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

The bus swayed along the provincial highway, the streetlights outside the windows casting flickering light and shadow on the faces of the passengers inside.

Shen Yu sat by the window, a canvas bag on her lap containing a sketchbook and a few pencils—her only belongings. To be precise, it was her only "respectable" possession.

There were about twenty people on the bus, most of whom didn't know each other. They were all occupying their seats, engrossed in their phones or pretending to sleep. The atmosphere wasn't exactly tense, but it was unnaturally quiet. After all, nobody knew what this "immersive script-based guesthouse" was all about.

Shen Yu only knew that she had been chosen.

Three days ago, she received a text message on her phone with no sender. The message was brief: "Congratulations on becoming a player of the [Horror Game]. Please meet at waiting area B3 of the long-distance bus station in Neayang Province on July 18th."

She initially thought it was a scam text message and almost deleted it. Then that night, a faceless paper figure crawled out from under her desk.

Recalling this, Shen Yu unconsciously shrank her neck.

Is this your first time participating?

The man in the next seat spoke up. His voice was low, with a casual tone that suggested he didn't intend to actually engage in conversation.

Shen Yu turned to look at him. The man was wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled low, revealing only his chin and a small part of his lips. He was clutching an unopened bottle of mineral water.

"I guess so," she said.

The man didn't ask any more questions.

The carriage fell silent again. Shen Yu noticed a middle-aged man in a plaid shirt constantly wiping away sweat from his forehead in the seat in front of him. The air-conditioned bus was set quite low in July, yet sweat was pouring down his forehead.

He held his phone in his hand, the screen lit up, but his fingers didn't move. After staring at it for a few seconds, Shen Yu realized that the screen was completely blank—pure black, not even a standby screen.

The man in the plaid shirt suddenly turned his head and smiled at the air.

Shen Yu's hair stood on end.

Something was off about that smile. The curve of her lips was too wide, but her eyes were completely lifeless. It was like a piece of dough being stretched at both ends.

She wasn't the only one who saw it. Several people on the bus turned their gazes in that direction. But no one said a word.

The man in the plaid shirt began to speak to the air, his voice barely audible, his lips moving in and out. He leaned forward, his head almost touching the back of the seat in front of him.

Shen Yu's palms were sweating. Her instincts were telling her to do something.

Before that damn text message appeared, she was a third-year art student, whose biggest worries were her graduation project and her stepmother's occasional sarcastic remarks. She had never seen a ghost, never fought a monster, and had never dealt with any "dungeon" (instance/challenge).

But after that paper figure appeared, some other things followed. Like the cold system panel in her mind, and the skill names on the panel that left her completely baffled—

【Con artist - Lv1】

—And a strange intuition.

At that moment, her intuition told her that something had gotten stuck to her plaid shirt.

Shen Yu put her hand on the armrest of the front seat and was about to stand up when a hand pressed down on her shoulder.

The force wasn't heavy, but it was extremely precise, just enough to push her back into her seat.

"Don't move."

The man in black beside her. He didn't even turn to look at her, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his lips barely moving: "Mind your own business."

"But that person—"

"He's alright."

Shen Yu wanted to retort. The plaid shirt had already begun to twitch slightly, and her fingers were bending one by one, as if being squeezed and bent backward by something.

But the man in black's hand remained on her shoulder, neither too tight nor too loose. His certainty made her hesitate.

Thirty seconds later, the plaid shirt fell silent.

He leaned back, the sweat on his face dwindling, and his phone screen lit up again, displaying his WeChat chat history. He looked around blankly, as if he had just woken up, then looked down and continued scrolling through his phone.

Nothing happened.

Shen Yu was stunned for several seconds.

The hand on his shoulder withdrew. The man in black unscrewed the bottle of mineral water and took a sip.

"How do you know he's alright?" Shen Yu asked.

"experience."

Just two words, no further explanation needed.

Shen Yu pondered the answer over and over, but ultimately didn't press the matter further. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze falling on the roadside trees rushing past the window.

Night fell. The bus turned off the provincial highway and onto a narrow road flanked by farmland. The headlights cut a small cone of light in the darkness; otherwise, nothing could be seen.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped.

The destination was a three-story building with white walls and gray tiles, and a wooden sign hanging at the entrance—"Guichenju".

It looked like an ordinary country inn. Several osmanthus trees grew in the courtyard, and two warm yellow lamps hung under the porch. If Shen Yu hadn't been brought here in the middle of the night by a bus of dubious origin, she might have even thought this place was quite suitable for a vacation.

"We've arrived. Everyone, get off." The driver was a quiet old man who didn't say a word from beginning to end.

More than twenty people got off the bus one after another and stood in the courtyard. Some people started whispering, and some took out their phones to make calls—but there was no signal.

Shen Yu noticed that the man in black had moved to the outermost edge of the crowd, leaning against the courtyard wall, as if he was observing something.

The air was filled with the scent of osmanthus. Too strong; there shouldn't be the fragrance of osmanthus in July.

Then, a system notification appeared.

A cold, mechanical voice resounded directly in everyone's minds:

Welcome to the D-rank dungeon – Guichen Residence

[Number of players: 22]

[Instance Time Limit: 72 hours]

[Your identity: Shen Yu, an art student. You have been invited to this guesthouse for sketching and inspiration. The art exhibition opens in three days, and you need to complete a piece of artwork.]

[Hint: There are beings in the guesthouse that are not human. Find them, or... be found by them.]

【Good luck.】

Shen Yu blinked, processing this information. A copy, an identity, 72 hours.

So this is how "horror games" work: a group of people are thrown into a closed environment and made to live with ghosts and monsters for three days.

She glanced around at the people. Some were expressionless, others were panicked. She could tell—those who remained calm were likely experienced players, while those who panicked were newbies.

The man in black took off his hat.

Shen Yu then got a good look at his face. He was young, in his early twenties, with handsome features but nothing striking. His most noticeable feature was a small patch of light blue under his eyes, as if he had been chronically sleep-deprived.

He glanced at her, said nothing, and walked straight into the guesthouse.

Shen Yu stood still for two seconds, then followed.

The interior layout of Guichen Residence is very simple. The first floor has a hall, kitchen, and two guest rooms. There are six guest rooms on the second floor and four on the third floor. There are a total of twelve rooms for twenty-two people, and some will need to share rooms.

There was no one at the front desk. A row of keys and their corresponding room numbers were laid out on the table, and a check-in guide was placed next to them.

Shen Yu opened the notice. The content was short:

1. Please do not leave the room after 10 p.m.

The room at the far left on the second and third floors is off-limits.

3. If someone knocks on the door, please verify their identity first.

IV. The studio is located at the end of the first floor and is open all day.

Fifth, please do not believe what dead people say.