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

"I thought it was just a dream, but when I checked my inventory, I found that there was an extra item in it."

"[Item: S-Rank Demon's Heart]"

"I don't know what this is, and I dare not use it."

"If anyone knows what this is, please tell me."

There were many replies under the post, but most of them questioned the poster.

[Is the original poster making up a story? The heart of an S-class demon? LOL.]

[Do people actually believe this kind of post?]

[I suggest you go write a novel, instead of lying to people here.]

However, a minority of people expressed their belief.

I've encountered a similar situation before, but I didn't dare take that thing.

[Be careful, OP. You can't just use S-rank ghost items casually.]

After reading the post, Zhou Lang fell into deep thought.

The heart of an S-class demon—that sounds dangerous.

But if it's true, then it means that S-class ghosts do exist, and they are different from ordinary ghosts.

Zhou Lang noted down the poster's ID and decided to contact him when he had the chance.

For the next three days, Zhou Lang was busy preparing.

He gathered intelligence on the forum, trained his body in the real world, and even took the time to study the manor key.

The key's function is simple: it allows entry into the haunted manor at any time.

But Zhou Lang doesn't plan to use it now; he wants to wait until he becomes stronger before going back.

Three days passed quickly.

On the third night, Zhou Lang lay in bed, waiting for the game to begin.

At midnight, the familiar notification sound rang.

[Horror Game Coming Soon]

[Matching for a dungeon...]

Match successful

【Instance Name: Mysterious Inn】

[Difficulty: Hard]

Number of players: 8

[Task: Survive in a guesthouse for seven days]

[WARNING: Do not leave the room at night]

A flash of white light, and Zhou Lang disappeared from the bed.

When Zhou Lang opened his eyes, he found himself standing on a mountain road.

The sky was dark, and in the distance stood an old building that looked like a guesthouse.

Zhou Lang looked around and noticed that other players were also appearing one after another.

There were eight people in total, both men and women, of varying ages.

Zhou Lang glanced around and noticed that Han Yingying was among them.

The two looked at each other but said nothing.

"Attention all players," a mechanical voice announced. "It is currently 5 PM, and there are two hours until nightfall. Please enter the inn and select your room before dark."

"Remember, don't leave the room at night."

After the sound disappeared, the players started discussing it.

"What kind of place is this?" a young man complained. "I thought it was a vacation spot."

"Enough talk, let's go inside," another middle-aged man said. "It's getting dark."

The players headed towards the guesthouse one after another, with Zhou Lang following at the back.

The guesthouse is a three-story building with mottled exterior walls and worn-out curtains hanging in the windows.

Pushing open the door, you'll find a small hall with a few tables and chairs, and some old photos hanging on the walls.

"Welcome." An old voice rang out.

Zhou Lang looked up and saw an old man standing at the top of the stairs.

The old man was probably in his seventies, with gray hair and a face covered in wrinkles. He was wearing a long gray coat. #Chapter 1

Ahead was a heavy iron gate, covered with strange symbols.

Zhou Lang raised the oil lamp, and the symbols writhed in the green light, like living things.

"These symbols..." Han Yingying stared at the door, "Where have I seen them before?"

"Never mind that." Zhou Lang pulled out his chainsaw. "Let's go inside and talk."

The roar of the chainsaw echoed through the basement, sparks flying everywhere. A gash was sawed open in the iron door, which Zhou Lang kicked open.

Behind the door was a room, completely empty except for a coffin placed in the center.

The coffin was black, with intricate patterns carved on its surface. Zhou Lang approached and noticed a keyhole on the coffin lid.

"Where's the key?" Zhao Qiang asked.

Zhou Lang felt in his pocket and took out the key he had taken from the butler's room. He inserted the key into the lock, and with a click, the coffin lid popped open.

There was a person lying inside.

No, it's a corpse.

The corpse was dressed in a butler's uniform and wore a mask. Zhou Lang reached out and removed the mask, revealing the face beneath.

It was a young face, with features somewhat resembling the butler's.

"This is..." Han Yingying covered her mouth.

"Kill the butler's son," Zhou Lang said. "Or rather, the real butler."

He rummaged through the body's pockets and found a note. The note contained a few lines of writing:

"My father went mad. He killed me and experimented on my body. He wanted to resurrect me, but failed. Now he continues to run this manor using my face. If anyone sees this note, please help me kill him. The key is..."

The writing at the end was blurry and illegible, making it impossible to decipher what was written.

Zhou Lang put the note away and turned to leave.

"Wait," Han Yingying called out to him, "Aren't you going to get involved in this?"

"What do you care?" Zhou Lang said without turning his head. "Our mission is to survive, not to be detectives."

"But…"

"There's no 'but' about it," Zhou Lang interrupted her. "The ghosts in this game all have stories. If you tried to manage every single one of them, you'd be dead eight hundred times over."

Han Yingying opened her mouth, but in the end, she didn't say anything.

The three returned to the first floor, where the ghosts in the corridor were still there. They looked at Zhou Lang with a different kind of expression in their eyes.

Fear? Or reverence?

Zhou Lang didn't want to think about it and went straight back to his room.

He closed the door, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

The face of that corpse flashed through my mind.

Young, clean-cut, and out of place in this manor.

Zhou Lang closed his eyes, forcing himself not to think about it.

The next morning, the butler appeared in the hall as usual.

"Today's job is to clean the third floor," it said. "No one has been on the third floor for a long time, and it's very dusty."

Zhou Lang took the broom and rag and went up to the third floor.

The corridor on the third floor was narrower than that on the first floor, with rows of tightly closed doors on both sides. Zhou Lang pushed open the first door, which led to a bedroom with a bed piled high with moldy blankets.

He began cleaning, his movements mechanical.

Halfway through cleaning, the door suddenly closed.

Zhou Lang turned around and saw a woman standing at the door.

The woman wore a long white dress, her hair was disheveled, and her face was deathly pale. She stared at Zhou Lang, and a slow, smirking smile spread across her face.

"Have you seen my son?" she asked.

Zhou Lang didn't speak, but gripped the broom tightly in his hand.

"You saw it," the woman smiled. "You went to the basement and saw my son."

"So what?" Zhou Lang said.

"Help me kill that monster," the woman said. "He killed my son and goes around using his face. I want him dead."

"On what grounds?"

"I can give you a reward," the woman said. "I know what you want. You want to find your sister, right?"

Zhou Lang's hand tightened.

"I can tell you where she is," the woman said, "if you help me kill that monster."

Zhou Lang stared at her for a long while before finally speaking: "How do you know about my sister?"

"This manor knows a lot," the woman said. "It knows what everyone who comes in wants."