. The sound grew closer until it finally stopped right outside their door. Both girls held their breath, eyes sharp in the darkness, waiting.

But after a few tense moments, the footsteps moved on, past Xu Yiran and Peipei’s room, and down the hall. Eventually, they heard the creak of a door opening—Bei Xuan’s room.

Tan Manyu exhaled shakily, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead. She glanced over at Li Zhi, who simply said, “Get some sleep.”

That night passed without further incidents, and the sharp morning bell jolted them awake as usual. After a quick wash, they opened the door to the dorm and waited. When they heard the sound of a door opening down the hall, Li Zhi finally stepped out.

In the corridor, Bei Xuan and her two roommates were chatting and laughing as they made their way down the hall. When Bei Xuan saw Li Zhi, she huffed with an air of superiority, tossing her head as she walked past without so much as a glance in her direction.

Tan Manyu commented, “Seems like nothing happened.”

Li Zhi said nothing, just gave a brief nod. “Let’s head to the cafeteria for breakfast.”

In the cafeteria, the players gathered. It was now the second day, and all fifteen players were still alive. Even the six who had stayed in the classroom to play the Four Corners Game seemed unharmed. In fact, they looked oddly excited, as if the game had brought some thrill they hadn’t expected.