I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

"Dead..."

Zhao Weilai repeated it softly again, and tears fell down without warning.

She didn't know these two people, had never even spoken to them, and had no idea what they looked like.

But the reality of death came crashing down on me with such a heavy weight.

People who were attending classes, eating, and walking on campus just a few days ago are gone today.

Who will be next?

Is it her, Ziwen, or Ding Feifan?

Tears fell onto the back of my hand; they were icy cold.

Deng Ziwen held her hand, his throat tightening, but he couldn't utter a single word of comfort.

He was terrified.

Ding Feifan turned his head away and took a deep breath.

His heart was pounding, and he felt a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

Two lives lost, just like those two lines of text, gone.

He had previously clung to a sliver of hope that it might be a collective hallucination, or some kind of new weapon.

Now it seems that's not the case at all.

This is real.

People really do die in dungeons.

……

Don't overthink it.

Ding Feifan's voice was shaky, but he still tried to keep his tone steady, "As long as we successfully check in, we can leave. There's still a chance... As long as we hurry up and search, I believe we can leave soon."

That's what he said, but he himself wasn't sure.

The knocking on the window continued, "pat-pat," like a hammer blow to everyone's heart.

After an unknown amount of time, Deng Ziwen's stomach growled, its sound particularly clear in the quiet room.

He was a little embarrassed.

From noon yesterday until now, these people have gone almost a day and a night without eating.

After another life-or-death struggle in the afternoon, I was completely exhausted.

"Let's find something to eat." Zhao Weilai wiped away his tears. "This office is so big, there must be something to eat. If all else fails, write an IOU and consider it a loan."

If this continues, we'll starve to death before we're killed by the ghosts.

The three men silently got up and quietly searched the office.

The filing cabinet was full of files and forms, and the drawers contained office supplies such as staplers, paper clips, and ink pads; there was no food.

Zhao Weilai simply squatted down and turned to rummage through the trash can under the desk.

Fortunately, she was still lucky.

In the trash can under one of the desks, there was a half-open bag of soda crackers and two cups of unfinished cold soy milk.

—It must have been leftovers from some teacher working overtime, who took a bite because it was too sweet and then threw it away.

"There's food here," she said softly. "It's in the trash can; it must have been thrown away by someone."

Deng Ziwen was a little hesitant to accept it: "Is what's in the trash can... really edible?"

"It's better than nothing." Ding Feifan walked over, looked at it, and said, "What's in the trash can is waste, so it shouldn't count as us taking public property. Let's have something to eat first; it's better than going hungry."

There's still a little bit of the bag of biscuits left. They're lemon-flavored, a bit damp, and soft.

The soy milk had cooled down and had a slightly beany smell, with a thin layer of bean skin clinging to the bottom of the straw.

The three people sat around on the ground and divided the cookies into three portions.

No one spoke; they all lowered their heads and slowly chewed the softened biscuits.

It tasted bad, even a bit unpalatable.

But nobody complained.

In places like this, it's good enough to have something to eat.

"If I had known, I should have carried some food with me like Fu Qinqin did."

Zhao Weilai took a sip of the cold, rancid soy milk. The icy liquid slid down his throat, making his stomach feel a little uncomfortable.

Deng Ziwen noticed her frown and stuffed his own cookie into her hand:

"Eat up. When we get back, we'll go to that Thai restaurant you've always wanted to try."

Zhao Wei looked at the cookies in her hand and suddenly remembered that she had been arguing with Deng Ziwen earlier.

They complained that he lacked ambition and that he wanted to go back to his hometown to take the civil service exam.

At that time, she felt that graduation, work, and the future were all extremely important matters.

Now she realizes that just being alive is already a blessing.

……

"By the way," Ding Feifan suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, "Zhao, what's with that... profession you awakened this afternoon?"

Zhao Weilai raised his head, thought for a moment, and felt there was nothing he couldn't say:

"It's like I suddenly heard a voice in my head telling me that I've awakened the butcher profession, my talent is 'Paoding', and there's a certain probability of triggering a weakness detection."

"There are dungeons, there are classes, it's like playing a real-life game," Ding Feifan murmured. "I wonder if they've noticed we're missing yet."

"They definitely know. Maybe the police are trying to rescue us right now."

Deng Ziwen said with a wry smile, "Aunt Liu has already gone out; she'll definitely call the police."

Zhao Weilai remained silent.

She secretly clenched the things in her pocket with her fingertips.

—It was a small clay figure made of black clay. It was ugly, crooked and twisted, with all the facial features blurred together.

Calling them "mud figures" is actually a bit of a stretch.

At first glance, it looks like a lump of poop has evolved limbs.

That was something Liu Guilan secretly slipped to her before disappearing into her arms.

Zhao Weilai didn't react at first, and by the time he wanted to ask what it was, Liu Guilan had already disappeared.

Looking back now, Liu Guilan may have also awakened to her professionalism.

Otherwise, how could an ordinary cafeteria worker like her have such a thing?

But she didn't say it.

For some reason, she didn't want others to know about it.

Perhaps it was out of personal motives, or perhaps it was for other reasons.

She glanced at Ding Feifan, then quickly looked away.

Ding Feifan was still sighing, "Professions should be randomly awakened."

He paused, then looked at the two of them: "Do you think other people might also awaken? For example, Weng Yang, she was the first to discover the mission trap, and her reaction was so quick, could she have awakened as well?"

