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

The haze over the abandoned factory was more intense than expected.

The moment Li Feng's mobilization order was issued, the surrounding air underwent a strange change. It wasn't the usual chilling atmosphere of a dungeon opening, but a tangible, oppressive pressure that made even breathing feel viscous. The factory's rusty iron gate didn't open as planned; instead, it twisted and snapped in half, the ear-piercing sound of breaking metal drowning out everyone's gasps.

"Contract formation! Prepare defensive equipment!" Li Feng drew his sidearm from his waist, and the runes engraved on the gun barrel lit up with a red light.

late.

Zhou Lang stood at the edge of the crowd, and an irregular black rift appeared in the space in front of him. It was definitely not something a three-star monster could cause. Thick black mud seeped from the rift's edge, dripping onto the concrete floor and corroding deep, bottomless pits.

The system panel started flashing wildly in that instant, with a scarlet warning box filling the entire field of vision.

[WARNING: Intrusion by a Class S high-dimensional entity detected!]

[WARNING: The underlying logic of the A-rank dungeon 'Ghost Realm' has crashed!]

[Spatial anchor points are out of order; players are being forcibly reassigned...]

Zhao Qiang, still clutching the defensive talisman he had just bought, was suddenly pulled into the air by a violent suction force. Han Yingying's scream was only half-finished before it was swallowed by the rift. Zhou Lang had no time to react; the space behind him collapsed, and he fell backward into boundless darkness.

The feeling of weightlessness lasted for an unknown amount of time.

When Zhou Lang opened his eyes again, he smelled a strong, cheap car air freshener mixed with the musty smell of leather.

He sat in the back of a bumpy minibus. Outside the window, a continuous drizzle fell, and the dim sunlight couldn't penetrate the bus. It was noisy inside; seven or eight young people dressed casually were playing cards and chatting together, with drawing boards and paint boxes piled up at their feet.

"This road is so bad, it's like my bones are going to fall apart from all the bumps," complained a girl wearing a red beret in the front row.

"Bear with it. I heard the town ahead has a really pristine landscape, perfect for sketching." The boy next to me offered a bottle of water.

Zhou Lang ignored the noise and immediately brought up the system panel.

[Instance Name: The Mysterious House (Non-New Player Instance)]

[Instance Level: C (Abnormal Status)]

[Pass condition: Survive in the guesthouse for 7 days.]

Current number of survivors: 1/1

[Warning: This instance has been invaded and claimed as territory by an S-rank anomaly, and the original C-rank instance has suffered severe damage. The timeline is trapped in a forced loop, and the internal anomaly has exceeded the rating limit.]

[Survival Rules (Incomplete Version): They are human during the day. At night, please stay indoors.]

Grade C?

Zhou Lang closed the control panel and tapped his knee twice with his fingers. If it were a normal C-rank, with his current equipment reserves, he could easily overpower it. But the words "abnormal status" and "S-rank bizarre intrusion" raised the danger level to a completely unknown dimension.

The timeline is forced into a loop. This means that the ghosts in this instance are reliving the agony of death every day, their resentment accumulating infinitely. Beneath their C-rank exteriors lie monsters that could easily go berserk.

"You're awake?" The bandaged man's voice echoed in my mind, unusually grave. "The situation is terrible. I can sense an extremely powerful aura outside, locking this small space shut. We've become its breeding ground."

"Since I'm here, I might as well make the best of it." Zhou Lang took out the chainsaw from his backpack, checked that the fuel and chain were in good condition, and then put it back into his storage space.

The minibus stopped in front of a three-story self-built house.

The exterior walls are covered with tacky white tiles, some of which have peeled off, revealing the grayish-black cement underneath. The signboard is illuminated by cheap neon lights: Good Luck Guesthouse.

The students noisily carried their art supplies off the bus. Zhou Lang mingled at the back of the crowd, sizing up the guesthouse owner who was standing at the door to greet them.

He was a middle-aged man in his fifties, wearing a yellowed white vest, his back hunched over badly. His skin was an unhealthy grayish-white, his hands were rough, and his fingernails were filled with black grime, as if he had been dealing with mud and sand for years.

"Welcome, all you top students from the art academy." The boss rubbed his hands together, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against glass. "The rooms are all ready, two people per room. This young man, you need a private room, right? There's a single room left at the end for you."

Zhou Lang took the doorplate with the rusty copper key, which read "304".

When the boss handed over the keys, their fingers briefly touched. The temperature was nothing like that of a living person; it was as cold as frozen meat just taken out of the freezer. Zhou Lang noticed a very thin, dark red ligature mark on the boss's neck.

"Boss, are you the only one running this place?" The girl in the red beret looked around. "It looks like a pretty big yard."

The boss paused for half a second, making gurgling noises in his throat: "My wife isn't feeling well and is resting in the backyard. Please don't disturb her there unless it's absolutely necessary."

After the rooms were assigned, the students dispersed. Zhou Lang carried his few pieces of luggage up to the third floor.

The hallway was carpeted in a dark red color, with a soft, slippery feel underfoot, as if it had absorbed some kind of liquid. Room 304 was at the very end of the corridor. Pushing open the door, a strong musty smell hit you. The room was simply furnished: a wooden bed, a bedside table, an old-fashioned CRT television, and a small washbasin connected to the bathroom.

Zhou Lang didn't rush to rest, but instead thoroughly checked the room. There were no foreign objects under the bed, and the window locks were intact, but when he shone his powerful flashlight on the ceiling, he noticed a noticeable water stain in the corner of the wall, which was spreading outwards at an extremely slow speed.

It got dark very suddenly.

One second it was a gray, rainy day outside the window, the next it was as if a black cloth had been completely shrouded in darkness. The motion-sensor lights in the corridor were broken, and the entire guesthouse fell into a deathly silence.

According to the system prompts, the rules for the first day should be relatively safe: no ghosts or monsters appear during the day, but be wary of eeriness if you're inside the guesthouse at night. Considering the characteristics of the reincarnation instance, the first day presents the greatest restriction on ghosts and monsters; they cannot directly enter the rooms.

Zhou Lang placed the oil lamp by the bedside but did not light it. He leaned against the corner of the wall behind the door, holding a newly bought stun gun in his hand, and waited quietly.

One o'clock in the morning.

A sound came from the corridor.

It wasn't footsteps, but a strange friction sound. It was like something soft yet resilient, slowly dragging along the rough wall.

"rustle--"

The sound stopped outside the door of room 304.

A faint red light shone through the crack under the door. The light was dim, yet it possessed an eerie warmth. Immediately afterward, a strong smell of burning mixed with cheap perfume powder seeped in through the crack.

"Honey...why don't you come home...?"

A woman's voice came from outside the door, shrill and mournful, with a heavy nasal tone, sounding like she was crying, yet also like she was laughing.