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

"Are any of the Blazing Flame's people among those speaking up for you?"

Han Yingying narrowed her eyes, scrolled through the comments, and then looked up at Zhou Lang: "Yes. Several."

"Classic tactic." Zhou Lang leaned back in his chair. "First, let others splash dirty water on you, then come out and help you wash it off. After you're done, you owe them a favor."

Zhao Qiang cursed, "These guys are really cunning."

"Don't worry about it," Zhou Lang said. "Just leave the post there; the more you delete it, the more people will see it. It'll sink to the bottom in a few days."

"What about the unions we've offended?"

"So be it if I've offended you." Zhou Lang stood up. "If you're strong enough, no one will dare to really make a move. If you're not strong enough, joining a guild will only make you a pawn."

It sounded crude, but after thinking about it, Zhao Qiang realized he couldn't really refute it.

A white light flashes, and the safe zone disappears.

Zhou Lang opened his eyes. The ceiling was his bedroom. The alarm clock on the bedside table showed 2:17 a.m.

came back.

He lay there for a few seconds, then rolled over and got out of bed. The living room was quiet; on the table sat the instant noodles he had bought a few days ago, still unopened.

My phone lit up; it was a message from Han Yingying.

[Han Yingying: You're back?]

[Langligelang: Hmm.]

[Han Yingying: It's also past midnight here. Have you noticed that it's been unusually quiet outside since we came back?]

Zhou Lang walked to the window and drew back the curtains.

There wasn't a soul on the street. It wasn't the kind of quiet that comes with the dead of night—the streetlights were still on, the traffic lights were still changing, but there were no cars, no people, not even a stray cat in sight.

This silence is strange.

When I last emerged from the instance, there were still signs of strange occurrences in the real world. Occasionally, I would see things that shouldn't be there in the shadows on street corners, or news reports would broadcast "abnormal weather phenomena" in a certain area—that was the official explanation for strange events.

But this time—there was nothing.

It's too clean.

[Waves: Be careful. Don't be alone these days.]

[Han Yingying: You too.]

Zhou Lang put down his phone and glanced out the window again. Light shone from a window in the building across the street, and a figure stood motionless behind the curtains.

I've been standing here for more than ten minutes.

Zhou Lang drew the curtains.

The silence lasted for nearly two weeks.

For the past two weeks, Zhou Lang's life has returned to a semblance of normalcy. He goes to school during the day—although attendance has been declining since the horror game, classes haven't stopped. The teachers continue teaching as usual, though they occasionally drift off into their own thoughts, staring blankly out the window.

Zhao Qiang sat down next to him and poked his arm with his pen: "Don't you think things have been a bit too peaceful these past few days?"

"Isn't it chaotic enough already?"

"No," Zhao Qiang lowered his voice, "Don't you find it strange? There used to be news about strange events every few days, like haunted shopping malls or unusual noises in the subway, but recently all of that has disappeared. The authorities haven't issued any announcements either."

Zhou Lang turned a page of the textbook, but didn't find the page he was supposed to turn to, so he turned back.

"The calm before the storm is always there."

Zhao Qiang shuddered: "Can't you say something nice?"

After class, Zhou Lang went to the supermarket. The shelves were much less stocked than a month ago, especially the bottled water and canned goods section, which was mostly empty. There were long lines at the checkout counters, and everyone was stocking up.

He bought several cases of water and some dry food and carried them home.

My phone vibrated.

[Han Yingying: Did you see the message in the community group?]

Zhou Lang opened WeChat and scrolled to the community's residents' group.

The latest news is a notice from the property management company: "Please try to avoid going out at night recently. In case of emergency, please call the following emergency numbers..."

The emergency number wasn't 110; it was a number he'd never seen before.

[Langligelang: I saw it.]

[Han Yingying: I checked that phone number; it's from the military.]

The military has intervened. This means the situation is far more serious than it appears on the surface. The so-called "quiet" is simply a matter of information being suppressed.

Zhou Lang also sent Zhao Qiang a message, telling him to stock up on supplies these few days and not to run around aimlessly. Zhao Qiang replied with a series of exclamation marks and a crying face.

Life went on like this.

On the night of the eleventh day, Zhou Lang had a dream.

In his dream, he stood in a pitch-black space, surrounded by nothing but the solid ground beneath his feet. In the distance, there was a figure with its back to him.

He knew that outline all too well.

"sister?"

The figure didn't turn around, but just kept walking forward, getting further and further away.

"sister!"

Zhou Lang took a step to chase after him, but no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't close the distance. The figure reached a certain point and suddenly turned around.

It's not my sister's face.

The face had no features, it was as smooth as an egg, but there was a slit where the mouth was, stretching all the way to the ear.

"Have you found me?" it asked.

Zhou Lang suddenly woke up.

My back was covered in sweat.

He glanced at the time—3:49 a.m. There was a faint sound outside the window, like fingernails scratching against glass.

Zhou Lang did not draw the curtains.

He opened his phone's system panel. There were three days left until the eighth instance of the dungeon began.

These three days may not be peaceful.

The next day, the news finally exploded.

It wasn't released by the official channels; it came from independent media outlets. The video went viral across various platforms, being deleted and reposted repeatedly, but its spread far exceeded the efficiency of any attempts to block it.

The video is surveillance footage from a northern city: at a late-night intersection, a woman in white stands in the middle of the road, her hair hanging down to cover her face. As passing vehicles go by her, their dashboards instantly reset to zero, and their engines shut off. Within two minutes, seven or eight cars are stuck at the intersection, and none of them can restart.

Then the woman raised her head.

The surveillance footage froze at this frame, but this screenshot caused panic across the entire internet—her face had no features, it was as smooth as an egg, but there was a crack where her mouth should be.

It looks exactly like the face in my dream.

Zhou Lang stared at the screen for a long time.

Han Yingying's call popped up on my phone.

"You saw it?" Her voice was a little tighter than usual.

"I saw it."

"This is different from the strange things we encountered in the dungeons before. No matter how strange things were before, at least they had a physical form—either they were transformed from humans or they were objectified. This one..."

"This looks like it's original," Zhou Lang said.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Do you remember those runes we saw in the basement of the haunted manor last time?" Han Yingying asked.

"Remember."

"I've been studying it ever since I got back. Those runes aren't just decorations; they're a sealing structure. I've seen similar things in several dungeons—different dungeons, different scenes, but the basic patterns of the seals are the same."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm wondering, what's the point of dungeons? Are they meant to test players, or... seal something away?"

Zhou Lang had also thought about this problem.