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

Zhou Lang naturally found it strange. In an S-rank dungeon, the probability of the system randomly assigning teammates was really that high? Two members of the second-ranked guild were simultaneously assigned to the same team?

He did not comment.

"Alright, since we're teammates, let's cooperate." Zhao Qiang said casually, "What are your fighting styles? That'll help us divide the tasks."

Lu Yuan took something out of his pocket—a copper coin tied with a red string.

"It's an auxiliary type," he said. "My ghost artifact is this; it can interfere with a ghost's perception for a short period of time."

Where is Lin Ke?

Lin Ke finally spoke, her voice even colder than her expression: "Close combat."

He stopped talking after that.

Zhao Qiang turned to look at Zhou Lang and winked, meaning: These two are a bit difficult to deal with.

Zhou Lang ignored him. He was observing the surroundings of the hall.

The hospital lobby is very large, with a corridor extending out on both the left and right sides in addition to the reception desk. Directly in front is an elevator with its doors closed, and next to it is the entrance to the stairwell.

A dungeon quest popped up on the system panel.

[Instance Quest]

Main mission: Find the body of the person who fell from the building and return it to the morgue.

Side quest: ?

Note: This hospital was closed ten years ago due to a series of falls from its buildings. There was more than one person who fell.

"The body of the person who fell..." Zhao Qiang muttered, "How many floors does this hospital have?"

Zhou Lang walked to the front desk and flipped through it. Underneath the dust was a hospital floor plan.

"There are twelve floors above ground and two floors below ground. The morgue is on the first basement floor."

Zhao Qiang's face fell: "The twelfth floor..."

"Should we take the stairs or the elevator?" Han Yingying asked.

"Do you think it's safe to take the elevator in a place like this?" Zhou Lang asked.

"Too."

The five people headed towards the stairwell. Zhou Lang walked in front, with Zhao Qiang bringing up the rear. Han Yingying was in the middle, with Lu Yuan and Lin Ke walking in front of and behind her. Lu Yuan had taken the initiative to stand in this position, which Zhou Lang noticed.

He was protecting Lin Ke. Or rather, he was positioning Lin Ke in a way that facilitated her actions.

For ease of action—to deal with ghosts? Or to deal with teammates?

Zhou Lang suppressed the thought. There was no evidence at the moment.

The stairwell was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Yellowed and curled fire safety notices were pasted on the walls, and several medical records were scattered on the floor.

Upon reaching the second floor, a strange odor wafted from the corridor.

It wasn't the smell of decay. It was the smell of disinfectant. A strong, pungent smell of disinfectant.

"There's something." The bandaged man's voice echoed in Zhou Lang's mind.

Zhou Lang raised the chainsaw, signaling everyone to stop.

There's something at the end of the corridor.

A human figure—no, a corpse. Hanging from the ceiling chandelier, its neck twisted at an unnatural angle, its limbs dangling, like a giant doll.

But its eyes were open.

And they are watching them.

"Was that the person who fell from the building?" Zhao Qiang asked.

"The person who fell should be near the ground," Han Yingying said. "This one is on the second floor... that doesn't seem right."

The corpse suddenly laughed.

Its mouth stretched into a wide grin, all the way to its ears. Then its feet detached from the chandelier and landed steadily on the ground.

It stood up.

His joints were twisted as he walked towards them step by step.

Without hesitation, Zhou Lang turned the chainsaw up to its maximum speed.

"Zhao Qiang on the left, Han Yingying retreat to provide support," he shouted, and then charged forward.

The chainsaw chain sliced ​​into the corpse's shoulder. No blood spurted out—only dry, gray powder. The corpse, cut in half, continued to move forward, its other hand reaching for Zhou Lang's face.

Zhou Lang dodged to the side and kicked it in the chest. It took two steps back, making a hoarse sound.

Zhao Qiang's sledgehammer came crashing down from the side. With a deafening boom, half of the corpse's body shattered.

But the broken pieces began to wriggle on the ground, trying to piece themselves back together.

"It can regenerate!" Han Yingying shouted from behind. "We need to find its core!"

Zhou Lang pulled out his cane and precisely pierced the center of the corpse's chest cavity with the tip of the cane.

There was something inside—hard, like a stone.

He used his strength to pry it out.

A black bead with cracks on its surface, through which you can vaguely see something flowing.

The corpse stopped moving. The shattered parts ceased wriggling; it was truly "dead."

"What is this?" Zhao Qiang leaned closer to take a look.

"Fragments of the dungeon core?" Han Yingying guessed.

Zhou Lang didn't speak. He put the black bead into his pocket, then turned to look behind him—

Lu Yuan and Lin Ke stood still, without moving an inch.

Throughout the entire battle, neither of them did anything.

Zhao Qiang noticed it too, and his expression darkened: "Hey, you two—"

"Sorry," Lu Yuan said, his tone devoid of apology. "I was observing its attack patterns. The three of you handled it very quickly; I didn't have time to provide support."

Lin Ke didn't even bother to explain, and instead examined her dagger against the wall.

Zhao Qiang wanted to say something, but Zhou Lang stopped him.

"Don't make a sound," Zhou Lang said in a low voice. "Just keep an eye on them."

Zhao Qiang snorted and remained silent.

The five people continued walking uphill.

I didn't encounter any ghosts from the third to the fifth floor, but there were strange marks in the corridors of each floor—black handprints on the walls, drag marks on the floor, and cracks in the windows that had been broken from the inside.

Upon reaching the sixth floor, Han Yingying suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" Zhou Lang turned around.

Han Yingying stood in the middle of the corridor, her expression somewhat strange. She looked at the door of a ward on the sixth floor, the nameplate on the door reading "602".

"I've been here before," she said.

"What?"

"I've been here before," Han Yingying repeated, her voice slightly unsteady. "This room... I've been inside it."

Zhou Lang walked up to her: "Are you sure? This is a virtual space, not a real hospital."

"I know. But I'm sure." Han Yingying's hand rested on the doorknob. "Room 602. I remember there was a bed in there, a bouquet of lilies on the bedside table, and blue curtains."

Zhou Lang looked at her but did not stop her.

Han Yingying pushed open the door.

There was indeed only one bed in the ward. A bunch of withered lilies sat on the bedside table. The curtains were blue and faded.

Han Yingying stood at the door, her body trembling slightly.

"I remember now," she said softly. "I remember something."

"What is it?"

"I used to be a patient at this hospital." Han Yingying turned to look at Zhou Lang, her expression complex. "But that must have been... ten years ago."

Ten years ago.

The hospital was closed ten years ago due to a series of falls from buildings.

Zhou Lang and Han Yingying stared at each other for a few seconds.

"How old are you this year?" he asked.

"Twenty-three."

"Ten years ago you were thirteen. A thirteen-year-old girl living in this hospital?"

Han Yingying shook her head: "I don't remember why I lived here. I only remember this room and that bouquet of lilies."

"Interesting," the bandaged man said, only Zhou Lang could hear. "Her amnesia is related to this instance. You'd better figure out who she is, or you might die in here."