As soon as she finished speaking, Ji Heng turned to Su Er. “So did you skin it off, or were you selling the flesh by weight?”
Zhang Yi’s eyes widened in surprise that he’d actually picked up on the hidden subtext. As expected of a big shot.
Faced with the question, Su Er avoided eye contact by looking at the sky or the ground—anywhere but Ji Heng—before finally muttering, “The former.”
Ji Heng didn’t press further, but once the little girl vanished into thin air and stopped following them like a tail, he said, “It’s fine to be ruthless in the game, but still, try to be more cautious.”
Seeing Su Er lost in thought, he added, “It’s often easy to tell whether a host is clever or not, but they’re also unpredictable in their moods.”
If you try to analyze their behavior with human reasoning, you’ll end up paying the price sooner or later.
Looking back, Su Er realized he had been a bit too aggressive and nodded in acknowledgment.
Just as the two of them stepped into the dormitory, Zhang Yi squeezed in behind them and even shut the door himself, looking like he wanted to join the discussion.
Seeing this, Su Er suddenly felt that having thick skin in a game instance wasn’t a bad thing. Someone like Zhang Yi, who had interacted with them and hadn’t crossed any lines, wasn’t someone easy to shoo away.
Trying to divert the weird looks he was getting, Zhang Yi took the initiative and said, “We’ve got plenty of time. Why not go over the info we got from the factory?”
Su Er withdrew his gaze, his expression turning serious. “The factory director’s kid was unfortunately killed by a student who had just gotten out of the Reform Camp. That couple is probably looking to vent their rage through revenge.”
“The targets weren’t random,” Ji Heng added. “Two of the three dead students had received A-grade evaluations.”
Zhang Yi turned his head in surprise. “How come I didn’t know that?”
Ji Heng didn’t answer.
After racking his brain, Zhang Yi suddenly remembered that Ji Heng had left twice while operating the machine—to bring water to some girls on the other side. He’d looked like a perfect gentleman, but turns out he’d been fishing for intel!
Then he glanced at Su Er, who didn’t seem surprised at all, and couldn’t help sighing: truly, you never know someone just by looking at their face.
Ignoring Zhang Yi’s complicated expression, Su Er recalled the unwilling look in the factory’s Madam Director’s eyes as he left and rubbed his temples. “The danger outside campus clearly comes from the factory. We’ll probably be sent there again tomorrow for an internship. What I’m not sure about is where the internal danger on campus comes from.”
Zhang Yi looked thoughtful and pulled out the name badge he’d dug up in the woods. “I’ll go ask around about the deceased players.”
Su Er nodded.
Just as Zhang Yi reached the stairwell, he doubled back. “If you two uncover anything important…”
Su Er sat up straight and pointed at the phrase ‘Ascension of Chicken and Dog’ printed on Ji Heng’s badge. “This, right here, is my guarantee!”
Only then did Zhang Yi leave in peace.
“Guarantee?” Ji Heng’s tone lifted slightly at the end, with a trace of amusement.
After sitting still for a few seconds, Su Er met his deep gaze and gave a sheepish smile as he pulled out a key. “I got this off the security guard. Want to go snoop around?”
The night guards were supposed to patrol, and the reform camp had tight checks at night. The keychain had a big bunch of keys. Since they all looked similar, they were labeled, and one even unlocked the administration building.
Meeting each other’s gaze, they silently agreed on where they were heading: the principal’s office.
Ji Heng glanced out the window. “Let’s wait until it gets darker.”
“Alright.”
While talking, Su Er fished out an electric baton from under the bed. “Also, from the guard. Take it with you for protection.”
Ji Heng: “Leave it for now. Carrying it out in the open would look suspicious.”
Su Er: “You can hide it under your clothes.”
The air conditioning in the administration building was on full blast. Su Er held the stamped form the dorm supervisor had given him and walked in confidently. Even if someone stopped them, he could claim he was dropping it off at the academic office.
Reality turned out to be easier than expected. They met almost no resistance along the way.
