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

"Shen Ye," Zhou Lang called out in that direction.

The man in the gray hoodie turned around, revealing a young face, in his early twenties, with plain features—the kind of face that would be easily lost in a crowd. He looked at Zhou Lang, without speaking or moving.

"Are you teammate D?" Zhao Qiang walked over enthusiastically. "Bro, let's team up! My name is Zhao—"

"Don't come any closer." Shen Ye's voice was cold, without hostility, but it kept people at arm's length.

Zhao Qiang stopped in his tracks, turned around to look at Zhou Lang, and had a "what's wrong with this guy?" look on his face.

Zhou Lang ignored Shen Ye. It was normal to keep your distance from teammates assigned by the system, since you weren't familiar with them. But what bothered him was something else—Shen Ye's reaction didn't seem like social anxiety, but rather wariness.

A person who is highly wary of their teammates is either someone who has been tricked or someone with ulterior motives.

The teleportation countdown has reached zero.

The white light engulfed everyone again.

The dungeon is called "Mirror Town".

After landing, the three—no, the five—stood on a desolate street. On both sides of the street were dilapidated two-story buildings, each with different talismans pasted on its windows, yellowed and blackened, their edges curling up. At the end of the street stood a clock tower, its hands stopped at twelve.

The air was very cold, and your breath condensed into white mist.

A system notification popped up:

[S-Rank Dungeon - Mirror Town]

[Mission Objective: Find out the truth behind the town's disappearance and leave within seven days.]

Rule 1: The world in a mirror is symmetrical to reality, but not identical.

Rule Two: Do ​​not say your real name in front of a mirror.

Rule Three: Every midnight, a bell will ring in town. You must remain in a place with light until the bell stops ringing.

Zhou Lang read the rules twice.

Teammate Cristiano Ronaldo Qishan was a burly man in his thirties with a square face and a northern accent; he was clearly an experienced veteran. He pulled out a stack of sticky notes from his backpack, quickly wrote down three rules, and gave two copies to Zhou Lang and Han Yingying.

"Keep a backup, just in case the system panel has a bug," Luo Qishan said, showing his efficiency.

Shen Ye stood at the very back of the group, about seven or eight meters away from Zhao Qiang, who was closest to him. He looked down at the system panel, his expression calm—too calm. A normal player entering an S-rank dungeon would at least feel a little nervous. But Shen Ye's reaction was more like looking at a work schedule.

There wasn't much to do on the first day. The five of them split up to explore the town's basic layout: two main streets, an abandoned square, a clock tower, and a dozen or so mirrors of various sizes scattered throughout the town—some embedded in walls, some standing by the roadside, and some even hanging in trees, tinkling and swaying in the wind.

When Zhao Qiang walked past a full-length mirror, his reflection in the mirror was a beat behind in catching up.

"Holy crap!" Zhao Qiang jumped up.

"Rule one," Han Yingying reminded her, "The world in the mirror is symmetrical to reality, but not the same. Your reflection has its own rhythm."

Zhao Qiang rubbed the goosebumps on his arm: "Then what is it? Is it a ghost?"

"I'm not sure," Han Yingying said, "but it's best not to stare at yourself in the mirror for too long."

Night fell quickly. The five men found a relatively intact house to use as their base, lit a campfire, and assigned watch shifts.

Zhou Lang volunteered to take the early morning bus.

After everyone else had gone inside to rest, he sat on the porch steps, twirling the folding dagger in his hand. Moonlight shone on the street, and the mirrors gleamed with a faint silver luster.

Footsteps.

It came from behind.

Zhou Lang didn't turn around; he flicked the dagger between his fingers.

"Why are you up so late at night? What's the matter?"

Shen Ye walked over to him and sat down at the other end of the steps, with a distance of more than a meter between them.

Silent for a long time.

"Are you a free spirit?" Shen Ye asked.

What do you think?

"I've seen your dungeon stats," Shen Ye said. "You've cleared S-rank dungeons consecutively, with all your ratings being SSS. Many guilds want to recruit you."

Zhou Lang waited for him to get to the point.

"The Dark Abyss Guild wants to as well," Shen Ye said.

"oh."

Shen Ye glanced at him sideways. Moonlight shone on his pale face, the lines of his face angular and defined by the interplay of light and shadow.

Aren't you curious how I know all this?

"You are from the Dark Abyss," Zhou Lang said.

Shen Ye's expression finally changed—a fleeting look of surprise, which he quickly suppressed.

"A guess?"

"What a load of rubbish." Zhou Lang sheathed his dagger. "When you entered the dungeon, I caught a glimpse of your system panel. Regular players have blue borders, guild members have gold borders. Yours is black and gold, the standard for the Dark Abyss Guild."

Shen Ye fell silent.

"So," Zhou Lang turned to look at him, a sliver of moonlight reflecting in his pupils, "are you here to recruit people, or to kill?"

In the darkness, Shen Ye's breathing changed rhythm.

Shen Ye did not answer immediately.

The moonlight was half swallowed by the clouds, the silver luster of the mirrors on the street dimmed, and the wind blew in from the east, making the broken wind chimes above the porch jingle.

Zhou Lang didn't urge him. He put the dagger back into his waistband, took out half a crushed biscuit from his pocket, broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth, crunching it.

Shen Ye watched him eat the biscuits for a while, then suddenly asked, "What if I said the latter?"

"Then you're not very lucky."

Why?

"Because you told me." Zhou Lang brushed away the crumbs of the biscuit. "Generally speaking, someone who wants to kill someone wouldn't come to chat with their target in the middle of the night. You're either hesitating or reassessing the situation."

Shen Ye remained silent for a while.

"Dark Abyss gave me a mission," he said, his voice low. "The target is you and Han Yingying."

Zhou Lang continued chewing the biscuit.

"You rejected all guilds. In Dark Abyss's view, an uncontrolled high-rated player is more dangerous than a rival guild. Lu Ming gave me two choices—deal with you in the dungeon and get 30,000 points; or recruit you and get 10,000 points."

"You chose 30,000."

"I chose 30,000," Shen Ye admitted readily.

Zhou Lang turned to look at him. Moonlight peeked through the edge of the clouds. Shen Ye's face was expressionless, but his left index finger was constantly rubbing his thumb—a nervous little gesture.

"So you're telling me this now because you've changed your mind?"

Shen Ye didn't answer the question, but instead asked, "What does that line of text mean?"

Zhou Lang narrowed his eyes.

"They're not trapped inside the instance; they're moving out." Shen Ye said each word clearly, "The inscription on the wall in the basement of the manor instance. You saw it, and I saw it too."

Zhou Lang's hand rested on the dagger. His attention instantly focused—Shen Ye said he had also seen the words, which meant he had also been in the basement at the time. When Zhou Lang went down into the basement, only Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying were with him.

"When did you go into the basement?"

"Before you," Shen Ye said, "I was originally a spy planted by Dark Abyss in that instance. I had already been inside for two days before you entered the manor. But I didn't plan to make a move in that instance—too many variables, the success rate wasn't high enough. So I withdrew early and will wait for the next instance."