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

The stairs have reached the bottom.

The green light of the oil lamp illuminated a spacious underground area, even larger than the hall above. The floor was paved with stone bricks, some of which were warped, and the gaps were filled with a black substance, whether it was mud or something else, was unknown.

"It's huge," Zhao Qiang said.

Zhou Lang didn't reply, but took a few steps forward while holding the oil lamp.

Where the green light reached, he saw several rows of iron shelves with bottles and jars on them. Further ahead was a wooden door.

Unlike the doors upstairs, this door has no number.

Zhou Lang glanced back at what was behind him. At the top of the stairs, seven or eight ghosts stood in a row, tilting their heads to look down, but none of them dared to come down.

interesting.

"Why aren't they coming down?" Han Yingying noticed as well.

"I don't know," Zhou Lang said, "but this means there's something down there that even they're afraid of."

Zhao Qiang's face turned green: "Then are we still going in?"

"Otherwise, would you have come all this way for nothing?"

Zhou Lang walked to the wooden door and pushed it. The door wasn't locked and creaked open.

Inside was a small room, with framed pictures covering all four walls. The pictures weren't paintings, but photographs. Black and white photographs, the very old kind.

Zhou Lang leaned closer to take a look at one of them.

The photo shows a man in a tuxedo standing at the entrance of a manor, surrounded by a group of servants. The man looks young, in his early twenties, with a smile on his lips.

Below is a line of smaller print: First owner, Chen Xu, 1923.

"Is this the history of the manor?" Han Yingying walked over to take a look.

Zhou Lang didn't speak, his gaze sweeping over the other photos.

The second picture shows the same man, but older. He is now accompanied by a woman and two children. 1935.

The third picture shows the woman and child missing. The man sits in a chair, much thinner, with sunken eyes. 1941.

The fourth one onwards is incorrect.

The photo shows the same man, but he's standing in the basement—the very room now. There's a circle drawn on the floor in front of him, and something inside it is unclear.

1943 years.

In the fifth picture, the man is gone. The only thing in the photo is the circle, and inside the circle stands a dark shadow.

No date.

"What did this person summon?" Zhou Lang said.

Zhao Qiang leaned over for a glance, then withdrew, saying, "Don't look anymore, I don't think it's a good idea."

Zhou Lang ignored him and continued looking at the photos on the wall. The last few photos were all of different people, wearing clothes from different eras, but they all had one thing in common—in the last photo of each person, they were standing next to that circle.

There were seven people in total.

"Seven masters," Zhou Lang counted, "all died in this circle."

"So the heart of this manor is here?" Han Yingying asked.

Zhou Lang squatted down and lowered the oil lamp. Sure enough, there were marks on the ground, a circle about two meters in diameter, carved into the stone brick. The lines had been worn very shallow, but the shape was still discernible.

There are words inside the circle.

Zhou Lang extended the oil lamp forward, and the green light shone on the ground, making the words clearer.

It's neither Chinese nor English. I can't understand it.

But there is something in the very center of the circle.

A key.

It's black, made of iron, and two sizes larger than a regular key. A red thread is wrapped around the key, connecting it to a nail on the edge of a circle.

"Props?" Zhou Lang wondered to himself.

He reached out to take it.

"Wait!" Han Yingying called out to him, "That circle... what if it's a trap?"

Zhou Lang's hand froze in mid-air.

He thought for a moment, then took out scissors from his pocket and cut the red thread first.

Nothing happened.

Then he picked up the key.

The system notification popped up the moment my finger touched the key.

[Obtained Item: Manor Owner's Key]

[Note: This can open any door within the manor. Uses: 3]

"Not bad." Zhou Lang put the key into his inventory.

Zhao Qiang asked, "What is it?"

"A master key that can open the door three times."

"Wow, that's awesome." Zhao Qiang gave a thumbs up. "So, can we leave now? I'm getting chills down my spine from staying here too long."

Zhou Lang didn't move. He stared at the circle for a while, then looked up at the surrounding walls.

Opposite the photo wall, there is a door.

It's much smaller than the previous one, about half a person's height, and embedded in the base of the wall. If you don't look closely, it's easy to mistake it for part of the wall.

"There's another door there," Zhou Lang said.

Zhao Qiang's expression can be described in four words: Please don't go.

But Zhou Lang has already moved on.

The small door was locked. Zhou Lang glanced at it; the keyhole was different in shape from the key he had just received. It was an ordinary lock.

He took out the scissors and snipped them again.

The door opened.

It wasn't a room inside, but a narrow passageway that required bending over to walk through. Zhou Lang shone the oil lamp inside, the green light illuminating a distance of about five or six meters before reaching another door.

"You guys wait here," Zhou Lang said.

"No," Han Yingying said. "What if something happens?"

"This road is too narrow; three people can't squeeze through. If something happens, you won't be able to help. It's better to wait outside for them."

Han Yingying wanted to argue, but after looking at the narrow passage, she realized that it was indeed too narrow for two people to pass through.

"Five minutes," she said. "If you don't come out in five minutes, we'll come in and look for you."

Zhou Lang nodded, bent down, and crawled inside.

The air in the narrow passage was stagnant, and there was a rotten smell. Zhou Lang held his breath and walked forward; the light from the oil lamp was particularly glaring in the cramped space.

It's reached the end.

The door was ajar, and Zhou Lang pushed it open with his hand.

It was a very small room, about four or five square meters.

There was only one table in the room, and on the table was a booklet.

Zhou Lang walked over and opened it.

The first page had a few lines of writing, the handwriting crooked and messy:

"If you see this booklet, it means you're just like me, trapped in this damned manor."

"I am the sixth owner. I have discovered something."

"The butler is not the owner of this manor. The real owner is on the third floor."

"There's a locked room on the third floor, and something lives in that room. It was that thing that created the butler."

"Don't try to confront it head-on. It's an S-class anomaly."

"The only way is to use the manor owner's key to open the door on the third floor at 3 a.m. on the seventh day, when it is asleep."

"There's a mirror inside the door. Break the mirror, and the manor will collapse. Everyone who's still alive can leave."

"I didn't make it to the seventh day. Good luck to you."

There was no name at the end, only a date: the fifth day.

Zhou Lang closed the booklet.

It's the fourth night now.

Two more days.

He put the booklet into his inventory and turned to walk back. Zhao Qiang and Han Ying were still waiting outside, and they visibly breathed a sigh of relief when they saw him come out.

"What did you find?" Zhao Qiang asked.

Zhou Lang briefly explained the contents of the booklet.

Zhao Qiang's expression was priceless after hearing this: "An S-class anomaly? The three of us combined wouldn't even be enough to fill its teeth, would we?"

"No need to hit it," Zhou Lang said. "Just wait until it falls asleep, then open the door and smash the mirror."

"That sounds simple," Han Yingying frowned, "but that's on the condition that we survive to the seventh day."