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

The leg swept directly towards Zhao Qiang.

"Lie down!" Han Yingying shouted from the stairwell.

Zhao Qiang lay face down on the ground as the spider leg swept across his head from about half a foot away, the wind it generated blowing his hair all over the place.

"I quit! I quit! I quit!"

"The last one!" Zhou Lang's chainsaw had already cut through the hidden door, and the door panel crashed down. Inside was a small room, with a scroll hanging on the wall.

Zhou Lang ripped the scroll off.

[Congratulations on discovering the hidden room! You have obtained a special item: Map to the Abyss]

Without time to examine the situation closely, Zhou Lang turned and ran, shouting, "Let's go!"

Zhao Qiang sprang to his feet and ran faster than a rabbit. Han Yingying pulled him up from the stairwell, and the three of them tumbled and scrambled up the stairs.

The sound of breaking chains came from behind, followed by the spider demon's shriek—

But it couldn't catch up.

The staircase was too narrow; its size couldn't fit inside.

The three ran back downstairs and slammed the iron door to the basement shut. Zhao Qiang collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

"A 50/50 split isn't enough," he said breathlessly. "I want 70%."

"You only tore open a few cocoons, I opened a door. Whose contribution is greater?"

"You weren't nearly crushed to death by a spider leg! That thing flew right over my head! Do you know what that feels like?"

"I don't know," Zhou Lang said honestly.

Zhao Qiang was furious.

Han Yingying squatted down beside her and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

On the morning of the third day, the butler assigned tasks as usual.

But today there was an extra change—five strangers were standing in the lobby.

Three men and two women, dressed in modern attire incongruous with the manor. The man in the lead was about thirty years old, tall, wearing a long black overcoat, with a strangely shaped short knife at his waist. He had deep-set features and high brow bones, and even standing there without speaking, he exuded a sense of oppression.

The four people behind him each had their own distinct characteristics.

A middle-aged man, around forty years old, with a gentle face, wore a jade bracelet on his left wrist. The bracelet had a crack and had been repaired with gold thread.

A young man in his early twenties, dressed in designer clothes and wearing an expensive watch, was playing with a gold coin in his hand. Upon seeing Zhou Lang and his companions, he excitedly approached them: "You guys are players too?"

There was another girl, who looked about seventeen or eighteen years old, who was huddled at the very back, her eyes fixed on the ground, and she had a very low profile.

The last man leaned against the wall. He was in his thirties, with a stern face and an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. His eyes scanned the entire hall, lingering on Zhou Lang for a half-second longer.

The butler began assigning tasks.

"Welcome to the manor, new guest." The butler's voice was calm. "The rules are the same as everyone else's—work during the day and do not leave your room at night. Those who violate the rules will be punished."

The leading man glanced at the butler, said nothing, but a faint smile played on his lips, an expression of complete understanding.

After the tasks were assigned, everyone dispersed. Just as Zhou Lang was about to leave, the rich kid jogged over and stopped him.

"Hey bro! Wait a minute!"

"what?"

"How many days have you been in this instance? Can you give me some information? I'll pay you!" He pulled out a wad of coins. "One hundred bucks for a message, how about it?"

Zhou Lang glanced at the stack of money, then at him: "Where did you get so much money?"

"It's a skill I got." The rich kid patted his chest. "My skill is amazing—money power! I'll never be short of money! I can get discounts on everything! I can even throw money at people!"

Zhao Qiang listened from the side, his eyes wide with amazement.

Zhou Lang thought for a moment: "Three hundred each."

"two hundred."

"Three hundred. No bargaining."

"Deal!" The rich kid was overjoyed, counting out three hundred yuan and stuffing it into Zhou Lang's hand. "Go on, go on."

"Don't go out at night."

"...That's it?"

"Isn't the news of your survival enough?"

The rich kid was taken aback, then pulled out another three hundred: "One more, please!"

"There's something in the basement, don't go there."

"Anything else?"

"Add more money."

Zhao Qiang watched as Zhou Lang sold information one by one without changing his expression, thinking to himself that this guy made money much faster than he did tasks.

Han Yingying walked over, about to say something, when she suddenly noticed that the man in the lead was looking at her.

His gaze was calm, but Han Yingying felt uncomfortable—it was the feeling of being scrutinized.

"Do you know him?" Zhou Lang asked, following her gaze after receiving the money.

"I don't know him." Han Yingying shook her head.

The man looked away and turned to walk deeper into the corridor.

The daytime work proceeded as usual. Zhou Lang was assigned to trim the garden—this time the flowers were even more bizarre than yesterday, with eye patterns on the petals that would follow people as they moved.

Zhou Lang hummed a song as he cut the paper, completely oblivious to the eyes staring at him.

During the lunch break, the middle-aged man approached Zhou Lang.

"Young man, you've got guts." The middle-aged man sat down next to him. "You can stay so calm in a place like this."

"I'm used to it."

"Oh? How many times have you entered the dungeon?"

Zhou Lang held up a number. The middle-aged man nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

"My surname is Shen." He extended his hand. "Just call me Lao Shen."

"Like a rascal." Zhou Lang shook his hand. "Game ID."

"Interesting name." Old Shen chuckled. "Are the three of you together?"

"right."

"That girl—her name is Han Yingying, right? What skills does she have?"

Zhou Lang narrowed his eyes.

"How should I ask her?"

"Just asking." Old Shen's tone was casual. "There are five of us on the team, and we want to know about the other players so we can coordinate better."

Zhou Lang did not answer.

Old Shen didn't press the matter. He patted his knees and stood up. "Alright, if it's inconvenient to talk about it, that's fine. If you need any help, just let me know. My skill is healing—I can handle injuries."

Thanks.

After Lao Shen left, Zhao Qiang leaned over and asked, "Who was that guy?"

"I don't know." Zhou Lang looked in the direction Old Shen left. "But that group of people is not simple. Among the five of them, at least three are A-level players."

"How did you figure that out?"

"The leader walks silently. Old Shen's bracelet on his left wrist is a prop, not an ornament. The guy by the wall with the cigarette in his hand has a weapon hidden in his trouser leg."

Zhao Qiang swallowed hard: "Why would an A-level expert come to this kind of beginner dungeon?"

good question.

Zhou Lang also wanted to know the answer.

In the afternoon, work continued. Zhou Lang noticed that the girl who had been huddled in the back was assigned to clean the attic, and she carried a bucket of water up to the third floor by herself.

As Zhou Lang passed by her, he heard her mutter softly, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, you won't die, you won't..."

Her hands were shaking.

Zhou Lang passed by without stopping.

Han Yingying, however, turned around and glanced at her again.

As evening fell, everyone gradually returned to the hall. When the butler was distributing wages, the man in charge received a "perfect" rating—the same as Zhou Lang.

This surprised Zhou Lang a bit. For a newcomer to get a perfect score on their first day, it's either good luck or exceptional skill. Judging from his demeanor, he didn't seem like someone who relied on luck.

After dinner, Zhou Lang returned to his room and unrolled the scroll he had obtained during the day.