"I don't know," Zhao Weilai shook his head. "She didn't say."

Weng Yang looked calm and composed; even if she had truly awakened something, she might not have said it.

"Okay, let's not talk about this anymore."

Ding Feifan checked the time. "It's almost midnight. The rules say to go to sleep as soon as the lights are out. Let's get some rest and be well-rested so we can find the remaining checkpoints tomorrow."

The three of them spread the documents on the floor as a mattress.

The office was small, and the three people were very close together, almost shoulder to shoulder.

Privacy doesn't matter anymore; warm bodies pressed together offer at least a sense of security.

The banging on the window continued, "pat pat pat pat," as if it would never stop.

Zhao Weilai lay down next to Deng Ziwen, staring at the ceiling with his eyes open.

In the darkness, the emergency lights were very weak, and only a blurry outline of the ceiling could be seen.

Her mind was a jumbled mess, one moment the water ghost's swollen face, the next the system's cold death notification, and then the look in Liu Guilan's eyes when she handed her the clay figure.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she finally drifted off to sleep.

My dream was filled with blackish-green pus and swollen human faces.

……

……

3:30 a.m.

Deng Ziwen was awakened by the pain.

I had waves of cramping pain in my stomach, like something was twisting and pulling me down.

A cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead, and he immediately realized that it must have been caused by that cup of cold soy milk.

The soy milk had cooled down, and with the hot weather, it had already started to spoil. It would be strange if you drank it without getting an upset stomach.

He gritted his teeth and endured it for a while, but the cramping pain not only did not subside, it became more and more severe.

No, I really can't hold back anymore.

He sat up gently, not wanting to wake Zhao Weilai. But as soon as he moved, Ding Feifan beside him woke up.

"What's wrong? Is something going on?" Ding Feifan asked in a low voice.

"Instructor Ding..." Deng Ziwen's voice trembled slightly, "I...I have a stomachache and need to go to the toilet."

Ding Feifan was stunned for a moment, then realized what was happening.

He glanced at the door and then at the window.

It was past three in the morning, the deepest part of the night. A thick white fog hung in the air outside; who knew what might be lurking in the corridor?

"We can't go out," Ding Feifan said softly. "It's too dangerous. Just bear with it a little longer, and we'll talk about it when it's light."

"I...I can't hold it in anymore..." Deng Ziwen's face was flushed, his stomach churning. "If I hold it in any longer, I'm going to poop in my pants..."

He was both ashamed and anxious, his forehead covered in sweat.

It was incredibly embarrassing to do it in front of my girlfriend and a stranger.

But I just couldn't resist anymore.

Ding Feifan was also in a dilemma.

Let's go outside. Who knows what might be in the hallway? It's too dangerous.

If we don't go out, we can't really let him poop in his pants.

He glanced around the office, his gaze landing on the empty trash can in the corner.

"How about..." Ding Feifan pointed to the trash can with some difficulty, "you... just take care of it here. Anyway, the trash can is empty, you can just throw it out when you're done."

Deng Ziwen's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

"This...this won't do!" he said in a low voice, both anxious and embarrassed. "NIO is still here!"

Zhao Weilai had actually woken up a long time ago.

She overheard their conversation, pretended to be asleep with her eyes closed, and was incredibly embarrassed.

"What time is it? Why are you still worrying about this?"

Ding Feifan's tone was very realistic. He spread his hands and said, "Is life more important or face? Have you forgotten about that water ghost at the pavilion in the middle of the lake? If you run into something outside, you'll lose your life. What do you care about face then?"

Deng Ziwen remained silent. At that moment, the thought of pulling down his pants even overshadowed his fear of death.

His eyes rolled back in his head in a panic, and his whole body was trembling.

When a person has diarrhea, they are not afraid of dying.

The restroom in the administration building is just at the end of the corridor, a few dozen meters away.

—Run faster, you'll be back in two minutes.

"I'm going there." Deng Ziwen straightened up with a mournful face, grabbed the mop handle on the ground, "I really can't take it anymore."

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Weilai, who had been pretending to be asleep, got up and grabbed him. "Don't you know how dangerous it is outside?"

"It's better than... soiling my pants." Deng Ziwen gritted his teeth. "I can run fast, it'll be fine. You guys wait here, I'll lock the door and knock when I come back."

As he spoke, he walked towards the door, his hand already gripping the doorknob.

Ding Feifan wanted to stop him, but seeing his face flushed red, he couldn't bear to.

A distance of several tens of meters, in theory... should be fine, right?

But just as Deng Ziwen turned the lock, preparing to open the door—

"Knock knock knock".

Three soft sounds came from outside the door.

Very lightly, three times, with a hint of caution.

They looked like polite students, standing outside the door.

All three of them held their breath at the same time.

Ding Feifan made a shushing gesture, then quietly stood up and walked to the door.

Zhao Weilai slowly controlled his breathing.

Deng Ziwen completely forgot about his stomachache; the hairs on his body stood on end.

"Knock knock knock".

The tapping was neither too light nor too heavy, with a regular rhythm, like someone tapping their fingers on a wooden door.

It's still the same rhythm, neither too fast nor too slow.

There was an inexplicable eeriness in the administration building late at night.

Who's outside?

Why would someone be walking around outside at 3:30 in the morning?

Was Chow Sang Sang acting alone?

How did Chow Sang Sang know they were here?

Or... something else has come from outside?