“Soraka Town.”
Zhou Kai committed the name to memory, planning to look it up online once he escaped the nightmare.
The recognizable architectural style and writing that existed in reality made him certain this damned place was inextricably linked to the real world.
He picked up the oil lamp from the ground and held it in his hand. The light source immediately stabilized.
Zhou Kai carefully surveyed his surroundings and discovered that, not far away, beneath the monster he had dismembered, the pool of filthy blood was still slowly spreading, its edges even carrying a trace of abnormal warmth.
That meant that when he returned to reality, time here came to a standstill.
“It’s a good thing, and a bad thing.”
Time standing still meant that within the area he could observe, no unexpected changes would occur.
But by the same token, if danger was closing in, there would be no avoiding it.
Huff…
He took a deep breath. The air he exhaled from his nose and mouth turned into a white mist in the cold, gloomy environment.
It seemed that even thick clothing could not block out this damp chill, this cold that felt as though it could burrow into his bones.
Earlier, his body had continued to weaken; aside from the penalty of death, it was most likely also because he had been eroded by the eerie environment here.
This time, he had to stay in the dream longer. The cold and damp were problems he absolutely had to solve.
“Lighting the fireplace is imperative.”
Carrying the oil lamp, he approached the fireplace. Light shone into the pitch-black hearth.
The dim yellow glow outlined the jagged white bones within, casting bizarre shadows across the soot-blackened inner wall.
Zhou Kai tried tearing down the tablecloth beside him, stuffing it inside, and setting it alight.
Crackle, crackle… hiss.
The flame struggled weakly for a moment, then quickly went out.
It was the same when he switched to dry wooden furniture.
[Not suitable. Keep looking.]
Subtitles popped up over the fireplace.
Zhou Kai froze for a moment. Fine.
It seemed the next objective was very clear: explore the first floor of this house, find suitable fuel, and light the fireplace.
He felt around for a while.
Then he suddenly remembered that the bloodstained axe had already been automatically stored in the “Items” column of his panel when he returned last time.
It was like spending ten minutes looking for your phone, only to suddenly realize it had been in your hand the whole time.
Zhou Kai scratched his head, took out the axe, and gripped it in his hand. It felt much more comfortable to use than before.
This was thanks to him going all in and raising Comprehensive Combat to level 2. His strength and coordination had both improved by a fair margin.
They had faintly surpassed even his physical condition before he was eroded.
But he still had to be careful.
Among the monsters here, aside from the “Failed Experiment,” there probably wasn’t anyone weaker than him in terms of strength.
“Let’s check the study first.”
After killing that monster, Zhou Kai still had not entered the study.
Generally speaking, a place guarded by a monster ought to have something good in it.
Walking toward the study entrance, this time, he had the leisure to observe more carefully.
On the wall to the right of the study, connected to the staircase leading to the second floor, hung a rooster-shaped wall lamp. Its belly was empty, with no wick inside.
When he leaned closer and sniffed, there was always a strange smell like ozone mixed with scorched hair.
Beneath the lamp hung three individual photographs framed in violet-patterned frames: two men and one woman.
Half of the glass over the woman’s frame was shattered, and her face had been slashed into a mess, as if someone had clawed at it madly with their fingernails in a fit of rage.
As for the men’s frames, one was clean, while the other was covered in a thick layer of dust.
Zhou Kai examined them carefully. The dusty one was perhaps the elder brother: bald, bearded, and very large in build.
“Were they the original owners here? Did one of them turn into a monster?”
Zhou Kai memorized the two faces. If he could find information in reality, this would be an important clue.
The study was not large, just over ten square meters. A bookshelf had fallen over, making the interior feel extremely cramped.
Zhou Kai made as little noise as possible as he squeezed inside and looked around.
Most of the books had been soaked through by some kind of liquid. Either they could not be opened, or the writing had blurred into an unreadable mess.
There were a few sheets of letter paper on the desk. Though they were stuck to the surface and could not be removed, the handwriting was still fairly clear.
Zhou Kai stood still and read them word by word.
[The fog is too thick. I tried to follow Sir Sullivan’s carriage down the mountain, but we lost our way in the forest.]
[My dear (obscured by stains), I miss you very much. Are you doing well in ▇▇▇▇? Once I finish my work, I’ll come over as soon as possible.]
[…]
[They told me to stay at home as much as possible, and not to go out at night if I can help it… but damn it, every day lately has been night!]
[Sir Sullivan is a biologist. He gave me a set of microscopes… How can there be so many eggs in the rainwater?]
[▓▓▓ gave me a packet of seeds. That plant can resist ▓▓▓. If I can hold on for a while longer, I’ll find a way to send the seeds to you.]
The more Zhou Kai read, the darker his gaze became.
“Every day is night,” “eggs in the rainwater,” “a plant that can resist something”…
The amount of information contained in these letters was enormous.
Click.
Zhou Kai reached out and pulled open a drawer. Inside were several jars of ink and a glass bottle containing some scale-like seeds.
[Shriveled Seeds (Upgradeable)]
An entry appeared, but there seemed to be nothing unusual about them.
The desk had three drawers. The other two contained a pile of blank letter paper and a rather antique optical microscope, respectively.
Zhou Kai only took the seeds with him.
The items he carried on him could only enter the panel once he returned to reality. In the dream, once he took something out, he could only carry it on his person… and could not put it back in.
He continued reading, hoping to find information about fuel.
[Lanze brought back a stranger. Perhaps he came from the north… He died after only a few days.]
[Oh, I am repenting. We should not have done that.]
The contents of the letter paper ended there.
Zhou Kai placed the oil lamp on the desk and continued rummaging through the cramped study, hoping to find any overlooked clues.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered cheerfully, very bright.
As he searched, an absurd thought suddenly nailed his feet to the spot.
The desk was too messy.
He thought: I have to tidy it up.
The thought came without the slightest reason, yet his hand disobeyed him and reached for that fountain pen.
“Something’s wrong.” Alarm bells went off in his mind. “I’m not here to do housekeeping!”
But his body had already sat down. His fingers twisted open the ink bottle, as if pulled by invisible strings.
He watched helplessly as his own hand raised the fountain pen and aimed it at his forearm.
His pupils abruptly contracted. He focused the will of his entire body on resisting this inexplicable action, but his body did not move in the slightest. It had become a prison occupied by an outside will.
“Fuck!”
The instant the pen tip was about to pierce his skin, Zhou Kai violently broke free of the restraint.
He stiffly raised his head and looked toward the window half-blocked by the bookshelf.
First, he saw a small patch of white mist produced by breathing, appearing and disappearing on the glass.
Then, a face pressed itself there.
A boneless, deathly pale face like a risen pancake, its eyes two pitch-black holes, while the corners of its mouth split open at an impossible angle as it smiled silently at him.
Huff, huff.
Zhou Kai’s heart went utterly cold. With a burst of strength from nowhere, he grabbed the fountain pen and was about to hurl it over.
But at the instant the pen was about to leave his hand, he desperately twisted his wrist, forcibly changing its direction.
The fountain pen, weighing over a hundred grams, ultimately struck the bookshelf with a muffled thud.
He had lost control again just now…
Zhou Kai’s expression was hideous to the extreme.
Its trick having failed, the pallid face outside the window instantly twisted and began to scream soundlessly.
Temporarily freed from control, Zhou Kai struggled to pick up the oil lamp and staggered in a mad dash out of the study.
That bastard!
The guy who wrote these letters was absolutely the number one bastard under heaven!
There was a window in the study that let in light, and he’d even fucking hidden it behind the bookshelf on purpose!