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

At the end of the basement was a wooden door, the door panel covered with strange symbols.

Zhou Lang held up the oil lamp and approached. Under the green light, the symbols began to flow, as if they were alive.

"This is the second lock?" Zhao Qiang swallowed hard.

"It should be." Zhou Lang reached out and touched the door panel. As soon as his fingertips touched the wood, a sharp pain shot through him.

He withdrew his hand, and a small cut appeared on his fingertip, from which a bead of blood seeped out.

The symbols on the door panel suddenly lit up, greedily absorbing the blood.

"The Blood Lock." Han Yingying recalled what the bandaged man had said, "It requires the blood of a ghost to open."

Zhou Lang glanced at his right hand, which was wrapped in bandages, and with a thought, the bandaged man's voice rang in his mind.

"What do you want to do?"

"Lend me some blood."

"I knew it!" The bandaged man's tone was full of helplessness. "Fine, I'm yours now anyway."

Blood began to seep from the bandage, and Zhou Lang pressed his hand against the door panel.

The symbol frantically absorbed the ghost's blood, causing the entire door to shake.

With a click, the door opened.

Inside was a deeper passage, with oil lamps hanging on the walls, but none of them were lit.

The three walked forward, their footsteps echoing in the passageway.

After walking for about ten minutes, light appeared ahead.

Zhou Lang quickened his pace and rushed out of the passage, where he was stunned by what he saw.

This isn't a basement; it's a forest.

Moonlight filtered through the leaves, and the ground was covered with fallen leaves.

"How is this possible?" Zhao Qiang rubbed his eyes. "We're clearly underground..."

"Is it a hallucination?" Han Yingying asked.

Zhou Lang raised the oil lamp, its green light illuminating the surroundings.

The forest was still there, but human faces appeared on the tree trunks, their eyes wide open, staring intently at the three people.

"It's not an illusion," Zhou Lang said. "This place has been altered; the space has been distorted."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a burst of laughter came from deep within the woods.

The laughter was sharp and piercing, as if countless people were laughing at the same time.

"Something's here." Zhao Qiang's voice changed.

Zhou Lang turned around to walk back, only to find that the passage he had come from had disappeared.

Instead, there is a deeper forest.

"run!"

The three of them took off running, the laughter behind them growing louder and louder.

Zhou Lang glanced back and saw a hanged ghost dangling from a tree, the rope around its neck dragging on the ground.

Its face was swollen and purple, its tongue was sticking out long, and its eyes were almost popping out.

"Human..." the hanged ghost's voice was muffled, "...die...with me..."

Zhou Lang pulled out a chainsaw and sawed at the hanged ghost.

The chainsaw roared to life, and the hanged ghost screamed as his body was sawed in two.

But soon, more hanged ghosts began to descend from the trees.

They hung densely on the branches, like strings of cured meat.

"How the hell are there?!" Zhao Qiang cursed as he ran.

Zhou Lang panicked; the number of these ghosts far exceeded his expectations.

Chainsaws are powerful, but their sheer number makes them unstoppable.

"Run that way!" Han Yingying pointed ahead, "There's light there!"

The three rushed toward the light source, with the hanged ghost in hot pursuit.

After running for about five minutes, a small wooden house appeared ahead.

Warm light shone from the windows of the wooden house, making it look very safe.

"Go in!"

The three rushed into the wooden house, and Zhao Qiang closed the door behind him.

The hanged ghosts banged against the door, making a loud banging sound.

But the door was sturdy, and they couldn't get in.

Zhou Lang leaned against the wall, panting, his clothes soaked with sweat.

"What the hell is this place..." Zhao Qiang slumped to the ground. "I thought there would be some treasure in the basement, but it's a haunted house!"

Han Yingying was in no better shape; her face was deathly pale.

Zhou Lang looked around. The cabin was simply furnished with a bed, a table, and a fireplace.

The fire in the fireplace is still burning, indicating that someone was here not long ago.

"Someone lives here?" Zhao Qiang got up. "Could it be a previous player?"

"It doesn't seem like it." Zhou Lang walked to the table, where a diary was placed.

He turned to the first page, where a line of text was written:

"On the first day, I arrived at this place."

The handwriting is very neat, as if it were written with a fountain pen.

Zhou Lang continued scrolling down.

"On the seventh day, I discovered that time here is chaotic. Sometimes a day goes by very quickly, and sometimes it goes by very slowly."

"On the fifteenth day, I saw it. The thing locked in the deepest part. It was crying, laughing, and screaming."

"On the thirtieth day, I understood. This wasn't a basement, but its dream. We were all trapped in its dream."

"On the fiftieth day, I found a way out. But I wasn't sure if it was the right way."

"On the hundredth day, I decided to give it a try. If you see this diary, it means I failed. Remember, don't trust anyone, including yourself."

This concludes my diary entry.

Zhou Lang closed the notebook, a chill running through him.

"What do you mean?" Zhao Qiang leaned closer. "Don't trust yourself?"

"It might mean that this place creates illusions," Han Yingying said, "making it difficult for us to distinguish between reality and illusion."

Zhou Lang didn't speak; he remembered the third lock the bandaged man had mentioned.

The lock on the heart can only be opened by someone who truly wants to die.

But if this is a dream, could the so-called "heart lock" also be fake?

"We have to get out of here," he said. "This cabin isn't safe."

"But it's full of ghosts outside!" Zhao Qiang pointed to the door. "Going out means death!"

"Staying here is the same as dying." Zhou Lang walked to the window and looked out through the glass.

The hanged ghosts were still lingering outside the door, but there were far fewer of them than before.

"What are they waiting for?" Han Yingying also came over.

Zhou Lang suddenly thought of something and turned to look at the fireplace.

The flames flickered, but made no sound.

A normal flame should crackle, but this flame was too quiet.

He walked to the fireplace and reached out to touch the flames.

"Are you crazy?" Zhao Qiang tried to stop him.

But Zhou Lang's hand had already reached into the flames.

There was no burning sensation or pain.

The flames are fake.

"As expected." Zhou Lang withdrew his hand. "Everything here is fake."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire wooden house began to shake.

The walls began to melt, and the ceiling began to sink.

"Get out of here!"

The three rushed out of the wooden house, but after running a few steps, they heard a loud bang behind them.

The wooden house collapsed, turning into a pool of black liquid that seeped into the ground.

The hanged ghosts disappeared, and the forest returned to peace.

"What on earth is going on?" Zhao Qiang was completely dumbfounded.

Zhou Lang couldn't explain it either, but he knew that the rules here were different from those outside.

"Keep going," he said. "Since we're already here, we have to find a way out."

The three continued walking forward, and the moonlight grew brighter and brighter.

After walking for about half an hour, a stone tablet appeared ahead.

Several lines of text were engraved on the stone tablet:

Welcome to the depths of a dream.

"This is the source of all fear."

"If you want to leave, you must confront what you fear most."