Su Er’s expression revealed a faint hint of confusion: “This… doesn’t seem appropriate, does it?”
His gaze cleared in an instant as he pointed at the maze and said, “Didn’t you say it needs to absorb enough fear? If I’m missing…”
“You’re redundant.” The Teng Snake Lord didn’t give him a chance to finish, waving its sleeve to teleport Su Er away first.
“Deception will reopen in three days. Don’t attempt any dungeons in the meantime.”
It seemed to enjoy the state of humans, then transformed back into a snake flying in midair.
After two unexpected events, the tension in the players’ minds eased somewhat. More precisely, their attention had been completely drawn to Su Er. One player twitched at the corner of their mouth, looking at Ji Heng: “Did he always clear stages like this?”
Ji Heng avoided answering directly: “Being rigid isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
With constant surprises, the Teng Snake Lord didn’t want to hear players’ discussions for a while. A hiss escaped its throat, and with a flick of its tail, the air returned to silence.
Meanwhile, in another cramped space, Su Er floated up and down in the chaotic darkness. He had been in this strange zone for some time, pondering why he hadn’t returned to the real world yet.
Perhaps everyone needed to arrive in the real world simultaneously, and he had started first.
Sure enough, the vague, dazed state didn’t last long, and the longed-for light returned.
His body reacted slightly slower than his mind. Su Er lowered his head, realizing belatedly that he was still holding a pen.
“I’m back.”
He sighed, but the tone carried little relief.
Footsteps approached—Ji Heng stood at the doorway, tapping twice on the partially open door before entering.
Su Er turned around and shrugged helplessly: “On the surface, it looks like I got a big windfall.”
Wasting a coal ball, he could have cleared the labyrinth normally. Since it was a special instance, completing it would still yield rewards. But nothing is absolute; even on the right path, dangers could appear, requiring more effort.
Now, whether it was a loss or gain, it no longer mattered.
Suddenly realizing something, Su Er raised an eyebrow: “You have a coal ball too.”
“The maze is upgraded; this won’t be useful next time,” Ji Heng said casually.
Su Er felt a pang of regret, his gaze flickering: “Nothing is absolute.”
After all the commotion, his mood for studying had vanished. He canceled his alarm, went over answers, and asked, “Notice anything?”
He meant in the room.
“Looks mostly normal,” Ji Heng said. “Only two things: first, you probably noticed the smiles in the photos aren’t natural.”
Su Er nodded.
In the family photo, everyone’s lips curved slightly, but on closer inspection, there was an inexplicable cold dissonance, as if the three were merely going through the motions.
“Secondly, your room,” Ji Heng glanced around: “It’s arranged rather freely.”
Su Er cleared his throat and tidied the workbooks on his desk: “I’ve been busy studying lately, haven’t had time to organize.”
It was indeed a bit messy.
Ji Heng didn’t joke further. He noticed Su Er’s pen was on the left-hand side and paused slightly, recalling that in the previous instance, Su Er had mentioned a strange memory linked to being scolded as a left-hander.
“I remember most of the time you like to use your right hand.”
Su Er chuckled: “Either hand works. I can even hold a pen in each hand to copy different texts.”
Ji Heng’s expression grew serious and he asked an unexpected question: “What do you hate most?”
Su Er didn’t hesitate: “Having math scores published.”
“…Describe it conceptually.”
“Constraint.” Su Er thought for a moment: “Like now, being manipulated by instance rules for no reason.”
“Hate the game itself?”
Su Er fell silent, realizing he couldn’t answer that directly.
“Never mind if you can’t figure it out.” Seeing Su Er’s brows furrow, Ji Heng advised: “Don’t get stuck on one question.”
Su Er murmured an uncertain acknowledgment.
Before leaving, Ji Heng ordered delivery for him—chicken and fish. Su Er enjoyed the meal, then relaxed for half an hour before resuming his studies.
The afternoon was basically a battle with the 53 exercises. After dinner, he took a walk downstairs, returning when night had fully fallen.
