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

"Yes," the bandaged man said, "but very few, and they all went crazy after they went out."

Zhou Lang's heart sank.

It seems this game is more dangerous than he imagined.

"One last question," he looked at the bandaged man, "If I go to the basement, is there any way I can come back alive?"

The bandaged man remained silent for a long time, so long that Zhou Lang thought it wouldn't answer.

"There is a way," it finally spoke, "but you must promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

"If you really go down there, help me find something," the bandaged man said. "A clean roll of bandage, the white kind."

Zhou Lang was taken aback: "That's it?"

"Yes, this is it." The bandaged man's voice held a hint of longing. "I haven't seen clean bandages in a long time."

Zhou Lang, recalling the blood-soaked bandages on the bandaged man's body, nodded: "I promise you."

"Listen carefully," the bandaged man said. "The basement door has three locks. The first is a regular iron lock, the key is with the butler. The second is a blood lock, it needs demon blood to open. The third..."

"What is the third one?"

"The third barrier is the lock on the heart," the bandaged man said. "Only those who truly want to die can open it."

Zhou Lang frowned: "What do you mean?"

"Literally," the bandaged man said. "That door reads your mind, and if you have even a shred of will to live, it won't open."

"Isn't this a paradox?" Zhou Lang said. "Those who want to live can't open the door, so why should those who want to die bother opening it?"

"That's why very few people can get in," the bandaged man said, "but it's not entirely impossible."

"What method?"

"Deceive yourself," the bandaged man said. "Make yourself believe that behind the door lies what you desire most, something so important you'd give your life for it."

Zhou Lang fell into deep thought.

This method sounds far-fetched, but upon closer examination, it's not entirely impossible.

"I understand." He stood up. "Thank you for telling me all this."

"Don't thank me," the bandaged man said. "Just remember to find me some bandages."

When Zhou Lang left the room, there were already other people working in the corridor.

He saw Xiong Batian carrying a basin of bloody water into room number 5, and Xiao Cao's companion carrying a pile of bones into room number 7.

Fear and despair were written all over everyone's face.

Zhou Lang returned to the first floor and found Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying in the lobby.

"How did it go?" Zhao Qiang asked. "Did the owner of your room give you any trouble?"

"No," Zhou Lang shook his head. "What about you?"

"My missing-limb ghost made me massage it," Zhao Qiang said with a disgusted look. "It felt like touching a pile of rotten flesh."

"My headless ghost made me tell it stories," Han Yingying said. "But it didn't have ears, so I don't know if it heard me or not."

Zhou Lang smiled and said, "At least you're all still alive."

"Oh, right." Han Yingying suddenly remembered something, "I found a note in the room."

She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, on which a few words were written in blood:

"Don't believe the man who killed the housekeeper."

Zhou Lang took the note and looked at it carefully.

The handwriting was very messy, as if it had been written in extreme fear.

"Who wrote this?" Zhao Qiang asked.

"It must be a previous player," Zhou Lang said. "It seems we're not the only ones who discovered the problem."

"So what do we do now?" Han Yingying asked.

Zhou Lang glanced at the iron door in the corner of the hall, which led to the basement.

"We'll move tonight," he said. "Go check out the basement."

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Qiang's eyes widened. "The butler said we can't go out at night!"

"So we have to be careful," Zhou Lang said. "And I have a way to avoid those ghosts."

He patted the oil lamp in his pocket.

"What method?" Han Yingying asked.

"You'll find out when the time comes," Zhou Lang said without going into details. "Now, go back to your room and rest to get some energy."

Time passed by, and soon it was seven o'clock in the evening.

The butler appeared in the hall on time and began distributing salaries.

"Xiong Batian, good rating, salary 200."

"Zhao Qiang, excellent evaluation, salary 300."

"Han Yingying, excellent evaluation, salary 300."

When it was Zhou Lang's turn, the butler paused again.

"Waves are awesome, perfect reviews, salary 500."

Zhou Lang took the money; he now had 1200 yuan in his hand.

"That concludes today's work," the butler said. "Remember, do not leave your room tonight."

It glanced at Zhou Lang, its empty eye sockets seemingly hiding some profound meaning.

After the butler left, Zhou Lang returned to his room and began preparations.

He took out the oil lamp, scissors, and chainsaw, and checked the inventory again.

Everything is ready.

At 10 p.m., the sound of wind could be heard in the corridor.

Zhou Lang opened the door; the corridor was empty, but he knew that the ghosts were in the darkness.

He lit the oil lamp.

The green light illuminated the corridor, and the figures of the ghosts immediately appeared.

They stood densely packed in the corridor, some perched on the ceiling, some hanging on the walls, all staring motionlessly at Zhou Lang.

Zhou Lang took a deep breath and walked forward, holding up the oil lamp.

The ghosts automatically made way for him, but their eyes remained fixed on him.

When he went downstairs, he saw Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying already waiting on the first floor.

"You guys..." Zhou Lang was somewhat surprised.

"We agreed to do it together," Zhao Qiang said, his voice trembling but his eyes firm.

"Besides, it's too dangerous for you to go alone," Han Yingying said.

Looking at the two of them, Zhou Lang felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

"Let's go together then," he said, "but you have to follow my instructions."

The three arrived at the iron door to the basement.

A rusty iron lock hung on the door. Zhou Lang took out a pair of scissors, aimed them at the lock, and cut it.

With a snap, the iron lock broke.

The first lock is broken.

Pushing open the iron gate, there was a downward staircase, so dark that the bottom couldn't be seen.

Zhou Lang walked ahead, holding an oil lamp, with Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying following closely behind.

The stairs were very long; it took about five minutes to reach the bottom.

"Today's pay will now be distributed."

The sound of the butler's voice interrupted Zhou Lang's thoughts, and the cane struck the ground with a crisp sound.

"Xiong Batian, excellent rating, salary 300."

"The grass has died, no pay."

"Zhao Qiang, good evaluation, salary 200."

"Han Yingying, good evaluation, salary 200."

As the butler called out a name, the fleshy balls would roll to the corresponding person, with a corresponding amount of money placed on an iron plate.

When it was Zhou Lang's turn, the butler paused for a moment.

"Wandering aimlessly, what's your opinion..."

Zhou Lang could feel the butler's stitched-up face and empty eye sockets staring at him, making the atmosphere somewhat eerie.

"Perfect, salary 500."

Zhao Qiang's eyes widened, and the others also showed expressions of surprise. Zhou Lang, however, calmly accepted the money, but was already plotting something else in his mind.

"That concludes today's work. You are free to do as you please, but remember..." Butler Sha tapped his cane, "Do not leave your room after 7 PM."

After saying this, Butler Sha turned and left, the sound of his cane striking the ground gradually fading into the distance.