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

The stairs led to the end, but there was no basement as expected. The texture underfoot changed from hard cement to rotten wooden planks. The crackling sound of breaking wood fibers echoed in the enclosed space. Zhou Lang carried an oil lamp, its green glow pushing forward and illuminating the lobby of a dilapidated inn.

The air was thick with the smell of green mold and burnt protein. This was the truth behind the butler's warning not to leave the room—behind the door was not a manor, but a hunting ground in another dimension.

Four people stood in the center of the lobby. Two men and two women, dressed in modern clothes, stood out starkly against the old wooden structure of the inn. Hearing the noise coming from the stairs, all four turned their heads at the same time.

"A newbie?" A burly man with a buzz cut strode over. His name was Wang Tie; his arm muscles were prominently bulging, and his knuckles were covered in calluses. He was a trained fighter.

"Doesn't seem like it." A woman in a tight red dress next to them exhaled a smoke ring. Xu Jiao, codenamed "Mature Woman," glanced at the chainsaw and oil lamp in Zhou Lang's hands, finally settling on Zhao Qiang, and gave him a flirtatious wink.

Zhao Qiang shrank back behind Zhou Lang, gripping the backpack straps tightly with both hands. Han Yingying tightened her grip on the baton, standing at the same level as Zhou Lang to block Xu Jiao's view.

The other two were Lin Xiaoxiao, a girl in a JK uniform, who was trembling with her arms crossed; and Li Ming, a high school student in a school uniform, who was standing in a corner with his head down and his bangs covering most of his face.

"No matter how you got in, now listen to my orders." Wang Tie walked up to Zhou Lang, looking down at him. "I've been through three dungeons and upgraded my combat power twice. There's no safe period at the start of the game here; you have to stick together to survive."

Zhou Lang ignored Wang Tie's offer of help. He raised the oil lamp and pointed the light at the top of the counter.

A lantern hung there. The lampshade wasn't paper, but a layer of translucent leather, its surface bearing the remnants of fine pores and dried, dark red blood vessels. Inside, a ghostly blue flame burned, and in the firelight, the leather surface vaguely revealed the contorted face of a woman in agony.

"The outer layer of this lantern wasn't peeled off completely," Zhou Lang commented, pointing to the ceiling. "There are jagged tears along the neck edge, indicating the assailant used a blunt instrument or tore it off by hand. The preservation treatment was poor; the fat layer wasn't completely scraped off, resulting in extremely low light transmittance. Thumbs down."

A few seconds of silence fell over the lobby. Wang Tie frowned, and Xu Jiao's hand, holding a cigarette, froze in mid-air. Lin Xiaoxiao stopped trembling and stared wide-eyed at the madman who was examining human skin with a chainsaw.

"Are you out of your mind?" Wang Tie lowered his voice, his tone carrying a warning.

"He's analyzing the clues," Han Yingying interjected, tapping a wooden pillar beside her with her baton. "This is an inn; there are lanterns and a counter. The owner should be behind the counter."

As soon as the words were spoken, a sticky, rubbing sound came from the shadows behind the counter. A portly man squeezed out of the darkness. He wore a greasy apron and had a stiff smile plastered on his face. He was alive, but there was a deep ligature mark on his neck, the skin and flesh turned outwards, and you could even see the white cartilage of his trachea.

"Gentlemen, would you like a meal or a room?" The innkeeper's voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

"I need a room. Three rooms." Wang Tie spoke first, taking a few coins out of his pocket and slapping them on the counter.

The shopkeeper didn't reach for the coins; instead, he stared intently at Wang Tie's wrist. There was a mechanical watch there, its second hand ticking.

"This shop doesn't accept vulgar items." The shopkeeper grinned, revealing a mouthful of black and yellow teeth. "We accept lives, or we accept grievances."

Zhou Lang stepped forward and slammed the butler's salary onto the table. The five hundred coins, imbued with an eerie aura, struck the wooden board with a crisp metallic clang.

The shopkeeper's eyes darted around, greedily eyeing the coins. His withered fingers swept the coins into the drawer with lightning speed, then tossed out three rusty brass keys.

"Second floor, Heaven, Earth, and Human. Don't go out at night, don't look out the window, and don't pay attention to knocking." After reciting the rules, the boss slowly backed away, disappearing back into the darkness.

"Where did the money come from?" Wang Tie blocked Zhou Lang's path, staring at his empty hand.

"I earned it by working," Zhou Lang said truthfully.

"Hand over the rest, we'll distribute them uniformly." Wang Tie held out his hand. "I'm the team leader, resources must be centralized. You three newcomers, don't be ignorant of the rules."

Zhou Lang looked at the calloused hand. He didn't speak, but instead pulled the start cord of the chainsaw.

The engine roared piercingly, the chain spun rapidly, sending up a whiff of oily fumes. The saw teeth were less than three centimeters from Wang Tie's palm.

"Try snatching it." Zhou Lang's tone was very calm, as if he were discussing today's weather.

Wang Tie withdrew his hand, took a half step back, and his face turned ashen. He had enhanced his martial arts skills, but his body couldn't withstand the cutting power of an industrial chainsaw.

"Fine, you're asking for it, don't drag us down with you." Wang Tie turned around, took the key to the top-tier room, and said, "Xu Jiao, Lin Xiaoxiao, Li Ming, let's go."

Li Ming kept his head down, dragging his feet as he followed behind Wang Tie. As they passed Zhou Lang, Zhou Lang smelled an extremely strong stench of formaldehyde mixed with sewer odor.

"That high school student's heart stopped beating," Zhou Lang said to Han Yingying and Zhao Qiang as he turned off the chainsaw.

"What?" Zhao Qiang didn't react.

"A normal person's heart rate exceeds 120 when they're scared. He had no heartbeat and no breathing." Zhou Lang picked up the key to the Earth-class building. "We've already got a dead man in the game right from the start. This inn is definitely much more difficult than the manor."

The three of them went up the wooden stairs to the second floor. Yellowed photo frames hung on both sides of the corridor, the photos all showing blurry figures. When they reached the door of room number 1, Zhou Lang pushed it open.

The room was simply furnished: a canopy bed, a round table, and a wooden wardrobe. Newspapers were pasted on the walls, with dates from twenty years ago.

"What are our plans for tonight?" Han Yingying checked the window latches to make sure they were locked.

"Wait." Zhou Lang placed the oil lamp on the table. "The innkeeper said not to go out at night. The logic of rule-based supernatural tales is usually that as long as you don't break the rules, you won't trigger the death condition. But there's no safe period here. This means that danger will come knocking on your door."

The clock on the wall points to midnight.

The moment the second hand crossed the number twelve, the temperature in the room plummeted. The flame of the oil lamp on the table turned from a pale blue to a ghastly green.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. It wasn't the rhythm of human footsteps, but the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. Accompanied by the patter of dripping water, the object stopped outside the door of unit number 1.

"Knock, knock, knock."

A knock came at the door.

"Sir, would you like some hot water?" A woman's voice came from outside the door, hollow and ethereal, carrying a heavy mist.

Zhao Qiang covered his mouth to keep himself from making a sound. Han Yingying gripped her baton tightly and pressed herself against the wall.