He gave up staying up late. After washing, Su Er went to bed full of anticipation for the future. Since it had rained the day before, the weather was cool, and he had closed the window before sleeping.
In the middle of the night, an itch near his ear felt like a bug crawling. He brushed it and turned over, but the sensation remained. Reflexively, he swatted, feeling something thin slip through his finger
Having been through several instances, his body had developed basic conditioned reflexes.
When the temperature suddenly dropped, Su Er opened his eyes immediately. Just one glance nearly stopped his heart. Anyone opening their eyes to see a pale face like that would react the same. Wet hair clung to the side of the face, and the person on top looked like a water ghost.
“Zhu… cough cough…” His neck was gripped hard, voice muffled and hoarse.
“Can’t control it.” The words conveyed apology, but the hand’s grip didn’t loosen.
He grabbed her wrist to reduce the suffocating pressure while reaching under the pillow with his other hand for scissors, stabbing sharply at her slender shoulder.
The blood that flowed was almost transparent. After being pricked, Zhu Yun hesitated, giving Su Er a chance to push her away and breathe deeply.
“Original position…” She tried to speak but seemed restricted by some force.
Su Er quickly retreated to a safe area, holding the scissors in front of him to prevent an ambush. Once in a more open space, he asked: “If we collect all the achievement points, can we really leave the game?”
“Disrupt… disrupt the order…”
Finally, the word “order” was emphasized once more, and Zhu Yun’s figure gradually faded away.
On the bed.
Su Er woke from a nightmare, limbs stiff, still clutching a pair of scissors. As soon as he regained full consciousness, his muscles relaxed, and the scissors fell with a thud.
It couldn’t have been a simple dream.
He stared blankly at the ceiling.
Even the host couldn’t enter the real world—how could Zhu Yun possibly reach him through a dream? Thinking this, Su Er got up, turned on the light, and focused on the dark-colored stun gun.
“Is it related to this…”
Unfortunately, no one could answer that question.
Su Er didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. At daybreak, he quickly dressed, stuffed the books and papers from his desk into his backpack, and took a taxi to Ji Heng’s building.
Security in the upscale neighborhood was tight, but before the guard could ask anything, Ji Heng, having received a call, was already outside. “My friend.”
After Su Er registered his information, he followed Ji Heng upstairs. Once inside, they began discussing the events of the previous night.
“Zhu Yun wanted to warn me about something, but couldn’t control her murderous intent,” Sul said bluntly. “I need to borrow a place to stay for a couple of days.”
Otherwise, who knew what might happen while he slept.
Uninvited intrusion would normally be rude, but both he and Ji Heng clearly didn’t think that way.
“Seeking help immediately was wise,” Ji Heng said thoughtfully. “If the stun gun was the medium, your classmate might have been able to briefly travel between the two spaces.”
Judging from last night, the reason she didn’t do it repeatedly was that killing had become an instinct engraved in her bones.
Ji Heng frowned slightly at the thought… had she already become a ghost?
Su Er, pondering the word “order,” didn’t notice Ji Heng’s expression. “What order to disrupt remains a mystery.”
“Risking her life just to warn you shows its importance,” Ji Heng said calmly. “Consider it a prelude; it will have its effect one day.”
…Your life at risk.
Su Er pressed his fingers to his forehead. That remark stung.
The dream had been strange; sleeping in the guest room didn’t provide safety. Since they weren’t particular about such things, Su Er temporarily slept in the same bed as Ji Heng. Despite the age difference, the two had many shared topics from past instance experiences, which Su Er consulted during insomnia.
Time passed. When they were forcibly summoned into the instance for the third time, neither of them was particularly unsettled.
Under the same rules, the Teng Snake Lord coldly repeated them for the third time.
The height of the maze hadn’t changed, but a dense swarm of flying insects filled the upper air. Any attempt to replicate Su Er’s previous method was impossible.
