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

The green light of the oil lamp illuminated a vast space, the ground was paved with stone slabs, and a row of iron chains hung on the wall, with empty shackles at the ends of the chains.

"People used to be imprisoned here." Zhao Qiang's voice was a little tense.

Han Yingying didn't speak, her gaze falling on a stone table in the center of the space. On the stone table was a thick booklet with the words "Servant Registration Form" written on the cover.

Zhou Lang walked over and opened it.

The booklet was filled with names, dates of employment, and a remarks section. The first few dozen pages of remarks all contained the same character – “殁” (mortality).

Until the last page.

"Like a wild rabble, third day on the job, note: pending."

"Zhao Qiang, third day on the job, note: pending."

"Han Yingying, third day on the job, note: to be determined."

Zhao Qiang leaned closer for a look, his face turning pale: "What does this mean? Are all those people in front dead?"

"Not all of them are dead." Zhou Lang pointed to one of the names.

The note for that name read "Promotion".

Han Yingying noticed another detail: "The person who was promoted has been with the company for... seven days."

"So we have four days left." Zhou Lang closed the booklet.

"Wait." Han Yingying flipped to the back of the booklet, where a note was pasted, the handwriting messy:

"On the seventh night, the butler will give you a choice: leave alive, or stay. Those who stay will become a part of this place."

Zhao Qiang: "...What do you mean by becoming a part of something?"

Zhou Lang glanced at the chains on the wall. The shackles weren't the right size. Some were too small, some were too long, and some had joints that bent in a way that didn't look human.

"Where do you think those ghosts came from?" Zhou Lang asked.

Zhao Qiang's Adam's apple bobbed slightly: "Stop talking."

Zhou Lang didn't say anything more. He tore off the note and stuffed it into his pocket, then walked around the basement again. In the corner was a small door with a second lock on it—thicker and more deeply rusted than the first.

He pulled out a chainsaw.

The sound of the chainsaw was deafening in the confined space. Han Yingying and Zhao Qiang covered their ears and retreated to the back.

Thirty seconds later, the lock broke.

Behind the door was an even smaller room containing only one thing—a mirror.

The mirror was large, taking up the entire wall. The mirror surface was dark, making the reflection unclear.

Zhou Lang approached, holding an oil lamp.

The moment the green light shone on the mirror, an image appeared in the mirror.

It's not a reflection.

It's a video clip.

The scene shows the main hall of the manor, where the butler stands in the center, with a row of people kneeling before him. These people are dressed as servants, both men and women, and their expressions vary—some are crying, some are laughing, and some are expressionless.

The butler, holding a pair of scissors, walked up to the first person.

"What's your choice?"

"I'm leaving."

The butler nodded and pointed the scissors at the man. The man's body began to turn transparent and then disappeared.

The second person: "I...I'll stay."

The butler nodded again. Then it used scissors to cut off the person's shadow.

The shadow detached from the body, writhing on the ground before slowly rising to its feet. The man lay motionless on the ground, while his shadow... transformed into a new ghost.

The screen disappeared.

Zhao Qiang: "Damn it."

Han Yingying's expression was also grim: "So staying will turn you into a ghost, and leaving will... make you disappear?"

"Disappearance doesn't necessarily mean death." Zhou Lang stared at the mirror. The mirror returned to its calm state, but he noticed a line of small print at the bottom of the frame:

"The third lock is on the butler."

Zhou Lang remembered those words.

"Let's go." He turned around.

"Wait a minute," Han Ying pointed to the bottom right corner of the mirror, "there are words there."

Zhou Lang looked back. It was a very small line, almost so small you had to press your face against the mirror to see it:

"Break the mirror, and you will see the real exit. But the butler will know immediately."

The three of them exchanged a glance.

"Let's not move for now," Zhou Lang said. "We don't have enough information."

He was calculating in his mind: three locks. The first one was on the basement door, and it was already broken. The third one was on the butler. The second one…

"Where is the second lock?" Zhao Qiang asked the same question.

"I don't know. We need to keep looking." Zhou Lang walked towards the stairs. "That's enough for tonight, let's go back."

The three returned the way they came. When they reached the middle of the stairs, the oil lamp suddenly flickered violently.

Zhou Lang stopped in his tracks.

At the exit above the stairs stood the butler.

It tilted its head, its empty eye sockets staring at the three people.

"You...are not in the room."

Zhao Qiang's legs began to tremble. Han Ying moved closer to Zhou Lang.

Zhou Lang thought for two seconds, then raised the oil lamp and shone it on the butler.

The green light shone on the butler.

It did not respond.

Zhou Lang thought for another two seconds.

Then he did something no one expected—he raised the chainsaw and said to the butler:

"Get out of the way."

The butler tilted his head and looked at him for three seconds.

Then it moved aside.

Zhao Qiang: "?"

The three hurried upstairs, while the butler remained standing still. When they reached the first floor and looked back, the stairwell was empty.

Back in the corridor, the ghosts were still everywhere. Zhou Lang, holding an oil lamp, escorted Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying back to their rooms respectively.

"We'll continue searching for the second lock tomorrow," he said at Han Yingying's door.

Han Yingying nodded, then hesitated for a moment: "Why do you think the housekeeper stepped aside?"

"Because it only said not to leave the room, but didn't say what would happen if you left."

"What kind of reason is that?"

"If the rules don't specify penalties, then there are no penalties," Zhou Lang said. "At least that's how it is for now."

"What if they change the rules next time?"

"Then let's talk about it next time."

Han Ying looked at him for two seconds and then closed the door.

Zhou Lang returned to his room. He didn't go to sleep immediately, but instead went through the information he had gained that day in his mind.

There are three locks. The first one is broken. The location of the second one is unknown. The third one is on the butler.

The mirror can be broken, but the housekeeper will know.

On the seventh day, the butler will give you a choice: stay and become a ghost, or leave and disappear.

But what exactly does "disappear" mean?

If disappearing means death, then this instance is a guaranteed death trap. But the system won't design a guaranteed death trap unless... there's a third option.

The third option.

Zhou Lang stared at the ceiling.

Break the mirror to see the real exit. The butler will find out. But what if the butler finds out?

He picked up the third lock from the butler's body—provided he could get the butler under control first.

Just because the butler can move the chainsaw aside today doesn't mean it can be damaged.

But this at least shows one thing: the butler is not invincible; he will give way.

Zhou Lang closed his eyes.

Fourth day.

At seven o'clock in the morning, the butler appeared in the hall as usual to assign tasks.

"Hey everyone, today's task is to clean the attic."

The attic. I've never been there before.

Zhou Lang took the task sheet and noticed that the butler looked at him for a beat longer than yesterday.

Zhao Qiang was assigned to wash the dishes. Han Yingying was assigned to tidy up the study.

The three exchanged a glance and then set off separately.

The attic was at the far end of the third floor, accessible only by pulling down a folding ladder. When Zhou Lang pulled the ladder, dust covered his face.