Chapter 10

The last of them gathered as many blood packs with various components as they could carry, filling their backpacks to the brim before moving on.

 

“I still think fresh blood is best,” Dr. Lu muttered under his breath.

 

“Don’t even think about it!” Qi Leren shot him a sideways glare, adamantly refusing to be the one to donate blood.

 

“We should test the plasma’s effectiveness,” Su He said calmly, pointing to the circular corridor ahead. “See that white shadow over there? We could try it out.”

 

The others looked up. The corridor’s courtyard-like structure provided a clear view of the fleeting white shadow across the opposite passage. But that wasn’t all. Shadows everywhere teemed with restless presences—some blending seamlessly with the darkness, lurking in the shadows, their gazes cold and furtive.

 

*Had there been this many all along without us noticing?*

 

A chill ran down Qi Leren’s spine, and he fought the urge to glance behind him.

 

As they rounded half the corridor, they could see the electronic bulletin board in the first-floor lobby. Qi Leren suddenly stopped, staring at the numbers with a mixture of shock and suspicion. “Wait, look at the time!”

 

Dr. Lu pulled out his phone. Though there was no signal, the time was still displayed: 6:30. “What’s wrong?”

 

Qi Leren remained solemnly silent, Su He standing beside him as they both stared at the electronic signboard:

 

<i>X City People’s Hospital Welcomes You</i>

 

<i>Time: 04:13</i>

 

“Is the time wrong?” Xue Yingying asked.

 

“Impossible,” Dr. Lu replied. “In horror movies, time never glitches for no reason. It’s always a clue… or a death flag.” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Qi Leren understood his unspoken meaning.

 

“Maybe something special will happen at 4:13,” Su He murmured.

 

The four stood there for a long time, but the time on the signboard remained frozen at 4:13. It was as if the electronic display was locked in place.

 

“Four thirteen…” Qi Leren repeated the time under his breath, his mind racing with possibilities. What could this time mean?

 

They racked their brains for clues, but none surfaced. Suddenly, Xue Yingying gasped, nervously grabbing Su He’s arm and pointing to the lobby on the first floor. Qi Leren followed her gaze, his heart tightening with dread.

 

A blood-soaked figure wielding a chainsaw strode across the lobby toward the opposite corridor.

 

Su He waved for the others to retreat. From their vantage point on the second-floor balcony, the killer on the ground floor wouldn’t notice them unless he suddenly turned and looked up. Still, caution dictated they stay out of sight.

 

The four backed away, inching toward the corridor until they were safely concealed.

 

Beside the corridor’s service desk stood a goldfish tank, its inhabitants swimming peacefully among the aquatic plants, seemingly oblivious to the lurking danger.

 

Xue Yingying glanced at the tank again. Suddenly, the goldfish began leaping from the water one after another, emitting eerie, piercing shrieks—sounds no goldfish should be capable of making. It was like the screech of fingernails scraping a chalkboard, only sharper and more bone-chilling.

 

The fish continued to leap out of the tank, flopping wildly on the floor. One struck Xue Yingying’s silk-stockinged calf. She recoiled violently, her face pale, and slammed against the wall. Biting her lip, she nervously slapped her leg.

 

The fish that had struck her had been kicked aside, its twitching movements growing weaker until it lay dying on the floor.

 

“What’s wrong?” Su He asked.

 

“So cold…” Xue Yingying murmured, her lips trembling as she eyed the four dead goldfish on the floor with apprehension.

 

“Fish are cold-blooded animals,” Dr. Lu muttered, glancing nervously back the way they had come. “It’s normal for them to feel cold. We should move further away. It’s too quiet here; he might have heard us.”

 

His concern was valid. In the eerie silence of the hospital, the goldfish’s earlier shrieks had been jarringly loud. The killer might well come to investigate. After a quick discussion, the four of them immediately left the danger zone.

 

The two outpatient buildings were vast. Unless their luck turned truly dire, encountering the killer shouldn’t be easy. Guided by Dr. Lu, who knew the hospital layout well, they smoothly avoided several high-risk areas. Yet in this hospital teeming with vengeful spirits, the constant sensation of being watched frayed their nerves.

 

“Wait here…” Qi Leren suddenly called out, halting the group.

 

Though the building’s structure was repetitive, Qi Leren’s professional instincts allowed him to recognize interior spaces with ease. This particular area felt intimately familiar—a memory seared into his very bones.

 

Qi Leren stared at the creaking office door and murmured, “There must be another body nearby.”

 

“Huh, you mean…” Dr. Lu realized this was likely the place Qi Leren had mentioned—where he had narrowly escaped the Killer a second time.

 

Back then, the Killer had almost opened the closet where Qi Leren was hiding, but a scream nearby had diverted his attention, allowing Qi Leren to slip away.

 

But the person who screamed… they likely weren’t so lucky.

