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

Five minutes later, he fell asleep.

The bandaged man remained silent, clinging to his arm without uttering a sound.

At seven o'clock the next morning, Zhou Lang got up on time.

I washed up, ate breakfast, and headed out with my drawing board. I bought the drawing board online last night; it was delivered expedited. Inside were a few pencils and a stack of sketch paper—it looked presentable.

At 8:00 AM sharp, at Yuping Town Bus Station.

A minibus was parked outside the station, with the words "Linyang Academy of Fine Arts" painted on its side. A dozen or so young people, all in their early twenties, were loading their luggage onto the bus, carrying their sketchbooks and chattering away.

A girl wearing a baseball cap noticed Zhou Lang and walked over: "Are you...Teacher Zhou?"

Zhou Lang was stunned for a moment.

"It was arranged by the investigation team. They said an external teacher would be going with us," the girl explained. "My name is Lin Xiaolu, and I'm the person in charge of this sketching trip."

"A hired teacher," Zhou Lang cursed inwardly. His cover identity had been upgraded from freelance painter to teacher; now he had to act even more convincingly.

"Yes, I am Zhou Lang."

"Teacher Zhou looks about the same age as us," a boy next to him said.

"I look young," Zhou Lang said without changing his expression.

Lin Xiaolu smiled and said, "Get in the car, any seat will do. It'll take about three hours to get to Yuping Town."

Zhou Lang got on the bus and found a seat towards the back.

The minibus bumped and jolted its way out of the city. The students on board were quite lively; some were chatting, some were listening to music with headphones, and two had already taken out their sketchbooks to draw the scenery outside the window.

No one resembled a player.

Zhou Lang confirmed this. These students were all ordinary people, unaware that they were about to enter a terrifying instance.

"They're bait," the bandaged man whispered, only Zhou Lang could hear him.

Zhou Lang didn't respond. He knew. The Administration couldn't possibly be unaware that these students would enter the instance, yet they still allowed them to go.

Firstly, certain conditions need to be met to trigger the instance – the guesthouse will only activate when tenants check in. Secondly, the reactions of ordinary people entering the instance can serve as reference data.

Cold-blooded, but effective.

"You're planning to protect them?" the bandaged man asked.

"I'll try my best," Zhou Lang said, "but I'm not even sure if I can survive seven days."

The three-hour drive was uneventful. Zhou Lang closed his eyes to rest for a while, then took out the documents and read them twice more.

At 11:30 a.m., the minibus entered Yuping Town.

The town is small, with a main street running north to south, lined with low-rise buildings on both sides. There aren't many people on the street, and the pace of life is slow. A few small shops are open, and the shop owners sit in their doorways, basking in the sun.

It looks like a normal small town.

But Zhou Lang noticed a detail—there were no children on the street.

not a single one.

The minibus stopped at the end of the main street.

"We're here," Lin Xiaolu called out as she stood up.

Zhou Lang got off the bus with the students and looked up at the building in front of him.

The three-story building has white-painted exterior walls and gray-tiled roof. A wooden sign hangs at the entrance—"Yunlaiju" (Cloud Comes Residence). The lettering is faded, indicating it's quite old.

A middle-aged woman stood at the door, wearing a floral apron and with her hair pulled back, smiling as she greeted them.

"You must be art students? Welcome, you must have had a long journey."

Lin Xiaolu stepped forward to greet them: "Hello, we contacted each other by phone before and booked eight rooms."

"Yes, everything is ready." The woman warmly invited everyone in. "My surname is Chen, you can just call me Sister Chen. Come in and have some water, my husband will help you with your luggage."

Zhou Lang followed behind, sizing up the woman.

He looked to be in his early forties, with an ordinary face and a kind smile. His hands were calloused, and his nails were cut very short, clearly indicating that he was someone who did housework year-round.

There were a few fresh oil stains on the apron—it must have just come out of the kitchen.

That's normal. Absolutely normal.

"Is she a ghost?" Zhou Lang asked the bandaged man in his mind.

"I can't sense it during the day," the bandaged man replied, "but I have a very uncomfortable feeling. Something's wrong with the whole town."

Zhou Lang walked into the lobby of the guesthouse.

The room wasn't very large, with a few sets of tables and chairs, and several landscape photos hanging on the walls, all depicting scenes around Yuping Town. Behind the reception desk was a wooden shelf with room keys on it.

A man in his forties, slightly overweight, wearing a white vest and a towel draped over his shoulder came down the stairs.

"This is my husband, Lao Chen," Sister Chen introduced.

Old Chen nodded to everyone, said little, and started helping to move the luggage.

The students sat down in twos and threes to drink water and chat. Zhou Lang didn't sit down, but instead walked around the lobby.

There was a magazine rack in the corner with several old newspapers on it. He picked one up and glanced at the date—it was three months old.

The registration book at the front desk was open, and Zhou Lang glanced at it. It contained the registration information of previous guests, but strangely, there were no records for the past month.

"Teacher Zhou?" Lin Xiaolu called out to him, "You've been assigned room 301 on the third floor, the one further inside."

"OK."

Zhou Lang took the keys and went upstairs. The stairs were made of wood and creaked when stepped on. There were four rooms on each side of the second-floor corridor, where the students lived. The third floor had only three rooms: 301, 302, and 303.

Room 301 was at the very end of the corridor. Zhou Lang opened the door to find a standard room of about ten square meters, containing a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. The window faced north, offering a view of a patch of wasteland behind it.

He put down his easel and backpack and checked every corner of the room. The windows could be locked from the inside, and the door locks were old-fashioned spring locks, not very sturdy.

"This lock can't keep ghosts out," the bandaged man said.

"Nonsense," Zhou Lang replied. He took out a defensive talisman from his backpack and stuck it on the inside of the door frame.

"Keep it; it should be fine on the first day," the bandaged man said.

"What if?" Zhou Lang didn't tear it off.

He then checked the windows, faucets, and drains. The bathroom drain opening wasn't large, but it was big enough for a hand to fit through. Zhou Lang found a towel and plugged the drain.

After doing all that, he went downstairs.

In the lobby, the students were discussing the afternoon's plans.

"In the afternoon, we'll first go outside town to scout out the terrain and find suitable spots for sketching," Lin Xiaolu said. "We'll split into several groups and have free time. Dinner will be at six o'clock; Sister Chen said she'll make it for us."

"Teacher Zhou, do you have any plans this afternoon?" a boy wearing glasses asked. His name was Fang Chen, and he looked quite clever.

"I'll just wander around," Zhou Lang said.

He needs to investigate the town during the day.

After leaving the guesthouse, Zhou Lang headed towards the main street. The town was indeed small; it would take about half an hour to walk around it. He kept an eye on the pedestrians on the street.

There were elderly and middle-aged people. Young people could be seen occasionally. But there wasn't a single child.

Moreover—these people are all very quiet.

It's not that they don't talk. Two old men are playing chess, exchanging a few words occasionally. The grocer is tidying the shelves, humming a tune. They all seem normal.

But Zhou Lang felt that something was wrong.

He went into a grocery store and bought a bottle of water.