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

Zhou Lang tried to open the glass cabinet, but it wouldn't budge. He then tried with a chainsaw; the moment the saw blade touched the glass, intense sparks flew, and the chainsaw was bounced away.

"The security level is very high." He put away the chainsaw. "It can't be opened for now. There should be a way to open this cabinet in the hidden compartment in the master bedroom."

The three returned the way they came. When they went upstairs, the ghosts in the corridor were still there. The oil lamp shone on them, and they made way for them, but this time Zhou Lang noticed a detail—the ghosts' eyes were not looking at him, but at the oil lamp in his hand.

To be precise, it was the fire in the oil lamp.

Green will-o'-the-wisps.

"Are you afraid of this?" Zhou Lang raised the oil lamp.

The ghosts all took a step back in unison.

interesting.

Back on the second floor, the three parted ways in the corridor. Before returning to her room, Han Yingying said, "Be careful of that butler who killed you tomorrow."

Zhou Lang nodded.

Zhao Qiang hesitated for a moment: "Brother Lang, what if something happens tomorrow night—"

"Nothing will happen."

"You always say that."

"Didn't they always survive?"

Zhao Qiang wanted to argue, but after thinking about it, he realized it seemed to be true. After hesitating for a while, he left with a curt "You're awesome," and closed the door.

Zhou Lang returned to his room but didn't go to sleep immediately. He took out the brass key and examined it from all angles. On the handle of the key was a relief—a smiling skull, exactly the same as the eternal smile on the butler's face.

He put the key under his pillow and lay down.

Something is crawling on the ceiling.

Zhou Lang didn't move. He was used to it.

The thing crawled for a while, making rustling sounds, and then a pale hand drooped down from the ceiling and slowly reached towards Zhou Lang's face.

Zhou Lang kept his eyes closed, and when the hand was about ten centimeters away, he suddenly opened them—

"Hey!"

A bloodcurdling scream came from the ceiling, and the hand withdrew at an unbelievable speed, followed by a frantic crawling sound—the thing had escaped.

**[Successfully scared the ghost! Reward: 50 Ghost Coins!]**

A system notification popped up.

Zhou Lang rolled over contentedly and closed his eyes.

Why not make money if you can't?

Day three.

At seven o'clock in the morning, the butler appeared as usual to assign tasks.

Today's task was different from the previous two days. The butler stood in the center of the hall, his skeletal face beaming with a smile that was even wider than usual—if a skeleton could smile any wider.

"Today is your last day at the manor," it said. "The master will host a banquet for you all tonight. Before then, please help clean the banquet hall."

Banquet hall.

Zhou Lang and Han Yingying exchanged a glance.

After assigning the tasks, the butler left, specifically instructing, "The banquet will begin at 8 PM. Please dress formally. Your clothes have been placed in your rooms."

"Dressed up?" Zhao Qiang's voice was a little shrill. "They even provided us with clothes?"

"I'm afraid you won't get enough flavor in it," Zhou Lang said.

"What kind of ridiculous analogy is that—" Zhao Qiang stopped mid-sentence, stunned. "Wait, are you serious?"

Zhou Lang didn't reply and walked towards the banquet hall.

The banquet hall was in the east wing of the manor. As soon as the door was pushed open, the three of them were stunned.

This place is usually locked. It's very large inside, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the high dome, and long banquet tables stretching from one end to the other, already set with silver cutlery—exactly the same as the ones on the table in the basement.

But the tableware here is more exquisite, with patterns engraved on every knife and fork.

"Four seats," Han Yingying counted, "just enough for the four of us."

Xiong Batian arrived at some point and stood at the door, looking inside. This burly man had always been a loner and rarely spoke to Zhou Lang and the others. But today, his expression was strange; his brows were furrowed and his lips were tightly pressed together.

"You went to the basement last night," he suddenly said.

Zhou Lang turned to look at him: "How did you know?"

"The lock on the iron gate is broken," Xiong Batian said. "I want to go and take a look, but I don't have the tools."

He paused. "What did you find?"

Zhou Lang briefly explained the situation in the basement. Xiong Batian listened and remained silent for a while.

"So tonight's banquet is a trap."

"almost."

"So what are your plans?"

Zhou Lang glanced at him. This burly man named Xiong Batian had kept his distance from them before, but now he was taking the initiative to talk to them. Either he sensed danger and wanted to band together, or he had his own plans.

But regardless of the type, having one more combatant is always better than having one less.

"Clean normally during the day, don't arouse the butler's suspicion. I'll go to the master bedroom this afternoon."

"The master bedroom?" Xiong Batian frowned. "Is that even possible to get in?"

"I have the key."

Xiong Batian looked at him for a few seconds: "Fine. Tell me what to do, and I'll cooperate."

The four of them began cleaning the banquet hall. They wiped tables, mopped floors, and cleaned windows—all the usual chores. But Zhou Lang was observing the layout of the room as he worked.

The banquet hall has two exits, a main entrance and a side entrance. The side entrance leads to the kitchen—a heavy oak door, unlocked but impossible to open.

Zhou Lang tried pushing the door several times, but it wouldn't budge. He crouched down to look through the crack in the door; there was a dim, yellowish light inside, and shadows flickered by from time to time.

Something is bustling about in the kitchen.

He stood up, pretended he hadn't done anything, and continued wiping the windows.

The morning's work ended quickly. At noon, the butler brought lunch—bread and soup. Zhou Lang looked at the bowl of soup and stirred it with a spoon. The soup was thick and dark reddish in color.

He didn't drink it.

Zhao Qiang brought the bowl closer and asked, "Aren't you going to drink?"

"Smell it."

Zhao Qiang brought the bowl closer and took a sniff, his face immediately turning pale. The smell was indescribable; it wasn't spoiled, but it had an inexplicable sweet and fishy odor.

Han Yingying also put down her bowl. Xiong Batian, who was drinking, looked down at the soup in his bowl when he heard the commotion, and pushed the bowl away.

"The bread should be fine." Zhou Lang broke off a piece of bread, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed it, and said, "It's just awful."

The four of them ate their bread, and none of them touched the bowl of soup again.

At 2 PM, Zhou Lang began his operation.

He had Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying keep watch in the second-floor corridor, while Xiong Batian stood guard at the stairwell. The butler usually wouldn't show up in the afternoon, but better safe than sorry.

The master bedroom was at the very back of the third floor. Zhou Lang had passed by it before but never gone in. The door was locked, so he took out a brass key and inserted it into the lock.

Click.

The door opened.

The master bedroom was large, nearly fifty or sixty square meters. The furniture inside was all old-fashioned: a four-poster bed, a wardrobe, a full-length mirror, and a desk. The curtains were drawn tightly, making it very dark.

Zhou Lang went inside with an oil lamp, but didn't light it—it was daytime, so there was no need for will-o'-the-wisp; lighting the lamp would only give him away. He relied on a sliver of light filtering through the curtains to orient himself.

There was an open diary on the desk.

He leaned closer to look; the date on the first page was over thirty years ago. The handwriting was neat and in English, but Zhou Lang discovered that the game could automatically recognize all languages ​​within the instance—it was a game mechanic.

The diary entries were fragmented, and Zhou Lang quickly flipped through them, picking out the important parts.