 

After a brief search, the group quickly discovered the gruesome corpse nearby. It was a young girl in a white dress, the bloodstains now a dark, dried brown. Most horrifyingly, her head was almost completely severed from her neck, connected only by a thin strip of flesh. Her limbs had been completely dismembered and scattered haphazardly, leaving only her torso lying alone on the floor—a grotesque parody of a human pig.

 

Scratched into her cheek with a sharp instrument was the number four.

 

The overpowering stench of blood turned the stomachs of all four. Dr. Lu, pinching his nose, examined the body and shook his head silently.

 

Weighed down by their situation, the four found a secluded spot to rest and discuss their current predicament.

 

The number of ghosts in the area had noticeably increased since nightfall, but they didn’t seem to be actively attacking. To test the effectiveness of the blood plasma, Su He and Qi Leren had taken turns provoking individual ghosts. Their experiments showed that plasma was more effective than concentrated red blood cells, but still less potent than Xue Yingying’s sanitary pad, which had caused Fierce Ghosts to scream outright.

 

Based on this, they speculated that fresh blood would likely be more effective.

 

Dr. Lu remained fixated on the 4:13 AM timestamp, muttering that it must be a crucial clue to unraveling the mystery. “Based on my years of watching horror movies and playing horror games, that time definitely hides a major secret. As a horror game, our current environment is quite peculiar. If we exclude the Killer as an unexpected player element, this should be a survival game where a group of ordinary people are trapped in a confined space. Such games invariably include obstacles to survival. Here, those obstacles are the ghosts, and the method to counter them—as far as we can tell—is human blood.”

 

Dr. Lu took a sip of water and continued, “Something extraordinary must happen at 4:13 AM. Perhaps a massive ghost outbreak. I suspect there’s a clue hidden somewhere in the hospital that can help us avoid the danger at that time, but we haven’t found it yet.”

 

Qi Leren and Xue Yingying nodded in agreement, finding his reasoning sound.

 

Su He sat calmly in his chair, his gentle gaze sweeping over the group. He asked slowly, “Have you ever considered the true purpose of this game?”

 

The three of them froze, surprised.

 

“The system initially described this as a ‘newbie village mission.’ In other words, like an MMORPG, this environment we’re in is supposed to be the simplest and safest. Why would it place a group of ordinary people in this so-called ‘newbie village’? What is its real objective?” Su He pressed.

 

“Um… perhaps it’s raising Gu?” Dr. Lu suggested tentatively, referring to a type of Chinese witchcraft involving cultivating venomous creatures.

 

“That’s possible,” Su He replied. “If it’s intentional Gu cultivation, then the presence of a killer makes sense. But that would be unnecessarily convoluted. The system could easily deploy a relentless Fierce Ghost NPC to hunt us down, or simply issue missions that force us to kill each other. Why rely on a human entering this place and suddenly going berserk? Human nature is far too unpredictable.”

 

“But… what if the Killer’s mission is different from ours?” Xue Yingying suggested. “What if his task is simply to hunt us down?”

 

Su He smiled gently. “If it weren’t impartial, it wouldn’t be ‘gu breeding.’ I’m more inclined to believe the Killer is an unforeseen element, an accident even. The system probably didn’t anticipate this outcome either.”

 

After some discussion, they remained uncertain and decided to proceed cautiously, taking things one step at a time.

 

“I want to go back to that goldfish tank,” Dr. Lu said, rising from his chair with a frown. “I still feel like we missed some clues.”

 

“I agree,” Su He replied with a smile.

 

Qi Leren had no objections, but Xue Yingying hesitated, clearly reluctant to return.

 

“That goldfish was really weird… cold, screeching, and just unpleasant,” Xue Yingying said, bending down to touch the spot where the fish had bumped her. Her expression was sour.

 

“We’ll just take a quick look,” Dr. Lu reassured her.

 

“If you’re uncomfortable, you can stay back a bit while we investigate,” Su He offered.

 

Xue Yingying bit her lip and nodded reluctantly.

 

As they cautiously made their way back to the goldfish tank, terrified of running into the Killer, they were fortunate enough not to encounter anyone along the way and successfully returned to the vicinity of the tank.

 

The goldfish on the floor had been crushed underfoot, their mangled bodies forming repulsive pools of death.

 

“Sick bastard,” Dr. Lu muttered under his breath.

 

Qi Leren suddenly felt uneasy. “Weren’t there three goldfish on the floor earlier?” he asked, frowning.

 

Su He furrowed his brow in thought. “I’m pretty sure there were four.”

 

“Me too,” Dr. Lu agreed.

 

Qi Leren turned to Xue Yingying. “Do you remember?”

 

Xue Yingying, who had been waiting at a distance while they investigated, had vanished without a trace.

 

The stark fluorescent lights of the empty corridor illuminated every corner, but her figure was nowhere to be seen.