Su Er couldn’t help but ask, “Was it this smooth when you got into the archives room too?”
Ji Heng nodded. “The game gives players a survival path within relatively reasonable logic.”
Su Er thought for a moment. “Like how there’s infighting in the reform camp, and they’re also in charge of eliminating students, so there’s no surveillance?”
Thinking about it that way, the game instance seemed almost generous.
Ji Heng chuckled. “Don’t forget—because there’s no surveillance, the custodian got killed and turned into a ghost so easily.”
In the end, the ghosts were still meant to be used against players.
While they were talking, the two of them reached the door to the principal’s office.
Su Er inserted the key, turned it, and pressed himself against the wall, leaving only one arm exposed.
A perfect combination of guts and extreme caution—this was classic Su Er.
Click. The door unlocked with a soft sound.
He pushed it open cautiously. Confirming there were no traps or gross surprises, he peeked in and waved to Ji Heng to come in quickly.
What should have been a tense and serious exploration ended up weirdly comical because of Su Er’s antics. Ji Heng shook his head and went straight to the stack of documents on the desk, while Su Er folded his arms and stared at the locked drawer, debating whether to force it open.
“No need,” Ji Heng suddenly said.
Hearing that, Su Er came over and saw a form in Ji Heng’s hands. The name Si Qi Mingjiao was clearly printed at the top.
In the notes section, it said: This student has received full approval, granted four A-grade evaluations. Please authorize release. The current, not-yet-retired principal had signed off with an ‘approved’ and dated it exactly one month ago.
Ji Heng suddenly smirked and pointed at the bottom right corner. “So that’s how it is.”
Su Er looked closely and noticed there were two dates—one for approval and one for release—with a one-day gap in between.
“So even if we get four A-grades today, we still have to survive one more night?”
Ji Heng nodded.
Su Er frowned. Even the girl who had been friendly earlier showed open hostility the moment she found out he might earn an A. That made him suspect the worst. “Don’t tell me the last night turns into a battle royale?”
Ji Heng: “There are only five slots. There’s no way the students would just sit and watch the opportunity slip away. The Reform Camp probably turns a blind eye to their actions.”
In ancient times, people were obsessed with cockfighting, dogfighting, and cricket fighting. To some, this desperate struggle between trapped beasts might be just as entertaining.
Su Er couldn't help but comment, “Utterly perverse gameplay.”
“It won’t be a dead end. Every year, some students manage to leave successfully,” Ji Heng said, putting the form back where he found it. “Hiding in the chaos while students tear each other apart at the end of the year is one method, but unfortunately, we don’t have much time.”
There were only seven days in total, meaning they might each have to face the malice of a Reform Camp student alone.
Su Er’s gaze darkened. “If it weren’t for the warning left by the previous batch of players, we would’ve definitely suffered.”
Ji Heng glanced at the clock on the wall. “Danger is always relative. Don’t forget, when the last batch of players came into this instance, the custodian was still alive.”
Which meant they didn’t have to face a ghost.
Su Er said nothing, privately thinking that even though the custodian had become a ghost, she hadn’t been much of a threat.
There was someone else who shared this opinion.
Top floor.
The little girl swung her lantern, causing the floor to tremble slightly. Her tone was arrogant and domineering as she said, “You haven’t achieved a single thing. What was the point of me going to all that trouble to save you?”
The custodian narrowly dodged her, fearfully glancing at the lantern in the girl’s hand. She soon pulled a long face and whined pitifully, “I wanted to act, but I was forced to reset the first night, didn't recover by the second night, and yesterday again…”
The girl cut her off coldly and issued a final ultimatum: “If it happens again tonight, I’ll turn you back into minced meat.”
Under that chilling gaze, the custodian knew she wasn’t joking.
At midnight, everything fell silent.
Su Er had gone to bed early and was deep in sleep when someone woke him with a low voice: “We have a visitor.”
He opened his eyes and looked in the direction Ji Heng indicated. The custodian was clinging to the ceiling like a spider, her head twisted 180 degrees to stare at them.
