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

The tall, thin man in the white coat opened his eyes and smiled: "Zheng Yuan, doctor. Third instance."

The man in the last row, wearing a baseball cap, tossed a coin and caught it without even looking up: "Just call me Ah Qi."

Han Yingying announced her name, and then everyone looked at Zhou Lang.

"Like a wave in the wind," Zhou Lang said.

There was a two-second silence.

"...What?" Su Wanqing thought she had misheard.

"My game ID." Zhou Lang said without changing his expression, "Just call me Zhou Lang."

Lei Dong glanced at him twice but didn't say anything.

After the introductions, the atmosphere eased briefly. Su Wanqing began analyzing the rules: "The rules state that the lights will be turned off for sixty seconds every hour on the hour, after which passengers go missing. This happens seven times between midnight and six o'clock—but we only have eight people."

"Does that mean there will only be one less each time?" Han Yingying asked.

"I'm not sure." Su Wanqing shook her head. "The rules say 'some passengers will go missing,' but they don't specify the number. Maybe one at a time, maybe several."

"Wouldn't they all die?" Old Chen's voice was almost cracking.

"The rules also say there are things on the bus that aren't human." Zheng Yuan pointed to the sign, "'Watch out for your seatmate'—I interpret that missing people aren't necessarily killed, but could also be strange creatures that have been found out."

"Or both," Ah Qi added coldly from the back row.

Old Chen's face was as white as paper.

Zhou Lang didn't participate in the discussion. He was observing everyone.

The rules are clearly stated: there are eerie beings mixed among the passengers on the bus. Eight people, how many are real and how many are ghosts, we don't know. But there's one piece of information we can use—his oil lamp can illuminate the eerie.

The problem is that the oil lamp only has three uses left, and we can't waste them.

He leaned back in his chair, glancing at Duoduo across from him out of the corner of his eye. This little girl hadn't shown any emotional fluctuation since entering the dungeon. It was impossible for someone entering a dungeon for the first time to be so calm; a veteran—or someone who wasn't human.

Su Wanqing was still organizing everyone to discuss countermeasures: "I suggest that when the lights are turned off, we gather together and sit back to back, so that at least we can find out who was taken away."

"What if the thing that took people away is among us?" Lei Dong said. "What's the difference between gathering a bunch of people together and delivering vegetables?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"It's simple." Lei Dong clenched his fist. "Whoever's acting strangely, I'll hit them."

Zhou Lang couldn't help but laugh. This person's problem-solving approach was very straightforward.

"Violence may not work in dungeons," Zheng Yuan cautioned.

"It doesn't work on ghosts, but it works on people," Lei Dong said confidently.

The discussion reached a stalemate. The clock struck 11:50.

Zhou Lang stood up.

"Listen to me." His voice wasn't loud, but everyone looked over. "When the lights go out, don't move. Just stay in your seats. Everyone remember who's on your left and right—check them as soon as the lights come back on."

"Why should I listen to you?" Lei Dong asked.

"Because I have a way of telling who the ghost is."

The carriage was silent for a moment.

"What method?" Su Wanqing pressed.

"You'll know when the lights go out for the first time."

"It's that same old story again." Han Yingying rolled her eyes. Zhou Lang had said the same thing at the manor last time, making it sound very mysterious, but when he pulled out a lamp, he almost scared the ghost to tears.

11:55.

Everyone took their places. Zhou Lang sat in the aisle seat, with an empty seat to his left and Han Yingying across the aisle to his right. Duo Duo was in the front row, and Zheng Yuan was in the back row.

11:58.

The sound of the wheels rolling over the rails changed; the rhythm slowed, and the train decelerated. It was still dark outside the window, but you could feel the speed decreasing.

11:59.

The light tube on the roof of the carriage flickered twice.

"They're here," Su Wanqing said softly.

On the hour.

All the lights went out at the same time, plunging the carriage into complete darkness.

The 60-second countdown has begun.

Zhou Lang heard something amiss in the first second—the seat springs were making a slight creaking sound, but it was exceptionally clear in the absolute silence. Something was moving.

Next came the sound of breathing. Many breaths were mixed together, but some were particularly heavy and didn't sound like they were coming from human lungs.

At the twentieth second, the female teacher, Su Wanqing, suddenly gasped.

"Who's touching my hand?" she asked in a very low voice.

No one answered.

Thirty seconds.

Duoduo whispered, "Don't move. It's watching you."

A chill ran down Zhou Lang's spine. Who was he saying that to?

Forty seconds.

A very short, muffled groan came from the back of the carriage, followed by the sound of dragging, with a heavy object scraping against the floor. This lasted for about three seconds before abruptly stopping.

Fifty seconds.

Zhou Lang took out the oil lamp, his thumb resting on the switch, but he didn't light it. He wouldn't use it until the very last moment.

Fifty-eight.

Fifty-nine.

sixty.

The light bulb came back on, first a dark red, then turning white.

Zhou Lang immediately looked around.

Han Yingying was there—her face didn't look good, but she was there.

Duoduo was still hugging her teddy bear, her expression unchanged.

Su Wanqing was wearing glasses askew, her left hand gripping the armrest tightly.

Lei Dong stood there, fists raised in front of him, poised to throw a punch at any moment.

Zheng Yuanzai.

Ah Qi is here.

Old Chen—is gone.

The seat he had been sitting in was now empty. His briefcase lay on the floor, its zipper ripped open, scattering documents everywhere. There were three deep, parallel scratches on the seat back, penetrating the leather and foam, all the way down to the metal frame.

"Where is everyone?" Lei Dong looked around the carriage.

No one answered the question because everyone knew the answer.

Old Chen is gone.

The first round ended with one player eliminated.

Su Wanqing squatted down in front of Old Chen's old seat, examining the three scratches. "Very sharp, probably claws—weird claws." She tried to remain calm, but her index finger kept unconsciously rubbing her thumb. "Judging from the marks, the force was considerable."

"Nonsense." Lei Dong walked over and picked at the edge of the scratch with his finger. The metal was clearly sunken in, as if something had dug it in. "For iron to be scratched like this, Old Chen probably didn't suffer much—it was too fast, just a quick scratch."

These words were meant to comfort her, but they had the opposite effect. Su Wanqing's lips pressed into a thin line, and she didn't reply.

"What do we do next?" Han Yingying walked to Zhou Lang's side and lowered her voice.

"First, we need to figure out how many anomalies there are," Zhou Lang said. "One of the eight people is dead, leaving seven. If the anomaly is hiding among the people, then the fact that it didn't reveal itself in the first round at least shows that it doesn't intend to finish this quickly."

"You mean, the one who killed Old Chen was an outsider, not one of us?"

"Not sure. It's also possible that it killed someone and then came back."

Han Yingying's expression was not good.

Zhou Lang returned to his seat and picked up a few of the documents Old Chen had scattered. Most were business contracts and reports, not very useful, but there was a small note in the tucked compartment—