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

After Li Feng finished speaking, no one in the crowd spoke. 5000 points of mysterious power were tempting, but one had to be alive to spend them.

Han Yingying stood beside Zhou Lang, looking down at her hands. Last night, she woke up in her rented room with a dream. In the dream, she wasn't in the abandoned mountain villa, but standing in a square filled with bones. She held a white staff in her hand. The feeling was familiar. After waking up, she checked the forums, but found nothing. She wanted to figure out if she had forgotten something.

The gate opened. The sound of the iron gate scraping against the ground was grating.

Li Feng waved his hand, and the soldiers made way for him.

More than fifty players went in. Zhou Lang walked in front, Zhao Qiang followed behind, and Han Yingying walked at the very back.

As soon as I stepped through the gate, the scenery changed. The sunlight outside disappeared. The factory was filled with a gray fog.

Looking back, the gate was gone. Only a concrete wall remained.

Zhou Lang stopped. He noticed that fewer people were around him. Originally there were more than fifty people, but now only five remained.

Besides Zhao Qiang and Han Yingying, there were two other men they didn't recognize. One was a middle-aged, balding man wearing a jacket. The other had dyed blond hair and was very thin.

"The space has been divided," the bandaged man spoke in Zhou Lang's mind. "This is standard procedure for four-star dungeons. Scatter the players and defeat them one by one."

Zhou Lang remained silent. He picked up the chainsaw and looked around. This was an assembly line workshop. The conveyor belt was covered in dark red stains.

The bald man leaned over and offered a cigarette: "Brother, my name is Ma Jianguo, people call me Lao Ma. This is Liu Wei. We've been assigned together, want to team up?"

Zhou Lang didn't take the cigarette: "Zhou Lang."

Zhao Qiang said in a muffled voice, "Zhao Qiang. This is Han Yingying."

Old Ma put away his cigarette, his eyes sweeping over Zhou Lang's chainsaw. He mentally assessed the situation: these three men weren't very old. The kid with the chainsaw looked a bit reckless. The big guy seemed strong. The woman was probably a burden. If danger arose, he'd have these three hold the line while he and Liu Wei tried to escape.

Liu Wei stood silently to the side. He held a rusty iron hammer in his hand, which was trembling.

"Let's go," Zhou Lang said. His goal was clear: find the core and get 5000 points of cunning. As for the low-level monsters on the periphery, he would avoid them if possible; killing them would be a waste of energy.

The five people walked forward along the conveyor belt. The soles of their shoes made a sticky sound as they stepped on the ground.

After walking for two minutes, a dark figure appeared ahead.

The dark figure had its back to them and was gnawing on something on the conveyor belt. The chewing sounds were loud.

"A stitched corpse." Zhou Lang recognized it. The intelligence report stated that this was the most basic monster in the dungeon, pieced together from several corpses.

Old Ma stopped, took a half-step back, and lowered his voice: "Young man, you take the chainsaw, you go ahead?"

Zhou Lang ignored him. He pressed the switch on the chainsaw.

The sound of motors filled the empty workshop.

The stitched-up corpse turned its head. Three eyes were sewn onto its face, and half of its jaw had been removed.

Zhou Lang charged forward. He raised the chainsaw horizontally and sliced ​​directly at the stitched-up corpse's neck.

The saw blade touched the flesh, and black blood spurted out, splashing onto the iron frame next to it.

The stitched-up corpse wasn't dead. Its left hand held a rusty kitchen knife, which it aimed directly at Zhou Lang's shoulder.

Zhou Lang turned his head to dodge. The cleaver struck his clothes, tearing the fabric and leaving a bloody gash.

Zhou Lang pressed down hard on the chainsaw. The sound of bones breaking rang out. The stitched-up corpse's head fell to the ground. The headless body swayed twice and then collapsed.

Zhou Lang turned off the chainsaw and touched his shoulder. The wound wasn't deep, but it hurt a little.

Old Ma and Liu Wei stood behind, motionless. Old Ma swallowed hard. This kid's a madman. Who goes straight for hand-to-hand combat?

Han Yingying stepped forward. She raised her right hand and placed it on Zhou Lang's shoulder.

A green light shone from her palm.

The wound on Zhou Lang's shoulder began to heal. In less than ten seconds, the bleeding stopped and the skin was fully healed.

Liu Wei stared at Han Yingying's hand and said, "I've seen this skill of yours before."

Han Yingying turned to look at him.

"I've seen her in the videos on the forum," Liu Wei said. "There's a pro player who cleared an S-rank dungeon, codenamed 'White Night.' Her skill is emitting green light; she can even reattach severed hands. You're a lot like her."

Several images flashed through Han Yingying's mind: a white staff, a hand glowing green, and a monster lying on the ground.

She shook her head. Her head was a little sore.

Zhou Lang looked at her: "Are you alright?"

Han Yingying withdrew her hand: "It's nothing."

Zhou Lang didn't ask any further questions. He knew Han Yingying had a secret. Everyone has secrets. He himself still had the image of the bandaged man residing in his mind. As long as Han Yingying didn't harm him, he didn't care who she was.

"Keep going." Zhou Lang shrugged and walked forward.

Old Ma leaned closer to Liu Wei and whispered, "What did you just say about a big shot?"

"Bai Ye," Liu Wei said, "but that Bai Ye wears a mask, so I don't know what he looks like. Maybe they just have similar skills."

Watching Zhou Lang and Han Yingying's retreating figures, Old Ma changed his mind. These two were something else. Following them might actually help them survive.

The workshop was dimly lit. The overhead incandescent bulbs flickered.

The further you go, the more bloodstains you see on the ground.

Zhou Lang stopped in front of a metal cabinet. The cabinet door was ajar. Inside was a skeleton. The skeleton was dressed in a modern security guard uniform.

"This copy has been around for a long time," Zhou Lang said.

Zhao Qiang leaned over for a look: "The security guards have all been eaten clean."

"This is a massive dungeon," the bandaged man thought to himself. "The monsters on the outside are just appetizers. The real trouble is inside."

Zhou Lang took out an oil lamp from his backpack and lit it. The dim light illuminated an area of ​​about five meters ahead.

Old Ma's eyes lit up as he looked at the oil lamp. This was a ghost artifact. A ghost artifact capable of dispelling fog. This kid really knew his stuff.

"There's a sound ahead," Han Yingying said, pointing to an iron gate on the right.

A dull thud came from behind the door. Once, then twice.

Zhou Lang walked over and pressed his ear against the door.

The crashing sound stopped.

The door handle turns.

Zhou Lang took two steps back and raised the chainsaw.

The door opened. A monster over two meters tall stepped out.

It has no head. It has a huge mouth on its chest. Its two hands are enormous iron hooks.

"A three-star monster. A stitched corpse demon." Zhou Lang recognized its identity.

The intelligence report said that this thing is very strong, and its iron hook can easily tear steel plates.

Old Ma turned and ran. He ran behind the conveyor belt and crouched down.

Liu Wei wanted to run, but his legs went weak and he stood still.

The Stitched Corpse Demon saw them. Its massive maw opened, letting out a roar. It raised its right iron hook and swung it at Liu Wei, who was closest to it.

Liu Wei closed his eyes.

"clang!"

The sound of metal clashing.

Zhao Qiang stood in front of Liu Wei, holding up a thick steel pipe with both hands to block the iron hook.

Zhao Qiang's arm muscles bulged. He activated "Strength Enhancement".

"Get out of the way!" Zhao Qiang shouted through gritted teeth.

Liu Wei scrambled backward.

Zhou Lang charged in from the side. The chainsaw sliced ​​towards the monster's left leg.