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

At the end of the stairs was a narrow corridor, the walls of which were covered with mold and the air was filled with the stench of decay.

Zhou Lang walked forward holding the oil lamp. The green light shone on the wall, revealing scratches that were deeply embedded in the wall, with some places still containing fragments of fingernails.

"These are..." Han Yingying covered her mouth.

"It was left by previous players," Zhou Lang said. "It seems we're not the only ones who wanted to come here."

The corridor wasn't long, and soon we arrived at the second door.

The door was made of iron and had no keyhole, only a small groove about the size of a palm, with intricate patterns engraved in it.

"Blood Lock." Zhou Lang remembered what the bandaged man had said, took out a pair of scissors, and made a cut on his finger.

Fresh blood dripped into the groove, but the groove did not react at all.

"No way?" Zhao Qiang asked nervously.

"I need the blood of a ghost." Zhou Lang said, and the bandage on his right hand began to wriggle, a drop of black blood seeping from the bandage and falling into the groove.

The patterns instantly lit up with a red light, and the iron gate clicked open slowly.

"Your hand..." Han Yingying stared at Zhou Lang's right hand, which was wrapped in bandages.

"We'll talk about it when we get back." Zhou Lang didn't explain, pushed open the door, and went inside.

Behind the door was a larger space, like an operating room, filled with rusty medical instruments, yellowed X-ray films hanging on the walls, and incomplete medical records scattered on the floor.

Zhou Lang picked up a medical record, which read: "Patient Name: Zhang Ming, Symptom: Delusional Disorder, Treatment Plan: Electroconvulsive Therapy."

Below is a line of smaller print: "37th treatment failed. The patient is showing violent tendencies. It is recommended that he be transferred to a special ward in the basement."

"Special ward..." Zhou Lang looked around and saw a third door at the end of the room.

The door was made of wood and looked ordinary, but Zhou Lang knew that it was the most difficult one to open.

Heart lock.

He walked to the door, took a deep breath, and placed his hand on the doorknob.

The door didn't move.

"What's wrong?" Zhao Qiang asked.

"This door requires..." Zhou Lang paused, "...only someone who truly wants to die can open it."

"What do we do then?" Han Yingying asked anxiously. "We can't really go and die, can we?"

Zhou Lang didn't speak. He closed his eyes, and his sister's face appeared in his mind.

His sister has been missing for over a month, and he entered the game specifically to find her. If she's really in there, he'd give his life for her.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, the doorknob moved.

With a click, the wooden door opened.

"You..." Han Yingying looked at Zhou Lang, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

"Let's go." Zhou Lang pushed open the door and went in first.

The sight behind the door stunned all three of them.

This is a huge underground space with a ceiling so high you can't see the top. The walls are covered with chains, and a corpse hangs from the end of each chain.

No, it's not a corpse.

Those things are still moving.

Zhou Lang raised the oil lamp and saw what those things looked like.

They were once human, but now they have been torn to pieces. Some are left with only half a body, some are missing arms and legs, and some have their entire heads ripped off, revealing empty cranial cavities.

But they are all still alive, or rather, they are not completely dead.

"Help...help me..."

A thing with only its upper body reached out to them, its voice so faint it was almost inaudible.

Han Yingying was so frightened that she took a step back, and Zhao Qiang's face turned deathly pale.

Zhou Lang approached the object and saw its face clearly.

She was a young girl, probably in her early twenties, with a lingering look of fear on her face.

"Are you a player?" Zhou Lang asked.

The girl nodded, tears streaming down her face: "Please...kill me..."

Zhou Lang was silent for a few seconds, then raised the scissors.

"Wait!" Han Yingying grabbed him. "What are you doing?"

"Give her a break," Zhou Lang said. "Living like this is worse than death."

Without hesitation, he plunged the scissors into the girl's heart.

The girl's body twitched a few times, the light in her eyes gradually disappeared, but a relieved smile appeared on her face.

"Thanks…"

Before she could finish uttering her last word, the girl breathed her last.

Zhou Lang put away the scissors and continued walking forward.

In the center of the space was a huge operating table, on which lay a human-shaped figure covered in tubes, the other ends of which were connected to the corpses hanging around it.

"Is this the owner of the basement?" Zhao Qiang swallowed.

Zhou Lang approached the operating table and saw what the thing on it looked like.

It was a monster pieced together.

Its head was that of a middle-aged man, but its body was made up of countless pieces of different flesh, some male, some female, some old, some young, and the stitching marks were shocking.

The strangest thing is that this monster is still breathing.

"It's still alive." Han Yingying's voice trembled.

Just then, the monster opened its eyes.

Those were cloudy eyes, filled with madness and pain.

"Fresh...materials..."

The monster's mouth moved, its voice hoarse as if squeezed from its throat.

"Are you the dean's favorite patient?" Zhou Lang asked.

The monster laughed, a laugh that sent chills down your spine: "I...I'm not a patient...I'm...the hospital director..."

"What?" All three of them were stunned.

"That man who killed the butler..."

"It was...that I created..." the monster said, "from...a part of me..."

Countless thoughts flashed through Zhou Lang's mind, and he quickly understood.

The monster in front of them was the real Dean, while the butler upstairs was just a part of its consciousness that had been separated.

"Why do you do this?" Zhou Lang asked.

"Because... I wanted to live..." Blood tears streamed from the monster's eyes. "That fire... I was burned too... but I didn't want to die... so I... tore myself apart... and pieced myself back together..."

"But I can't spell it well... I just can't spell it well..."

"So I need...more materials...a more perfect...body..."

As the monster spoke, the tubes connected to the corpse began to wriggle, as if they were sucking something out.

The corpses hanging around them began to shrivel, while the monster on the operating table swelled up.

"It's absorbing those corpses!" Han Yingying exclaimed.

Zhou Lang reacted quickly, pulling out a chainsaw and sawing at the pipes.

A buzzing sound rang out, the pipe was cut, and black liquid splattered out, emitting a foul stench.

The monster screamed and its body began to convulse violently.

"You...you dare...destroy my...work..."

It struggled to sit up, but its body was too bulky to move at all.

Zhou Lang did not stop and continued to cut the remaining pipes.

Once the last tube was cut, the monster's body began to disintegrate, and the pieces of flesh fell off, revealing its rotting internal organs.

"No...no...I haven't...finished yet..."

The monster's voice grew weaker and weaker until it finally fell silent completely.

Zhou Lang breathed a sigh of relief and was about to speak when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.