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

"New here?" the man in the windbreaker asked.

Han Yingying nodded.

"How many times have you entered the dungeon?"

This question made her hesitate. She vaguely remembered entering a dungeon... but the details were all blurry. The amnesia had even erased most of her dungeon memories.

She only had two choices: admit she was a newcomer, or tell a lie.

Being a newcomer meant being a burden, having no say in the team, and being pushed out as cannon fodder. She didn't know where she got this knowledge from, but she just knew it. Perhaps it was a remnant of instinct from before her amnesia.

"Grade C, it's been cleaned once," Han Yingying said.

The moment the words left her mouth, a line of text appeared in her field of vision:

[Hidden skill triggered: The Deceiver.]

[Skill Effect: Lies have high credibility and can deceive most NPCs and low-level monsters. Also grants "Cleared C-Rank Dungeon" achievement.]

[Note: The effect diminishes with higher-level anomalies and special NPCs.]

Han Yingying blinked.

What the heck? You've developed a lying skill?

The man in the windbreaker's attitude had clearly changed. "Rank C? Not bad, I'm Rank C too." He held out his hand. "Zhang Chuang, physical enhancement type."

Han Yingying squeezed her hand. "Han Yingying, um... intelligence-related." Since we've already started making things up, let's go all the way.

Others also came over and gave brief self-introductions.

The tall, bespectacled man was named Shen Mo. He didn't talk much, only mentioning his name and that this was his third time entering the dungeon. The short, round-faced man was called Xiao Pang—his real name was Chen Hao, but he insisted that everyone call him Xiao Pang because "his real name is too hard to remember."

The mature woman, named Lin Ke, spoke with a lazy, languid smile—no, that's exactly it. She glanced around at everyone present. "What level are you all?"

"I'm a D-grade," the chubby boy answered honestly, "my first time."

A tall, thin boy in a plaid shirt walked over. "Zhou Lang, Grade C."

Han Yingying turned to look at him.

He was an ordinary young man. No, "ordinary" wouldn't be accurate; his features were fairly regular, but his clothes and demeanor were very casual. His hair was a bit messy, like he had just woken up. When he gave his name, his tone was flat, more like he was filling out a form than socializing.

"C-rank, huh? That means we have three C-ranks in our team now." Zhang Chuang rubbed his hands together. "We're in luck."

The old man didn't introduce himself. He stood at the farthest point, leaning on his cane, occasionally coughing. When Little Fatty went over and asked him his name, he mumbled "Old Li," but wouldn't say anything more when asked.

It was almost time, and the roar of engines could be heard from the distant fog.

A bus emerged from the fog.

The car body was dark red, with peeling paint, and the windows were covered with a layer of dust. The door creaked open, and the dim light inside illuminated the driver in the driver's seat—a man in a blue uniform with a grayish face and eyes that didn't move, like two glass balls embedded in their sockets.

A notice was posted above the car door:

【Passenger Information】

1. Each passenger must pay one Mysterious Coin to board the bus.

2. Those without currency are not allowed to board the train.

3. One person, one seat; standing is not permitted.

4. Do not get out of the vehicle while it is in motion.

5. Do not touch any passengers already on the vehicle.

Zhang Chuang was the first to go up, took a black coin from his pocket, and slapped it onto the coin box. With a clink, the coin fell into the box.

"Please take a seat." The driver's voice sounded like it came from a tape recorder, without any inflection.

Shen Mo and Xiao Pang boarded the bus and put in their coins one after the other. When Lin Ke reached the door, she felt in her pocket, took out some coins, and put them in.

It was Han Yingying's turn.

She searched all her pockets.

No. Nothing at all. The phone and water bottle I had with me in the real world have disappeared; all I have are the clothes I was wearing when I teleported here.

Zhou Lang and Lao Li were still waiting behind them.

Han Yingying stood in front of the coin box, her mind racing.

[The Fraudster].

She reached into her pocket, made a retrieval motion, pinched air between her fingers, placed it into the coin slot, and casually said, "I've inserted it."

Ding.

The coin box actually beeped. The crisp metallic sound was exactly the same as when the previous people inserted coins.

"Please take a seat." The driver's glass eyes didn't even blink.

Han Yingying strode into the carriage, found an empty seat by the window, and sat down, her back covered in sweat.

It works. This stupid skill actually works.

There were twelve rows of seats in the carriage, two on each side. The first few rows were already occupied by the "original passengers"—four or five drab, grayish figures dressed in clothes from different eras, all with a common feature being a gray film covering their faces. They were motionless, without any rise or fall of their breath, like a row of wax figures.

All the active players chose seats in the back half of the hall.

Zhou Lang boarded, inserted his coin, and sat down in the row behind Han Yingying. Old Li was the last to board. He took out his coins slowly, inserted them, and stood in the aisle for a while, counting the empty seats.

That's where the problem lies.

There were only two empty seats left. One was in front of Lao Li, and the other was in the third row, sandwiched between two existing passengers.

Old Li sat down in front of him.

There are no extra seats.

But the car door wasn't closed.

Shen Mo frowned. "Why didn't you close the door?"

Before the words were even finished, another pair of feet appeared on the steps at the door.

A person emerged from the fog, or rather—walked in.

He looked like a gamer too. Early twenties, wearing a tracksuit, short hair, and chewing on something. He tossed a coin into the coin box, looked up, and saw there were no empty seats in the carriage.

"What's going on? There are no seats left?"

The third rule of the notice: One person, one seat; standing is not permitted.

Without a seat, you can't take the bus. Without a bus, you're stuck in this gray, desolate wilderness. What being stuck in the wilderness means, nobody knows, but it's probably not a good thing.

The man in the tracksuit clicked his tongue, his gaze settling on the empty seat in the third row, sandwiched between the strange passengers. Without a word, he walked over and plopped down.

The strange passengers on both sides slowly turned their heads to look at him. Their facial features and expressions were not visible under the gray film, but the angle and speed at which they turned their heads were quite eerie.

The man in the tracksuit hunched his shoulders, looking uncomfortable, but didn't stand up.

The car door closed.

The bus started moving.

After about ten minutes of travel, everything was fine. The carriage was very quiet; no one spoke, and the "passengers" didn't move either. The scenery outside the window changed from a gray wasteland to a sparse forest, with bare tree trunks and no leaves.

Then Lin Ke and Shen Mo ran into some trouble.

The reason was simple—Lin Ke was sitting in an aisle seat, and Shen Mo was sitting behind her. Shen Mo's legs were so long that his knees touched the back of Lin Ke's chair. Lin Ke turned around and glanced at him.

"Could we move it to the back?"

"There's nowhere to move it." Shen Mo's answer was direct.

"Then don't block my chair."

"The seat is only so big, what am I supposed to do? Amputate my leg?"

Lin Ke narrowed her eyes.

The conversation could have ended there, but the carriage suddenly jolted, and Shen Mo's knee slammed into Lin Ke's seat back. Lin Ke bumped into the handrail in front of her and her shoulder bruised.