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

At the end of the basement was a wooden door.

Behind the wooden door wasn't some earth-shattering secret, but a wall. Embedded in the wall was a bronze plaque with crookedly engraved words:

Congratulations on clearing the level.

Zhou Lang raised the oil lamp high. Below the bronze plaque was a line of small print: "The evaluation will be issued based on the overall performance in the dungeon. Please wait for the settlement in place."

"That's it?" Zhao Qiang breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall. "You made it so scary, I almost peed my pants."

Han Yingying didn't speak. She stared at the words on the bronze plaque, feeling that something was off. From the moment they entered the basement until now, they hadn't encountered a single ghost. Given the nature of this instance, things shouldn't be going this smoothly.

"Don't relax," Zhou Lang said.

The bronze plaque cracked as soon as the words were spoken.

It didn't shatter; it split in two, like a mouth slowly opening. A large amount of black liquid gushed out of the crack, flowing down the wall and gathering into a human shape on the ground.

Zhao Qiang sprang into action, taking two steps at a time to hide behind Zhou Lang.

The black humanoid gradually solidified, transforming into the appearance of the butler—but unlike before, it now had facial features. An extremely delicate woman's face, paired with a butler's uniform, created a striking incongruity.

"Instance settlement begins." Butler Killer announced, his voice changing from hoarse to clear. "Player 'Langligelang', overall rating S, rewards: 5000 Fear Points, 1 Skill Fragment, 2 Shop Discount Coupons."

Zhou Lang accepted the three items, his expression unchanged.

"Player 'Zhao Qiang', Overall Rating A, Reward: 2000 Fear Points, 'Iron Shield' Defensive Item x1."

Zhao Qiang took the items, muttering as he did so, "Only A-level? I was the roommate for a ghost for two days!"

The butler ignored him and turned to Han Yingying.

"Player 'Han Yingying', overall rating A+, reward: 3000 Fear Points, passive skill 'Spiritual Perception'."

Han Yingying was stunned. Passive skills? She had only heard of such things, never actually seen anyone possess them. She subconsciously glanced at the skill description—

【Insight (Passive): Increases the detection range of anomalies by 30%, and provides a warning 3 seconds before danger approaches. Cooldown: None.】

"This skill..." Before she could examine it closely, the butler's body began to dissipate.

"The instance will close in ten seconds. Thank you for your help."

Zhou Lang turned and glanced at Han Yingying: "What good stuff did you get?"

"A passive skill."

"Not bad." Zhou Lang nodded. "It'll be useful."

He didn't ask any more questions.

The moment the countdown reached zero, a flash of white light appeared before Han Yingying's eyes.

-

When Han Yingying opened her eyes again, she was lying on her own bed.

The pink curtains let in harsh sunlight, the air conditioner hummed, and the phone on the bedside table showed 2:17 PM. Saturday.

She was stunned for a full half minute.

Her hand was still clutching the corner of the blanket, her fingertips icy cold. The damp, musty smell of the basement lingered in her nostrils, but before her was the familiar bedroom—a desk covered in sticky notes, a school uniform hanging on the back of a chair, and a nearly dead pothos plant in the corner.

"Dreaming?" she muttered to herself.

But the soreness in her body couldn't lie. She raised her hand to look at her wrist, where there was a faint red mark where she had been rubbed by the chains in the dungeon, which was fading at a visible speed.

She quickly turned on her phone.

There were no notifications about the "horror game," no system panel, and no inventory. The latest message on WeChat was from my best friend, Lin Xiaolu:

"Yingying! Come shopping with me this afternoon, okay? The new store is having a sale!"

The timestamp is 2:05, twelve minutes ago.

Han Yingying stared at the message for a long time. Four days had passed in the instance, but how much time had passed in reality? She last entered the instance at 10:00 AM on Saturday, which meant... only four hours had passed.

She replied with an "okay," then lifted the covers and got out of bed.

She stopped as she passed the bathroom mirror. Her reflection looked normal; her hair was a little messy, but she didn't look like she'd been through four days of horror. She looked closer at her eyes; her pupils were a normal color and not bloodshot.

"Han Yingying?"

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and the stepmother's voice came through the door: "You're awake? Lunch is still warming in the pot, come down and eat."

"Okay, right away."

Her voice was steady. This feeling of switching between two worlds was so strange, like acting in a play, removing your makeup and leaving the stage, while the audience went about their business.

When she came downstairs, her stepsister, Han Xiaoman, was curled up on the sofa watching a variety show. Seeing Han Yingying, she raised her chin and asked, "Sis, you're still asleep? What were you doing last night?"

"I stayed up late reading."

"Tch, boring." Han Xiaoman rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the TV.

Her stepmother placed a bowl of porridge and two plates of side dishes on the table and invited her to come and eat. Her attitude was as gentle as ever, neither too close nor too distant, maintaining a polite and warm demeanor.

Han Yingying sat down, drank her porridge, and her mind was filled with thoughts of the dungeon.

Zhou Lang, that person.

It's hard to describe the feeling. In dungeons, he's always the calmest one, decisive and clear-headed. While others are panicking and at a loss, he's already thinking about the third and fourth steps. But if you chat with him privately, you'll find that he's incredibly sarcastic and has given himself the nickname "Wandering Scoundrel," and can say things like "Sorry to keep you all waiting" when facing a group of ghosts.

She poked at the pickled vegetables in her bowl with her chopsticks, a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

After finishing her meal, she went upstairs to change her clothes and then went out to find Lin Xiaolu.

The two met at the mall entrance. Lin Xiaolu, wearing a floral dress, waved to her from afar and quickly ran over to take her arm.

"Let's go! The store on the third floor has a 40% discount!"

Shopping, trying on clothes, drinking milk tea. Lin Xiaolu chattered on about the gossip at school—who confessed to whom and got rejected, the math teacher lost his temper in class again, and the cafeteria's new dark dish called "Tomato-flavored Braised Pork".

Han Yingying listened, occasionally responding with a few words.

"Why are you so distracted today?" Lin Xiaolu took a sip of her milk tea, looking her over. "Is there something you're hiding from me?"

"No. I just didn't sleep well."

"Come on," Lin Xiaolu leaned closer and whispered, "You have a red mark on the back of your neck, from a mosquito bite?"

Han Yingying reached up and touched the back of her neck. It was indeed a little itchy. But it wasn't a mosquito bite—she'd been scratched by something in the basement during the dungeon, but hadn't paid attention to it at the time.

"Hmm, a mosquito."

Lin Xiaolu clearly didn't believe her, but she didn't press the matter. The two bought some clothes, had hot pot, and didn't go home until after 8 p.m.

When Han Yingying arrived home, her stepmother was tidying up the dishes in the kitchen, while Han Xiaoman had already gone back to her room. Han Yingying greeted her stepmother and went upstairs to take a shower.

The hot water washed over her, slowly easing her fatigue. She buried her face in the water, closed her eyes, and let the sound of the water fill her ears.

Suddenly I remembered that passive skill—Spiritual Awareness.

She focused her attention, trying to sense something. But there was nothing. No panel, no prompts, no unusual sensations.