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

At the end of the stairs was a narrow corridor, the walls smeared with blackened blood, and the air filled with the stench of decay.

The green light of the oil lamp illuminated the way ahead, and there were more than a dozen iron doors lined up on both sides of the corridor, each door engraved with a number.

"This looks like a hospital room," Han Yingying said, her voice trembling as she covered her nose.

Zhou Lang walked forward, holding the oil lamp. As he passed the first door, a low sobbing sound came from inside.

Zhao Qiang took a step back in fright: "There's something inside!"

"Don't panic." Zhou Lang stopped and looked inside through the small window in the door.

Sitting in the room was a charred humanoid figure, its skin cracked and revealing the flesh beneath. It huddled in a corner, hugging its knees, and kept shaking its body.

"They are victims of the fire." Zhou Lang withdrew his gaze. "They are trapped here, endlessly reliving the pain they suffered before their deaths."

Han Yingying bit her lip, her eyes reddening slightly.

The three continued forward, and behind each door was a different ghost. Some were missing limbs, some were covered in blood, and some were just skeletons.

At the end of the corridor was a special door, twice the size of the others, with no number on it, only a strange symbol engraved on it.

As Zhou Lang approached, he noticed three locks on the door.

The first lock was an ordinary iron lock, which he had already cut with scissors.

The second line is a groove, shaped like a palm.

"Blood Lock." Zhou Lang recalled the bandaged man's words; it could only be opened with the blood of a ghost.

He turned to look at the doors in the corridor: "I need some ghost blood."

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Qiang's eyes widened. "Those ghosts will kill us!"

"No," Zhou Lang shook his head. "They're locked in the room and can't get out."

He walked to the nearest door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

The charred ghost in the room raised its head, its empty eye sockets staring at Zhou Lang.

"I'm sorry," Zhou Lang said, raising the scissors. "I need some of your blood."

The charred ghost didn't move; it just kept staring at him.

Zhou Lang approached and plunged the scissors into the charred ghost's arm. Black blood flowed out, which he caught in a bottle he carried with him.

"Skill triggered! The Charred Ghost's Fright value is 35, gain 35 points of Eerie!"

The charred ghost let out a piercing scream, and its body began to tremble violently.

Zhou Lang put the bottle away and turned to leave the room.

Returning to the peculiar door, he poured the ghost blood into the groove.

Blood seeped through the cracks in the door, making a sizzling sound. A few seconds later, the groove clicked open, and the second lock opened.

Now only the third lock remains.

Zhou Lang stared at the door, the bandaged man's words echoing in his mind.

"Only someone who truly wants to die can open it."

He closed his eyes, and his sister's face appeared in his mind.

His sister has been missing for over a month, and he entered the game to find her. If the secret of this game truly lies behind the door, then he must go in.

Even if it costs me my life.

Zhou Lang opened his eyes and placed his hand on the door.

A tremor came from the door, and a cold force surged into his body, as if probing his heart.

Time passed second by second.

Just when Zhou Lang thought he had failed, the door made a dull thud.

The third lock is open.

"How did you do that?" Han Yingying looked at him in surprise.

Zhou Lang did not answer, but pushed open the door.

Behind the door was a huge room, more than ten times larger than the ward above.

In the center of the room was an operating table, on which lay a person.

To be precise, he is a person pieced together from different parts.

Its head came from different people; the left half was male, and the right half was female. The same was true of its body, with limbs of different lengths and skin colors.

The strangest thing is that this pieced-together person is still alive.

Its chest was heaving, its eyes were open, and its pupils were unfocused as it stared at the ceiling.

"This is the dean's favorite patient?" Zhao Qiang's voice changed.

Zhou Lang approached the operating table, the light of the oil lamp illuminating the assembled human face.

It suddenly turned its head and stared at Zhou Lang.

"You've arrived."

The voices coming from its mouth were a mixture of male and female sounds, which sounded particularly eerie.

"You were waiting for me?" Zhou Lang frowned.

"I'm waiting for everyone," the assembler said. "Everyone who enters this game will eventually come here."

Why?

"Because I need a perfect body." The spliced ​​figure turned its eyes to its own body. "These incomplete parts cannot bring me back to life."

Zhou Lang looked at it: "You want to use our bodies?"

"It's not just you." The spliced ​​figure laughed, its spliced ​​face twisted even more horribly. "Everyone who enters the game is my material."

"Those things the room owners asked for, were they all for you?"

"Yes." The assembler nodded. "They help me collect materials, and I give them freedom."

"What freedom?"

"The freedom to leave this manor," the splicer said. "Once I am resurrected, this game will end, and all the ghosts will be free."

Zhou Lang fell silent.

If what the piecer says is true, then this game is a huge trap. Players think they can leave after completing the quest, but in reality, they are just providing materials for this monster.

"You don't believe me?" the splicer looked at him.

"I was just thinking," Zhou Lang said, "if you really could be resurrected, why wait until now?"

The person assembling the fabric froze in a smile.

"Because you're missing the most important thing," Zhou Lang continued, "a complete heart."

The spliced ​​figure narrowed its eyes: "You're very clever."

"So you've been waiting," Zhou Lang said, "waiting for someone with a healthy heart to appear."

"That's right." The person who pieced things together no longer hid it. "And you are the one I've been waiting for."

As soon as he finished speaking, more than a dozen chains suddenly rose up around the operating table and attacked Zhou Lang and the other two.

Zhou Lang reacted quickly, raising his chainsaw to block the chains.

A buzzing sound rang out, the chain was sawed off, and fell to the ground.

"A ghost artifact?" the person piecing together the puzzle exclaimed in surprise. "How do you have a ghost artifact?"

"I found it." Zhou Lang said, holding the chainsaw. "Now can we have a proper talk?"

The person who pieced things together stared at him, a complex emotion flashing in their eyes.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"A deal," Zhou Lang said. "I'll help you find a whole heart, and you tell me how to leave this game."

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Qiang grabbed Zhou Lang. "You're going to help it?"

"I'm not crazy." Zhou Lang looked at the assembled mannequin. "I just want to get out of here alive."

The person who pieced things together was silent for a moment: "What makes you think I'd agree?"

"Because you had no choice," Zhou Lang said. "How long have you been trapped here? Ten years? Twenty years? If I hadn't helped you, how much longer would you have waited?"

The body of the person being pieced together began to tremble, and the stitched parts made a clicking sound.

"Okay," it finally spoke, "I promise you."

"Then tell me first," Zhou Lang said, "how do I leave this game?"