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

"If something unexpected happens the night after tomorrow," he said, "you take Zhao Qiang and jump out of the first-floor window. There's a path outside the garden wall; follow it to the manor gate."

"And you?"

"I have a way."

Han Yingying looked at him for a few seconds: "It's always the same thing."

Zhou Lang didn't reply and turned to go upstairs.

Han Yingying stood in the corridor, watching his figure disappear around the corner of the stairs.

What is this person thinking? Is he not afraid of death? Or does he have some trump card that others don't know about?

She was certain. But one thing she was certain of—if something happened the day after tomorrow, she wouldn't abandon him and run away.

The sixth day passed quickly.

Zhou Lang was assigned to clean the second floor and didn't go up to the third floor. He worked very diligently, and the housekeeper came to inspect twice during the work session, and each time he was still diligently wiping the floor.

The butler didn't say anything more, nor did he pass any more notes.

Xiong Batian must have done something wrong today. When he got paid tonight, his performance review dropped to "average," and he only received 100 yuan. He cursed as he went back to his room, slamming the door so loudly that the whole building could hear it.

Zhou Lang received 500 yuan, and with what he had before, he now has 200 yuan in his hands.

He had no idea what he could buy with that money in the game. He also couldn't find where the shop was.

Forget it, let's clear the game first.

At 10:30 p.m., Zhou Lang lay in bed with his eyes closed.

He wasn't asleep; he was waiting.

The sound of the wind in the corridor gradually picked up, then slowly subsided. The ghosts circled around once, then dispersed.

11 o'clock. 12 o'clock. 1 o'clock. 2 o'clock.

2:45.

Zhou Lang opened his eyes, got out of bed, and put on his shoes.

He didn't light an oil lamp, and opened the door in the dark. The corridor was pitch black, he couldn't see anything, and there was no sound at all.

Where's the ghost?

Zhou Lang took out an oil lamp and lit it.

The green light illuminated the corridor—it was empty. Not a single ghost was there.

His heart skipped a beat.

Every night before, the hallway was packed with ghosts. The fact that there wasn't a single one today can only mean one thing.

They were taken back.

The booklet said that thing would go into a deep sleep at 3:00 AM. It's 2:45 now, so it seems to have entered a deep sleep early, and everything belonging to it has stopped moving.

This includes killing the butler.

Zhou Lang walked quickly to Zhao Qiang's room and knocked lightly twice.

The door opened immediately. Zhao Qiang was dressed neatly, holding a candle in his hand.

"You're not asleep either?" Zhou Lang asked.

"You think I can sleep after you take action tonight?" Zhao Qiang's voice was very low. "What about Han Yingying?"

"I'm here." Han Yingying came out from the room next door, looking just as ready.

Without further ado, the three of them went straight upstairs.

From the first floor to the second floor, and from the second floor to the third floor.

Zhou Lang walked ahead, the green light of the oil lamp flickering in the narrow stairwell. The entire building was unnaturally quiet; not even the wind could be heard.

Third floor corridor.

Zhou Lang spotted the door to room 304 at a glance.

The black mark under the door crack was gone.

"It's really asleep," Zhao Qiang whispered.

Zhou Lang walked to the door of room 304 and took the key out of his inventory.

The black iron key looked heavy under the green light. He inserted the key into the lock.

Click.

The lock is open.

[Manor Owner's Key: 2 uses remaining]

Zhou Lang gripped the doorknob and glanced back at Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying.

"Once you're inside, find the mirror and smash it. Don't stop no matter what you see."

The two nodded.

Zhou Lang pushed open the door.

There was darkness behind the door.

It wasn't ordinary darkness. The green light from the oil lamp shone in, but was swallowed up, only illuminating a distance of two or three steps from the doorway.

Zhou Lang stepped inside.

My feet were stepping on a carpet, a very thick carpet. There was an indescribable smell in the air, not rotten, but... sweet.

"Stay close to me," he said in a low voice.

The three men sneaked into the room.

After walking about ten steps, Zhou Lang's oil lamp finally illuminated something.

a mirror.

An oval-shaped full-length mirror stands in the center of the room. The frame is black, and the mirror itself…

There's something in the mirror.

It's not a reflection. It's a black, flowing mass that's slowly wriggling inside the mirror.

"This is it." Zhou Lang took out a chainsaw.

He flipped the switch.

The chainsaw didn't make a sound.

Zhou Lang pressed the button again. Still no sound.

He looked down—there was an extra line of red text on the chainsaw's instruction manual:

[Warning: A strong and unusual magnetic field exists in the current area; mechanical items cannot be activated.]

"Damn it." Zhou Lang put the chainsaw away.

Zhao Qiang, standing behind, asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

"The chainsaw won't work."

"Then what should we use to smash it?"

Zhou Lang glanced around his inventory. Scissors? Too small; this mirror is taller than him. Oil lamp? If he smashes the mirror with the oil lamp, he'll have no light.

He looked around.

Besides the mirror, there were other things in the room. The outlines of some furniture could be vaguely seen in the darkness.

"Check if there's anything heavy," Zhou Lang said.

The three of them split up and explored.

Han Yingying touched a table with a vase on it. She picked it up and weighed it in her hand; it was quite heavy.

"Will this work?"

"Try it first."

Han Yingying carried the vase to the front of the mirror, raised it, and smashed it down.

bang——

The vase broke.

The mirror wasn't broken.

There wasn't even a crack on the mirror surface.

"Ordinary things can't be broken." Zhou Lang stared at the mirror for a few seconds.

The black thing in the mirror moved slightly.

Zhao Qiang's voice began to tremble: "Is it about to wake up?"

Zhou Lang thought for a moment.

Ordinary objects can't be broken, and mechanical tools are unusable. That leaves only one solution.

Game props.

He browsed through his inventory.

The key has two uses left out of its three.

Scissors--

Zhou Lang took out the scissors and read the instructions.

[Scissors: Can cut the connection between any item other than SS-rank or higher. Uses: Unlimited]

He used it to cut locks and red threads, and never thought of using it to cut anything else.

But can a mirror be cut?

Zhou Lang walked to the mirror, opened the scissors, aimed them at the mirror, and slammed them shut.

Click.

A crack appeared on the mirror.

It extends from the very center to the edge.

"It works!" Zhao Qiang shouted.

The black mass in the mirror began to churn violently.

Zhou Lang didn't stop. He made another cut.

The second crack.

The third cut. The fourth cut.

With each cut, a new crack appeared on the mirror's surface, and the thing inside churned more and more violently.

On the fifth cut, the entire mirror began to vibrate.

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped.

Han Yingying and Zhao Qiang both shuddered at the same time.

The sixth cut.

The mirror was now covered in a dense network of cracks, like a spider web. The black mass had stopped churning and began to squeeze into the cracks.

A long, thin, black finger emerged from the largest crack.

"Quick!" Han Yingying shouted.

Zhou Lang raised the scissors and made the final cut.

Click.

The mirror is broken.

It wasn't just ordinary shattering. Instead of scattering the shards, the entire mirror collapsed from the middle, as if sucked away from behind by something. The fragments, the frame, and that black mass were all drawn into an invisible vortex.