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

"Leave?" Han Yingying was taken aback. "Aren't we supposed to work for ten days?"

"The plan has changed," Zhou Lang said. "I'm going to the Ghost Story High School."

"What?" Both of them were stunned.

"My sister is there," Zhou Lang explained simply, "so I have to go."

"But..." Zhao Qiang wanted to say something, but in the end he kept his mouth shut.

He knew that no one could change Zhou Lang's decision.

As dawn broke, sunlight streamed into the hall through the windows.

The ghosts all disappeared, and the manor returned to peace.

Zhou Lang walked to the center of the hall and looked at the clock on the wall.

Seven o'clock in the morning.

A new day begins.

But for Zhou Lang, this was also the last day.

He was going to leave this place to find his sister.

As for the butler and those ghosts, let them stay in this damned manor.

Sunlight streamed into the hall, dispelling the chill of the night.

Zhou Lang sat on the sofa, the black lines on his right hand particularly glaring in the sunlight. He could feel that power coursing through his body, like countless insects gnawing at his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" Han Yingying asked cautiously.

"It's alright," Zhou Lang said, flexing his fingers. "Much better than being sawed by a chainsaw."

Zhao Qiang was flipping through a notebook he had brought from the basement. He had found it in a drawer in the operating room; it contained the dean's experimental log.

"It says here that the 'Assembled Monster' was a work that took the dean three years to complete," Zhao Qiang read aloud. "It used organs from forty-seven people to finally piece together a relatively complete body."

"Forty-seven..." Han Yingying's face turned pale, "The people in those photos..."

"They were all turned into materials." Zhou Lang took the notebook and turned to the last page. "But the Dean ultimately failed. Because although the Patchwork Monster was alive, it had no soul."

On the last page of the notebook, a line was written in blood: "A body without a soul is ultimately just a walking corpse."

"So that's why the dean keeps arresting people?" Zhao Qiang asked.

"Yes." Zhou Lang closed his notebook. "It wants to find a perfect soul to infuse into the spliced ​​monster's body."

"Did you find it?"

"No," Zhou Lang said, "because it went mad first."

He recalled memories of the Patchwork Monster. In the process of creating the Patchwork Monster, the Dean gradually lost his humanity. He began to enjoy torturing others, even regarding it as an art form.

Finally, it set fire to the entire sanatorium, trapping everyone inside.

"So what do we do now?" Han Yingying asked. "The butler definitely won't let us leave easily."

"Not necessarily." Zhou Lang stood up. "I have an idea."

He walked to the wall in the lobby, where a painting hung. It was a panoramic view of the sanatorium, and it looked quite ordinary.

But Zhou Lang knew there was something wrong with the painting.

He reached out and pressed his hand on the picture frame, and the black lines began to glow. The image suddenly distorted, revealing what was hidden behind it.

A door.

"This is..." Zhao Qiang's eyes widened.

"A secret passage," Zhou Lang said, "a backup plan left by the Dean."

This is what he saw in the memories of the spliced ​​monster. When the director built the sanatorium, he deliberately left a secret passage leading outside the manor.

"But there's a problem with this secret passage," Zhou Lang said, looking at the symbols on the door. "It's sealed."

How do I untie it?

"We need the dean's blood," Zhou Lang said, "or..."

He raised his right hand, and the black lines began to writhe.

"The blood of the splicer monster."

Zhou Lang made a cut on his finger, and blood dripped onto the door. The symbol began to glow, and the door slowly opened.

Behind the door was a narrow passage that seemed to have no end.

"Are we really going to take this path?" Han Yingying hesitated. "What if it's a trap?"

"That's still better than staying here," Zhou Lang said. "At least we still have a choice."

Just as the three were about to enter the secret passage, a commotion suddenly came from upstairs.

Xiong Batian and his two companions walked down the stairs and were stunned when they saw Zhou Lang and his group.

"What are you doing?" Xiong Batian asked.

"Get ready to leave." Zhou Lang didn't hide anything. "There's a secret passage here that leads outside."

"Leave?" Xiong Batian's eyes lit up. "We want to go too!"

"Whatever," Zhou Lang shrugged, "but I can't guarantee your safety."

"It's alright," Xiong Batian said, "it's better than staying here and waiting to die."

Six people entered the secret passage, with Zhou Lang leading the way, holding an oil lamp for illumination.

The passageway was narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time. The walls were covered in moss, and the air was thick with the smell of decay.

After walking for about ten minutes, a fork in the road appeared ahead.

"Which way?" Zhao Qiang asked.

Zhou Lang closed his eyes, sensing the memories left behind by the spliced ​​monster.

"left."

They continued onward, but after walking for a short while, they heard screams behind them.

Zhou Lang looked back and saw that one of Xiong Batian's companions was gone.

"He was just behind me!" another student exclaimed in panic. "How did he suddenly disappear?"

"Don't stop," Zhou Lang said. "Keep going."

"But..."

"He's already dead," Zhou Lang interrupted him. "This secret passage has traps; stopping will only hasten your death."

As soon as he finished speaking, the wall suddenly cracked open, and countless hands reached out to grab the crowd.

"run!"

The six people ran forward as fast as they could, with those hands chasing relentlessly behind them. One student was a step too slow, and the hand grabbed his ankle, dragging him straight into the wall.

The screams abruptly stopped.

Now there are only four people left.

Zhou Lang, Zhao Qiang, Han Yingying, and Xiong Batian.

"What the hell is this place?!" Xiong Batian cried out in despair. "Why are there traps everywhere?!"

"Because the dean doesn't want anyone to escape," Zhou Lang said, "including itself."

Another door appeared ahead, with the words "Turning back is the shore" inscribed on it.

"What does this mean?" Han Yingying asked.

"Literal meaning," Zhou Lang said, "The dean is trying to persuade us to go back."

"Then we..."

"Of course we'll keep going." Zhou Lang pushed open the door. "We've come this far, can we really go back?"

Behind the door was a huge room with a high ceiling and countless mirrors hanging on the walls.

Their reflections were shown in every mirror, but each reflection was slightly different.

Some were laughing, some were crying, and some were screaming.

"Don't look in the mirror," Zhou Lang warned. "These are all illusions."

But it was too late.

Xiong Batian stared at one of the mirrors and suddenly laughed.

"I saw it... I saw myself get out..." he murmured, "I did it... I survived..."

"Xiong Batian!" Zhao Qiang tried to stop him, but Xiong Batian had already walked towards the mirror.

He reached out and touched the mirror, and his whole body was sucked in.

His screams came from the mirror, and then there was silence.

"Damn it!" Zhao Qiang cursed.

Now there are only three people left.

Zhou Lang looked at the mirrors and suddenly laughed.

"The dean really went to great lengths," he said, "using illusions to lure us into a trap."

"Then what should we do?" Han Yingying asked.

"It's simple." Zhou Lang picked up the chainsaw. "Smash all the mirrors."