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

It didn't finish speaking, it just smiled. The cracks on the porcelain surface extended to both sides, from the corner of its mouth all the way to its ears.

Twelve players, plus six unseen ghosts. One table. Heaven knows how many dishes are served.

Han Yingying, Fang Ming, and Lu Shan exchanged glances, and Fang Ming nodded slightly—let's get through the first course first.

Zhao Qiang raised his hand: "Excuse me, does going to the toilet count as getting up?"

The entire room fell silent for half a second.

The host stared at Zhao Qiang for several seconds, the cracked porcelain slowly closing up: "One should wash one's hands before attending a banquet. If one has not washed one's hands..."

It tilted its head.

"That means Mr. Zhao Qiang is lacking in manners."

Zhao Qiang's name has never been mentioned by him.

The atmosphere at the table fell silent. Among the silent players, a man in a black windbreaker kept staring at Zhou Lang. Han Yingying noticed, but didn't say anything.

The first dish has been served.

The tray was carried by a paper figure, covered with a red lid. The paper figure walked to the table, which had eighteen seats—twelve of which were occupied and six were empty—and placed a plate in front of each seat.

Han Yingying opened the lid.

The dish contained a cicada pupa, deep-fried to a golden brown, emitting the aroma of ordinary food.

She glanced at Zhou Lang. Zhou Lang had already eaten.

"The taste is alright," Zhou Lang said. "It's better than the cafeteria."

Zhao Qiang hesitated for three seconds, holding his chopsticks, then picked up a cicada pupa and swallowed it in one gulp. His expression was pained, but he swallowed it.

Two players on the other side refused to eat.

The crack on the porcelain surface of the owner has opened up again.

"Since you two distinguished guests are not going to do me the honor, then this old man has no choice but to—"

Two paper figures appeared behind the two players at some point, each holding a plate of cicada pupae.

"I did it for you."

The paper figure's fingers pried open one player's mouth and poured the entire plate of cicada pupae into it. Another player, seeing this, picked them up and ate them.

The first dish was served.

Han Yingying scanned the entire table—the man in the black windbreaker was looking at her. His purpose was unclear, but it was definitely not friendly.

Before the second dish was served, Zhou Lang whispered to her, "At three o'clock, the one in black, is the one with the blood pact."

Han Yingying raised an eyebrow: "How did you recognize me?"

"He had a crest tucked into his sleeve, a red background with a black blade, the emblem of the Blood Pact Guild. I saw it in the third dungeon."

Fang Ming clenched his fists under the table.

When the red lid of the second dish was lifted, a small eyeball was revealed on the plate. It was still moving.

Zhao Qiang put down his chopsticks.

The eyeball was submerged in the dark brown broth, and the pupil was still contracting.

Zhao Qiang turned his face away, making a dry heaving sound. Han Yingying poked it with her chopsticks—it felt like jelly, not a real eyeball. But the pupil was definitely staring at her.

Zhou Lang had finished eating and commented, "It's plum flavored."

Zhao Qiang almost slipped off the chair.

Han Yingying swallowed it in one gulp. The sweet and sour taste definitely indicated it was some kind of jelly. The psychological barrier was far greater than the physical obstacle.

Of the twelve players at the table, three hesitated. The host's porcelain face tilted to the side, the cracks widening to their maximum extent.

"Three distinguished guests—"

The three of them quickly ate.

The paper figure took away the plates. During the brief pause, the atmosphere at the table was tense. Taking advantage of this break, Han Yingying pulled Fang Ming and Lu Shan together, and the six of them squeezed into one end of the table, exchanging information in hushed tones.

"The Blood Pact guy's name is Qin Lie," Fang Ming said. "I've heard of that name before. He's the action captain of the Blood Pact guild and a regular in S-rank dungeons. He wasn't matched in; he chose to be in."

"Who did you come from?" Han Yingying asked.

"It's aimed at you, and it's aimed at us. Anyone who refuses to join is on his list."

Lu Shan scrolled through the system panel on her wrist and showed everyone a message:

[S-Rank Dungeon - Hundred Ghosts Banquet: All members must survive until the banquet ends, or the master must be satisfied.]

"There are two conditions for passing the level," Lu Shan said. "All players must survive, and the quantifier is 'all players.' This means that if any player dies, the only way to pass is through the second condition."

"What the hell is 'master satisfied'?" Zhao Qiang asked.

"I'm not sure, but considering the setting of the banquet, it probably involves behaving properly and following all the rules."

Zhou Lang leaned back in his chair: "So if someone deliberately kills a player, the remaining players have no choice but to take the second path. And the vague condition of 'master's satisfaction' is basically equivalent to handing your life over to an NPC."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone looked at Qin Lie.

Qin Lie was drinking tea with his head down, not looking at anyone.

The third dish arrived. This time, the plate was opened to reveal five finger-shaped pastries, with red jam embedded in the fingernail-shaped sections. They were realistically made, but at least they were pastries. Zhao Qiang took a bite and breathed a sigh of relief.

When we got to the fourth course, a new rule came into play.

The owner stood up; the cracks on the porcelain surface had been repaired, and it was smooth as new again.

"After the fourth course, the banquet enters its second half. A new rule is introduced—the names of living people must not be spoken."

Han Yingying and Zhou Lang exchanged a glance.

You can't say the names of living people—this means that players can't call each other directly, can't call out names to cooperate, and communication efficiency will drop sharply in unexpected situations.

"What if you tell them?" someone asked.

The master tilted his head and looked in that direction: "Once a name is spoken, that name no longer belongs to the living person."

This is so obvious, it needs no explanation.

The fourth dish was a bowl of soup. It was black and bitter at first, but after swallowing it, it warmed the whole body. Han Yingying noticed that after drinking the soup, the "ghosts" on the six empty chairs had outlines—they could vaguely be seen as human-shaped.

They were semi-transparent, with blurred features, but each one wore the same funeral robe as its owner.

Zhao Qiang saw it; the chopsticks had fallen to the ground.

"Don't make a sound," Han Yingying whispered, "They haven't moved yet."

The second half has begun.

Before the fifth dish was served, Qin Lie made a move.

He stood up, holding his teacup, and walked to the other end of the table to a young player sitting alone. That player was clearly a novice; he had been trembling since he sat down and took twice as long to eat each dish as the others.

Qin Lie sat down next to him and whispered a few words in his ear.

Han Yingying didn't hear the specifics, but the newbie's face fell and his hands started to tremble.

Zhou Lang leaned closer: "He's saying that person's name."

"What?"

"He's forcing that newbie to call out his name. If the newbie does, he'll break the rules and die on the spot."

Han Yingying dragged her chair back a little. Fang Ming also stood up halfway.

But the rules were clearly stated—they could not harm their tablemates. They could not directly attack Qin Lie.

Zhou Lang didn't move. He was looking at the outlines of the six ghosts on the table.

"I have an idea," he said, "but it might be a little unethical."

He picked up the empty plate in front of him, stood up, and walked to the empty seat next to Qin Lie—the seat where the ghost had been sitting.

Everyone held their breath.

Zhou Lang squatted down and waved to the translucent ghostly figure on the chair.

"Hello there."