A bizarre and terrifying experience; I messed up the dungeon world.

"In the room where the butler was killed," it said through gritted teeth. "But I advise you not to go; what's in there is beyond your capabilities."

Zhou Lang didn't say anything more, turned around and left the restaurant.

The others looked at each other, but eventually followed.

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Qiang caught up. "Stealing the keys to kill the butler? He's the butler of this manor!"

"I won't steal it." Zhou Lang shook his head. "I have other ways."

He remembered the ghosts illuminated by the oil lamp last night; they were all standing in the corridor, as if waiting for something.

If we can figure out what they are waiting for, we might find the key to breaking the deadlock.

"It's 8:30 now." Zhou Lang glanced at the clock in the lobby. "There's still half an hour until 9:00. Let's go check out the third floor first."

"What are you looking at?" Han Yingying asked.

"Let's see what those room owners really want."

As the three went upstairs, Xiong Batian and his two companions followed.

"Wait," Xiong Batian called out to them, "Can we come together?"

Zhou Lang glanced at him: "Okay, but there's a condition."

"What are the conditions?"

"Tell me everything you know."

Xiong Batian hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded.

The six people gathered in the corridor on the third floor. Xiong Batian spoke up: "I'm serving room number 5. Inside is a spliced ​​monster. It says it wants a complete heart."

"I'm in room number 7," said Little Grass's companion. "There's a drowned ghost inside, and it wants a pair of eyes."

"I'm in room number 8," the last student said. "Inside is a hanged ghost; it has ten fingers."

After listening, Zhou Lang fell into deep thought.

Human brain, heart, eyes, fingers...

These things, when put together, are like piecing together a complete person.

"Have you ever considered this?" Zhou Lang suddenly said, "that what these ghosts want might not be for themselves?"

"What do you mean?"

"They might be collecting materials for someone," Zhou Lang said, looking towards the end of the corridor. "And that person is very likely in the basement."

As soon as he finished speaking, all the lights in the corridor suddenly went out.

In the darkness, the sound of the butler's cane striking the ground could be heard.

"Thump, thump, thump."

One step, one step, getting closer and closer.

The darkness came too suddenly.

Zhou Lang instinctively reached for his pocket, but stopped abruptly just as his fingers touched the oil lamp. Lighting the lamp now would expose the fact that he possessed the ghost artifact.

"Don't move," he said in a low voice.

The sound of the cane tapping the ground echoed in the corridor, accompanied by an increasingly strong stench of decay.

Han Yingying gripped Zhou Lang's clothes tightly, her hands trembling. Zhao Qiang's breathing became rapid, and the others weren't much better off.

"Thump."

The sound stopped in front of them.

Zhou Lang could feel something staring at him, and the feeling of being stared at by death made his scalp tingle.

"The time is not up yet."

The voice of the butler being killed rang out in the darkness, devoid of any emotion.

Why didn't you wait in the room?

No one dared to answer.

The silence lasted a few seconds, then the lights came back on.

The butler stood in the middle of the corridor, his stitched-up face expressionless, his empty eye sockets sweeping over everyone.

"I don't like people who don't follow the rules." It tapped its cane. "Next time you come up early, I'll break your legs."

After saying that, the butler turned and left, the sound of his cane gradually fading into the distance.

Once it had completely disappeared, Zhao Qiang finally breathed a sigh of relief: "That scared me to death..."

"It's warning us," Han Yingying said. "That sentence was said on purpose for us to hear."

Zhou Lang nodded; he had noticed it too. The butler's appearance was too coincidental, as if he knew they would come upstairs beforehand.

"We're being watched." He looked around. "There are probably eyes everywhere in this manor."

This idea sent chills down everyone's spine.

"Shall we still go to the basement?" Xiong Batian asked.

"Go," Zhou Lang said firmly, "but not now. Let's talk about it after today's work is finished."

The clock struck nine, and the group returned to their respective rooms.

Zhou Lang pushed open the door to room number 4. The bandaged man was still lying on the bed. When he saw Zhou Lang come in, the bandages twitched a few times.

"You're here again." The bandaged man's voice echoed in my mind. "I thought you were going to kill me right away."

"Killing you won't do me any good." Zhou Lang sat down on the edge of the bed. "I have some questions I want to ask you."

"Ask away, I'm yours now anyway." The bandaged man's tone was full of helplessness.

"What exactly is this villa?"

The bandaged man was silent for a moment: "Do you really want to know?"

"Otherwise, why would I ask you?"

"Alright." The bandaged man sighed. "This used to be a sanatorium, specifically for patients with mental illnesses. But then a fire broke out, and everyone inside died."

"Then what?"

"And then this place became what it is now," the bandaged man continued. "Those who died became ghosts, trapped here, reliving the pain of their lives day after day."

Zhou Lang frowned: "What about killing the butler? Was he also a patient?"

"No, it was the dean." The bandaged man's voice turned deep. "It was the one that started that fire."

Why?

"Because it went mad," the bandaged man said. "It thought only death could cure these patients, so one night, it locked all the doors and set the whole building on fire."

Zhou Lang gasped.

"What about the basement? What's there?"

The bandaged man suddenly stopped talking.

"What's wrong?" Zhou Lang sensed something was amiss.

"The basement..." the bandaged man's voice was filled with fear, "that's where the director's favorite patient is kept."

"What kind of patient?"

"A patient even the hospital director couldn't cure," the bandaged man said. "They say he survived the fire, but turned into something more terrifying than a ghost. The director keeps it in the basement and sends it food down every day."

"Food?" Zhou Lang suddenly realized something. "Could it be human brains, hearts, eyes, or something like that?"

"How did you know?" the bandaged man asked in surprise.

Zhou Lang didn't answer; he already understood.

The things the room owners wanted weren't for their own use; they wanted them delivered to the basement.

"Does that thing eat people?"

"It's not just about eating," the bandaged man said. "It takes a person apart and then puts them back together, trying to reassemble a perfect body."

Why?

"Because it wants to be resurrected." The bandaged man's voice grew even deeper. "It wants to come back to life using someone else's body."

Zhou Lang fell silent.

If the bandaged man is telling the truth, then the truth of this game is quite obvious.

The players are trapped here, not to complete any mission, but to provide materials for that thing in the basement.

"How many more people have died here?" Zhou Lang asked.

"I don't know," the bandaged man said. "I only know that every time new people come, there are always a few less in the end."

Has anyone managed to escape?