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

Zhou Lang didn't reply. He opened the system shop and used his remaining 400 points to exchange for an item—[Scent Bottle (Mint)]. The description read: After release, it can mask the scent of living people in a small area for 30 minutes.

It's not very useful, but it's better than nothing.

He checked his belongings again. The oil lamp was still there, the one he'd brought from the last dungeon. The chainsaw was dead, just a piece of scrap metal. The scissors still worked. Add to that the bottle of mint-scented medicine, and that was all his equipment.

Poor, fucking poor.

Zhou Lang lay on the bed with his eyes closed, pretending to sleep, waiting for the dungeon to start.

-

The feeling of being teleported is different from before.

In the past, when entering a dungeon, there would be a brief white light transition, like taking a high-speed elevator. But this time, he felt a strong sense of falling, with the sound of wind all around him, as if he had been kicked down from a great height.

He stumbled a couple of steps when he landed, almost falling into the bushes next to him.

After regaining my footing, I looked around.

lake.

It was a large lake, its surface hazy and gray, obscuring the opposite shore. Reeds grew along the shore, and beyond them stood a three-story wooden inn. Just as the spying eyes had seen, it looked quite respectable during the day. Red lanterns hung at the entrance, several potted plants adorned the steps, and the words "Welcome" were pasted on the door.

The lantern's shape was a bit odd, though. It wasn't a typical round lantern, but an oval one, with patterns on the surface...

Zhou Lang glanced at it a few more times, but didn't rush to conclusions.

"Were you also assigned to this instance?"

The voice came from the left. Zhou Lang turned his head and saw a man in his early thirties walking towards him. He had a buzz cut, wore a short-sleeved shirt, and had clearly defined muscles in his arms; he walked with a brisk pace.

Players who are "big brother" type players are obviously those who rely on their combat strength.

"How many times has this happened?" Zhou Lang asked.

"The fourth time. And you?"

"This is the fourth time."

The man with the buzz cut glanced at him. Zhou Lang was rather thin and didn't look like someone who could fight. The buzz-cut man's expression flickered for a moment, but he quickly returned to normal and extended his hand: "Just call me Brother Liu."

Zhou Lang shook hands with him: "Lang Li Ge Lang."

Brother Liu's lips twitched: "...Fine."

As they walked toward the inn, several more people appeared.

The first one was a tall woman with exquisite makeup, wearing an off-the-shoulder dress, which made her stand out in this desolate place. She glanced around at everyone present, her gaze lingering on Brother Liu for a second longer.

"A mature and sophisticated woman," Zhou Lang mentally labeled her.

The second one was a girl with a ponytail, who looked to be in her early twenties. She had big eyes, stood there with her shoulders hunched, and looked bewildered and scared.

"This is my second time entering a dungeon... I almost didn't make it out last time," the girl said softly, her voice trembling.

The older woman immediately went over and took her hand: "Don't be afraid, just follow us."

The girl nodded gratefully, giving a shy smile.

Zhou Lang didn't speak, but he paid closer attention to the girl with the ponytail. He couldn't explain why, it was just a gut feeling—her hunching over was too natural, so natural it looked like she'd rehearsed it.

The third one to appear was Han Yingying.

Zhou Lang was stunned for a moment.

Han Yingying clearly didn't expect to run into him here, and the two stared at each other for a few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" Han Yingying asked first.

"They're here for tourism."

"..."

Han Yingying walked over to him and lowered her voice: "Did you know that the death rate in this dungeon is almost 90%?"

"Know."

"Then why did you come?"

"You came too?"

Han Yingying was taken aback and turned her face away without saying a word. But she didn't move from her position, standing just half a step to Zhou Lang's left.

Zhou Lang noticed that she had changed her attire; a dagger was tucked into her waistband, and she wore a string of beads on her wrist that she couldn't decipher. She had improved since their first meeting.

The last to arrive was a boy in a school uniform, about sixteen or seventeen years old, tall and thin, with bangs covering half his face. He appeared a bit far away, walking from the reeds, his shoes covered in lake mud.

"How did you get here from over there?" Brother Liu asked.

The boy brushed his bangs aside: "When I woke up, I was by the lake and almost fell in."

Six people, all here.

The system panel pops up in front of everyone—

[Instance: Giant's Inn]

[Difficulty: S]

[Mission: Survive in the inn for three days and uncover its secrets]

[Hint: Day and night are not the same world]

[Note: There is no safe period in this instance.]

The last line of red text changed the expressions of everyone present.

There is no safe period.

In previous instances, at least during the day, players were safe, able to investigate clues and rest their stamina before facing the eerie elements at night. But this instance has completely eliminated the safe period, meaning that from the very first second you enter, you could encounter danger at any time.

"No safe period?" Brother Liu frowned. "No wonder the mortality rate is so high."

The mature woman bit her lip, her gaze sweeping over the group of people.

The girl with the ponytail gripped the older woman's arm tightly, her eyes reddening.

The boy in the school uniform stared blankly at his system panel.

Han Yingying moved closer to Zhou Lang.

"Let's go inside first." Zhou Lang strode towards the inn. "Standing outside won't make it any safer."

Pushing open the inn's door, a damp, musty smell hit me. The lobby wasn't large, furnished with a few old-fashioned wooden tables and chairs, and room keys hung on a key rack behind the counter. A yellowed price list was pasted on the wall—single rooms were 30 yuan per night, and double rooms were 50 yuan per night.

There was no one behind the counter.

"Boss?" Brother Liu called out.

No one answered.

"Is anyone there?" he called out again, his voice echoing in the empty hall.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs.

A middle-aged man, around forty years old, slightly overweight, wearing a plaid shirt, came down from the second floor with a businesslike smile on his face.

"Guests are here? Welcome, welcome. I'm the owner here, my surname is Feng."

During the day, it takes on human form. Zhou Lang remembered this.

Boss Feng enthusiastically assigned rooms to everyone. There were two rooms on the first floor, three on the second floor, and one on the third floor. Zhou Lang was assigned the innermost room on the second floor, with Han Yingying next to him, and Brother Liu on the first floor. The mature woman and the girl with the ponytail were assigned to another double room on the second floor, while the boy in the school uniform was on the third floor.

"Dinner starts at six o'clock in the restaurant on the first floor," said Boss Feng, his gaze sweeping over everyone's faces. "Oh, and there's a storage room at the back of the inn; it's full of stuff, so don't rummage through it. Also, don't go to the lake at night."

"Why?" Brother Liu asked.

Boss Feng's smile remained unchanged: "There are aquatic plants in the lake; it would be troublesome if they got tangled in your feet."

Zhou Lang entered the room and closed the door.

The room wasn't big; it contained a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. The window faced the lake. He walked to the window and looked down; the lake was as calm as a mirror, and he couldn't see anything beneath its surface.

He began to inspect the room.

The area under the bed was clean, and two old pieces of clothing—one for a man and one for a woman—were hanging in the wardrobe. There was a notebook in the desk drawer; when opened, most pages were blank, with only a few pages containing writing.