“Routine duty,” the custodian said in a tone full of despair. “There are some things I have to do.”
It was her job!
Su Er had no intention of making things difficult. After all, he had sneakily camped the respawn point earlier — in a straight fight, especially with the ghost on high alert, he wouldn’t have the upper hand.
Sighing, he made an inviting gesture. “Go ahead and perform.”
The custodian forced a horrifying smile. “Who killed me? Was it the two-timing dorm supervisor, the prank-playing students, or the colleague tempted by profit...? Foolish children, if you pick the wrong one, you must come with me.”
Su Er answered blankly, “Colleague.”
The custodian: “…Sorry to bother you.”
Then she moved to the next dorm.
Su Er turned to Ji Heng. “So this is her kill condition?”
“Seems like it,” Ji Heng replied.
Su Er’s mouth twitched. “Pretty tragic.”
Then he pulled the blanket over himself and went back to sleep.
If it hadn’t been for Su Er's analysis earlier that day, the custodian might have gotten results. But now, every player who saw her shifted from panic to confusion to calm composure, giving the standard answer without hesitation.
The custodian despondently visited room after room — until she finally encountered a breakthrough at Chen Lingfeng's dorm.
Because he had been knocked out in the archive room, he missed the player discussions afterward.
His roommate knew the correct answer, but when he was about to blurt it out, he hesitated... If Chen Lingfeng died, there’d be one less competitor for the final five spots.
Facing the hesitant player, the custodian’s dull gray eyes suddenly gleamed. Everyone else had been given an open-book exam, but here was a closed-book one!
Hope!
While Chen Lingfeng was anxiously trying to figure things out, his roommate silently mouthed the answer to the custodian. Very satisfied with this initiative, the custodian suddenly rushed to Chen Lingfeng's side: “Hurry, make your choice!”
Under pressure, Chen Lingfeng's remaining reason began to slip.
Sweating profusely, he stammered, “Why are you asking me first?”
Wasn’t there another person in the room?
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his roommate's calm demeanor and realized something. He quickly begged for help, “Tell me the answer, I can give you—”
The last syllable caught in his throat as he felt a cold liquid trickle down from his temple.
“Time’s up,” the custodian said cheerfully. “If you can’t even answer such a simple question, looks like you don’t need your brain.”
With a jab, she punctured his skull.
Before leaving, she even removed Chen Lingfeng’s head to keep as a trophy, smiling at his trembling roommate.
It took several minutes before the roommate, weak from fear, climbed down from the bunk and opened the window to air the room. Only when the scent of blood was blown away by the night breeze did he feel a little better.
Early rising was an unspoken rule among players. News of Chen Lingfeng’s death soon spread.
As for the cause of death, everyone tacitly chose to remain silent.
They had all entered the instance together, and now with one fewer competitor, they felt a mix of sorrow and secret glee. Some even thought bitterly, if only a few more had died last night, there’d be no need to fight over the final spots.
The desire to survive tangled with human nature. No one dared to meet anyone else’s gaze.
In the heavy silence, a very different voice rang out—
“I did it! I finally did it!”
The custodian carried a plastic bag with a distinct human head shape bulging from it. As she passed by the players, she wasn’t trying to be scary — instead, she was as joyful as a child: “Haha! I finally have achievements! I won’t be beaten into minced meat anymore!”
When she saw Chen Lingfeng’s roommate, her grin widened even more. She suddenly stretched out her hand. The roommate froze, hesitated, then stiffly raised his hand too.
Clap.
The custodian happily gave him a high-five. “This Aunt thanks you.”
With that, she danced and skipped away, heading upstairs to preserve her specimen.
After she left, silence blanketed the hallway.
Su Er walked over to Ji Heng and tilted his head slightly. “Is this what they call a silver-bell-like laugh?”
For a ghost to be this thrilled after killing just one person — how pathetic!
Ji Heng’s lips curved slightly. “And whose fault do you think that is?”
Su Er looked up at the ceiling and, after a long moment, rubbed his nose. “Who knows?”
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