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

"There was something in the pipe. When I looked out the window, there was a white cloth hanging at the corner of the pipe with words written on it."

"What character?"

"Don't come up."

Zhou Lang was silent for a second, then climbed out the window.

Han Yingying stood by the window, watching his figure climb up the fire hydrant. The hydrant was made of iron and had been in disrepair for many years; some parts were severely rusted, and it creaked when stepped on.

He glanced down as he climbed over the white cloth. The handwriting was messy, written in red ink—or at least he hoped it was ink.

Beyond the corner of the pipes is the exterior wall on the east side of the third floor. There are three windows here, all boarded up from the inside. However, there is a crack in the board on the far left window, allowing a glimpse of the inside from the outside.

Zhou Lang lay on the pipe, peering into the crack.

Inside was a small room, more like a laboratory than a hospital ward. The walls were covered with various data charts, and in the center stood an operating table with dark stains on its surface. Next to the operating table was a row of metal shelves, holding glass jars of various sizes.

Organs are preserved in glass jars.

Heart, liver, kidneys, and other things he couldn't recognize were suspended in a yellow liquid. Several jars had labels; he could barely make out the closest one—

"LRYZ-037 Heart Transplant Sample Donor: Zhang Hai"

Zhang Hai.

The patient who disappeared last night.

Zhou Lang's gaze continued to sweep deeper into the room. In the corner was a table piled with documents. He couldn't make out the covers of the documents, but he could recognize the words "Chongren Medical Research Institute" and a signature—"Chen Zhiyuan".

The evidence is right here.

But he couldn't get in. The planks were nailed in too tightly; forcibly removing them would make too much noise and trigger the rules. And—he only noticed it now—there was a huge red rune drawn on the floor of the room. Only a small part of it was visible from the angle of the crack, but the twisted lines stung his eyes.

A bizarre formation.

This is not just a laboratory. It is the core that keeps the entire hospital's bizarre system running.

Zhou Lang memorized the room's layout and retraced his steps. As he climbed back through the second-floor window, Han Yingying reached out and pulled him back.

"What did you see?"

Zhou Lang recounted everything he had seen. When he mentioned the organs in the glass jar, Han Yingying's lips tightened into a thin line.

"Zhang Hai was taken there last night...he's here now—"

"I don't know. But his heart is already in the jar."

Han Yingying didn't say anything and turned away.

Zhou Lang stared at her back for two seconds before saying, "The core of this instance isn't escaping, but completely revealing the truth and destroying that laboratory. The Dean—that S-rank anomaly—his goal is the same as ours: to stop the experiments. If we can reach him when he regains his senses, we can make him our ally—"

"How do we make contact?" Han Yingying turned around.

"The note said the morgue is a safe area in the early morning. The morgue is where the dead stay. Where is a murdered warden most likely to go when he regains consciousness?"

"...the morgue."

"I'm going to the morgue at midnight tonight."

Are you alone?

"The rules say you can't take the elevator alone at night, but they don't say you can't take the stairs. Besides, the morgue is on the basement floor, so I can just go down through the fire escape."

Han Yingying opened her mouth, as if to say something, but in the end she only said four words: "I'll go with you."

Zhou Lang wanted to refuse, but changed his mind after seeing her expression. It wasn't a defiant expression, but a quiet kind of persistence.

"Okay, but on one condition."

"What are the conditions?"

"If things go wrong, you run first, don't worry about me."

"These conditions—"

"Should I say yes or no?"

Han Yingying paused for two seconds: "I agree. But I'm not sure I can do it."

These words were spoken so frankly that Zhou Lang couldn't say anything more.

The afternoon passed quickly. Zhao Minzhi learned an important piece of news from the obstetrics and gynecology department—five years ago, when the hospital changed its name, a group of nurses resigned en masse, all citing "personal reasons." However, Zhao Minzhi found an unmailed letter at the bottom of the obstetrics and gynecology department's filing cabinet, written by one of the nurses.

The letter was very short:

"I can't stay here any longer. I saw the experiments on the east side of the third floor. They weren't treating patients; they were creating monsters. The dean found out, had a fight with Chen Zhiyuan, and the next day the dean went on a 'business trip.' I don't believe it. I'm resigning, I'm calling the police—"

The letter ends here.

"What happened to that nurse later?" Zhou Lang asked.

"I don't know. The people in the obstetrics and gynecology department had strange expressions when they mentioned her." Zhao Minzhi lowered her voice. "The cook in the cafeteria—the fat guy—said to me, 'Don't investigate anymore, too many investigations won't be good for you.' Then he left."

"Did the chef know the inside story?"

"He's worked here for ten years."

Another clue. But is the chef an NPC or something supernatural? He's a normal person outside of the supernatural events; how much can we trust him?

At five o'clock in the afternoon, Zhou Lang bumped into the gold-rimmed glasses as he passed through the lobby.

The VIP player was leaning back on the sofa playing on his phone—can a flip phone in a dungeon really play games? Zhou Lang glanced at him and noticed he was looking at a file.

"Hi." Zhou Lang walked over.

The woman with the gold-rimmed glasses looked up and sized him up: "Intern? What's up?"

"What is your identity?"

"VIP patient. Accidental fracture, hospitalized for observation." The man with the gold-rimmed glasses adjusted his glasses. "Why are you asking this?"

"In the game's lore, you're the investor's son, right?"

The finger holding the gold-rimmed glasses stopped.

"You know quite a lot." He closed his phone. "Yes, my background is that of the son of a wealthy businessman named Zhou Chenghai. But I don't know him well—this is an identity given to me by the game, not my real father."

"Your dad—Zhou Chenghai—has become an S-rank weirdo in this instance."

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses finally changed his expression.

"...What?"

"you do not know?"

"My note didn't say any of that! It only said I was a VIP patient, enjoying the highest level of treatment, and that leaving the hospital in five days would be considered a success!"

Zhou Lang stared at him for three seconds. The man didn't seem to be lying—his fingers began to tremble.

"What's your name?"

Fang Yuanzheng.

"Fang Yuanzheng, your conditions for passing this level are different from ours. We need to uncover the truth and submit evidence, while you only survived until the fifth day. What does that mean?"

Fang Yuanzheng did not answer.

"This means you have a special role in this instance. Your VIP status ensures that all medical personnel—including the supernatural beings—will not harm you unintentionally. But conversely, if you do something out of line..."

Zhou Lang didn't finish speaking, letting him think about it himself.

Fang Yuanzheng thought for a long time, his expression growing increasingly grim: "You mean, my dad... that S-rank weirdo... might come looking for me?"