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

As soon as it was light, all the strange phenomena disappeared completely.

When sunlight streams through the windows, this inn looks like an ordinary rural guesthouse, even quite cozy.

Day 1 passed safely.

The three met in the lobby at eight o'clock the next morning.

Zhao Qiang's eyes were dark, clearly he hadn't slept well all night. Han Yingying was in slightly better condition, but not by much.

On the contrary, Zhou Lang seemed completely unaffected.

"You fell asleep last night?" Zhao Qiang asked incredulously.

"There was no movement after 3 o'clock. I slept for four hours."

"Are you even human? How can you sleep with that thing floating around outside the door?"

"It can't get in." Zhou Lang sat down, and the proprietress brought over three bowls of white porridge and pickled vegetables. He picked up his chopsticks. "Check this building inside and out during the day. Zhao Qiang will check the first floor and the backyard, Han Yingying will check the empty rooms on the second floor, and I'll check the surrounding environment."

"Why am I checking the backyard?" Zhao Qiang protested.

"Because there's a dog in the backyard."

"...What does a dog have to do with an investigation?"

"You're afraid of ghosts but not dogs. Having a dog around will make you braver."

Zhao Qiang opened his mouth, but surprisingly found it made sense, and angrily gulped down the porridge in one go.

Han Yingying smiled, but quickly stopped.

-

Zhou Lang left the inn and walked along the dirt road toward the back mountain.

The trees on the back hill were dense, and the ground was covered with soft fallen leaves, making almost no sound when he stepped on them. After walking for about ten minutes, he saw a lake.

The lake wasn't large, and the water was a deep green, abnormally calm.

There was no wind, no chirping of insects, and no calls of birds. The entire back mountain was deathly silent; not even the leaves on the trees rustled.

Zhou Lang squatted down by the lake and looked at the water.

There's something underwater.

It's not a fish.

It was a blurry white shadow, floating about two meters underwater. It was shaped like a human, but not quite—it was too big, with disproportionate limbs, a wide and long torso, and hair that spread out like seaweed.

The giant at the bottom of the lake.

Zhou Lang stared at the shadow for more than ten seconds, but the shadow did not move.

He stood up and walked around the lake. On the north side of the lake, there was a small bamboo grove, behind which was a low cement wall, quite old and covered with moss.

There was a small hole in the low wall, just big enough for a hand to fit through. Zhou Lang crouched down and looked into the hole—it was dark, he couldn't see anything, but a breeze was blowing out, carrying a musty smell and other indescribable odors.

Instead of reaching in rashly, he picked up a twig nearby and poked it into the hole to stir it around.

The branch touched something soft.

When I pulled it out, it was a piece of cloth. To be precise, it was a corner of a garment, with a small floral pattern, the kind of fabric that old-fashioned women would wear.

Cement residue was stuck to the edge of the cloth.

Zhou Lang put the cloth into his pocket and walked back.

As he passed the back door of the inn on his way, he saw the owner counting money inside through the window. Stacks of cash were piled high. The owner smiled as he counted the money, a smile different from the one he wore when entertaining guests—it was more genuine.

This laugh made Zhou Lang uncomfortable.

When he went around to the front door, he ran into Xiao Chen.

Xiao Chen was mopping the second-floor corridor when he saw him, so he stopped and moved aside quite a bit.

"Xiao Chen," Zhou called out to her.

She looked up, somewhat surprised and a little nervous.

"How long have you been working here?"

"It's been almost half a year."

"How's your income?"

"Food and lodging included, two thousand a month." Xiao Chen said in a low voice, his hand gripping the mop tightly.

"It's alright," Zhou Lang said politely, and didn't ask any further questions. But he noticed a faint red mark around Xiao Chen's wrist, as if something had strangled him.

It wasn't just once; it was left from being tied up many times.

When he returned to room 201, Han Yingying was already waiting inside.

"204 and 205 belong to that couple. 206 is locked and can't be opened." Han Yingying spread her notebook on the table. "I secretly peeked into room 204, and there was a notebook in the bedside table drawer."

She handed the notebook over.

It was a small notepad, about the size of a palm, filled with writing. The handwriting was messy, as if it had been jotted down in a hurry.

Page 6: "June 3rd. Arrived in this godforsaken place, no cell phone signal. Song Tiantian said the scenery was nice, so we'd stay a few days. Okay."

Page 6: "June 5th. I heard noises in the hallway that night, and thought it was that skinny woman next door. I went out to check, but there was no one there."

Page 6: "June 6th. Something's wrong. This afternoon I saw the boss digging a hole in the backyard, a really deep one. He stopped when he saw me. There were noises again tonight, this time coming from down below."

The handwriting on the sixth page suddenly changed, becoming crooked and shaky, as if the writer was trembling.

"There's no escape. The door won't open. The window won't open. Song Tiantian keeps crying. That thing reached in through the crack in the door—a hand—"

That's where it ends.

The remaining pages are all blank.

Han Yingying's expression was not good: "This was written by Li Yi."

"Um."

"They're dead, right? Those two we saw during the day...they weren't human."

"It should be." Zhou Lang flipped the notepad back to the first page. "Check-in on June 3rd. Today is the first day inside the instance. The corresponding timeline is unclear, but this diary at least proves one thing—they experienced what we are about to experience."

He put the notepad away.

"Any other discoveries?"

Han Yingying hesitated for a moment: "There is one. There's a patch of fresh cement on the wall at the end of the stairs on the second floor. It's a different color from the surrounding cement. I tapped it twice, and it's hollow."

Zhou Lang's eyes lit up.

Zhao Qiang ran up at this moment, his trousers covered in mud.

"There's a vegetable garden in the backyard, and behind the garden is an old shed filled with junk. But I found something at the very bottom—"

He took out a picture frame.

The photo frame contains a family portrait. The proprietress and her husband are standing in front of the inn, with the proprietress holding a baby girl in her arms.

All three people are smiling, but the photo is yellowed and the edges are curled up, indicating it's at least a decade old.

"They have children," Zhao Qiang said, "but we didn't see any children from beginning to end."

Zhou Lang turned the photo frame over. On the back was a line of text, written with a ballpoint pen, with such force that it almost punctured the cardboard.

"Give me back my daughter."

Three words. Crooked and distorted.

The handwriting is different from Li Yi's diary. This was written by someone else.

Boss lady?

Zhou Lang went through all the clues in his mind: the boss, the boss's wife, the baby girl in the photo, the missing child, the bruise on the boss's wife's hand, the huge shadow at the bottom of the lake, and the floral fabric behind the cement wall.

A hidden storyline is emerging, but a few crucial pieces of the puzzle are still missing.

"We still have time during the day, so we'll continue the investigation this afternoon. The focus is on that wall that's been patched with cement—"

There was a knock on the door.

All three of them looked towards the doorway at the same time.

Are you there?

It was Xiao Chen's voice, even softer and quieter than in the morning.