Having gone without food for several rounds, the maze seemed restless and occasionally absorbed the insects above. While it would be ideal to eliminate the insects, the maze had little interest in non-living prey and stopped after consuming twice.
The host experimented with a mouse again.
Thrown into the air, it wasn’t swallowed by the maze; the insects devoured it to bones first.
“Don’t even think about breaking through from above,” the Teng Snake Lord said, scanning the players’ varied expressions before turning to Su Er: “When the instance ends, I’ll personally send you to the Deception.”
Su Er immediately became the center of attention. Several glances cast at him were tinged with restrained, complex emotions.
Ignoring the stares, Su Er looked at Ji Heng, lips moving slightly: Be careful.
Ji Heng nodded without expression.
As one figure after another entered the maze, soon only Su Er and the Teng Snake Lord remained.
The Teng Snake Lord didn’t take human form but coiled in the air nearby.
Putting himself in its place, Su Er expected at least a few reprimands. Yet the host remained motionless. This calm was unusual, and he guessed: “Did you inquire about me with the other hosts?”
The Teng Snake Lord’s tail twitched; its front half rose upright, flicking its tongue: “Noisy.”
In fact, Su Er was mostly correct. Not long ago, it had confronted Mister East Wind, questioning why he gave that cheating device to a player. Exhausted, Mister East Wind recounted Su Er’s past instance actions, and the Teng Snake Lord’s frustration festered.
Snakes are cunning. To be safe, it also asked other hosts about Su Er’s previous deeds and felt the situation was dire.
Determined to avoid repeating mistakes, the Teng Snake Lord would now react immediately to any action Su Er took, making various deductions.
About an hour passed before the first scream echoed inside the maze.
Su Er frowned, stepped forward, cut his hand, and tried to attract some insects with the blood. His plan: use the stun gun to absorb yin energy, easing the players’ stress while conserving the previous reserve for survival when the Deception opened.
Some insects indeed flew toward the scent of blood.
But before Su Er could take out the stun gun, the Teng Snake Lord swiped its tail, scattering the insects.
Su Er coldly asked, “What are you doing?”
“I said you’re to be escorted safely,” the Teng Snake Lord explained with sharp calculation. “It would be bad if insects bit you.”
Su Er passed the time kneading clay on the ground while the Teng Snake Lord brought stones to press it down. When Su Er stood and wanted to stretch his legs, the host followed closely.
Su Er was unbothered, even recounting past instance experiences in detail, then suddenly said, “I actually have a very interesting item.”
The Teng Snake Lord became even more alert.
Su Er didn’t act further—he just bent occasionally or, absentmindedly, scooped a handful of dirt. His actions were illogical.
Distracted by his strange behavior, the host suddenly realized they had reached the maze’s entrance and sneered: “I see. The game said to escort you; if something happened to you inside, it would be my failure.”
Pausing, it exhaled cold, murky air: “Try it, see if you can enter.”
Su Er didn’t move recklessly but stood smiling: “From just now until now, whenever I moved, you got nervous. This emotion can be summarized as worry and fear.”
“…Earlier you said the maze needed to absorb enough fear and blood to assist the Deception’s opening. Now you are the source of fear itself.”
The Teng Snake Lord’s eyes narrowed.
Su Er said, “Supplying nourishment for the maze instead of the players… what if I reported it?”
The Teng Snake Lord, previously calm, involuntarily shivered at the question.
Sul stared at it seriously: “Seems stronger than before.” He touched the maze’s exterior: “Don’t know if it’s absorbed your negative emotions. If it has, it’s an accomplice.”
The moment he finished speaking, the contact in his palm became air. The maze suddenly retreated; the flying insects scattered in alarm. Players inside were tossed like fried rice. Dust flew, and the maze stopped several meters away, delivering a message in action:
Don’t… mess… with… me!
Su Er squinted, satisfied at the scattered insects. Now, as long as Ji Heng wanted, he could use a coal ball to escape at any time.
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