The space collapsed. After leaving the dim room, the four members of 2002 returned to the southern dormitories, the place they were before the start of the game- and the place where Du Cheng had killed a team member who had been questioning him, only to discover the strange behavior of the surrounding pedestrians and thus breaking the rules of the world and starting the next round early.
Du Cheng spat and ran his foot over the bloody floor.
The other three survivors didn’t speak.
Li Yunyun had been killed just a few minutes ago, and her murderer was none other than the barely-contained Du Cheng. He looked menacingly at each of them, as if searching for any sliver of grievance to use as an excuse to let out his rage – that was something Du Cheng would do.
If not for his already terrible reputation and power, he would have been killed long ago.
Ke Zhengjie thought sorrowfully, this was reality indeed, life really was so unfair.
Even when they were still in school, Du Cheng had been famous as the prodigal son, the second-generation young master. Just half a year ago, he had killed a girl in a drink-driving accident, but his rich and powerful family found someone else to take the blame and allowed Du Cheng to keep abusing his power in school. The only reason he knew of the matter was because Du Cheng himself had said it after getting drunk. Ke Zhengjie still remembered that arrogant and smug smile on that drunken face, despicable and disgusting.
He skipped classes and exams, participated in fights and brawls, harassed girls, but no one ever dared to say anything against him. He felt justified even when hitting a teacher, announcing in front of the entire class that those who got on his bad side should get lost, or he would send them off himself, with the dean next to him bowing and agreeing. The entire class was silent and no one dared to speak out of anger.
What an absurd and ridiculous scene. Who would have believed that something like this happened in a high-education college in broad daylight? Yet it happened, again and again, in a way like it was the natural order.
Ke Zhengjie didn’t dare say anything. He was just a normal, poor student, all his ancestors hoeing the ground for food. Sending him to university had already used up all of his family’s savings, and he had to study and work at the same time in order to earn money to continue his education. The sense of superiority from getting into university had disappeared after countless careless shows of pity and gloats from his classmates. He was no longer that outstanding phoenix from his village, he was just an ugly duckling who had made the mistake of walking into a flock of swans, woefully trying to hide his differences.
He yearned for what Du Cheng had, but that yearning had slowly turned into envy and contempt in his inferiority. He would always think in the depths of night, if only he was Du Cheng with a powerful father and a mother who spoiled him, growing up in unlimited wealth. How nice that would be.
But he had nothing. He couldn’t even afford a woman who was abandoned by Du Cheng.
Su Tian, Ke Zhengjia thought about Su Tian once again. She wasn’t pretty, but she wasn’t ugly either. To Du Cheng, she was just an obedient, unimportant toy whose biggest use was to provide him with the right answers during exams. Even after she died, he didn’t seem saddened at all – Bai Lushuang was still there, wasn’t she? She was prettier than Su Tian, and sweeter than Su Tian, always making Du Cheng smile, easily making him take out his wallet or a hotel card.
Ke Zhengjie snuck a glance at Bai Lushuang. She was nestled in Du Cheng’s arms, gently comforting him. Du Cheng laughed at something she said and groped her on the ass. Bai Lushuang pouted and the two started kissing stickily, as if Li Yunyun’s death was some minor incident and they weren’t in some dangerous game, but rather some couple’s make-out room.
Ke Zhengjie felt terrified once more. He couldn’t help but think, if he died, would anyone care? He never had much of a presence to start with, and he wasn’t powerful either. If it wasn’t for Zhang Jia helping him from time to time…
Ke Zhangjie looked towards Zhang Jia. He was sitting on a peeling bench, staring at the skill tattoo on his wrist. The dusky street light lit up his figure; he looked forlorn and pathetic.
Ever since Zou Lili disappeared, he had been like this: a ghost without a soul, lost deep in thought.
Ke Zhengjie remembered that Zhang Jie wasn’t always like this. He and Zou Lili had entered the game together and the two had supported each other the entire way, their relationship so good it made other people envious. Back then, Zhang Jia had been brighter and more cheerful, occasionally making a small joke. Ke Zhengjie really liked that teammate. He was not only smart, but also kind, like a true angel compared to Du Cheng. His only downside was that his personality was too soft, always choosing to step back in the face of scum like Du Cheng, avoiding any head-on clash with him.
But ever since one day, they had suddenly realized on a break that Zou Lili was missing.
She didn’t pick up her phone, and no one knew where she had gone. Zhang Jia searched for her like mad, asking where she was from everyone who knew her, but no one knew.
Even at the start of the next round, she didn’t appear.
Ke Zhengjie still remembered, after the start of the next round, Zhang Jia waited in Time Plaza until the end of the grace period before breaking down and bawling at the board showing the survivor numbers. Ke Zhengjie had never seen him so out of sorts. Those cries, heart-rending like they were tearing his soul into shreds, he hadn’t been able to bear to listen to them any longer.
No one saw her again. She wasn’t found alive, nor dead.
Until today, when they saw her once more.
That reunion though might have been even crueler for Zhang Jia compared to never seeing her again – at least that way, he could hold a wisp of hope, praying that Zou Lili had left this game and returned to reality, instead of seeing his loved one turn into a monster without a mind of her own.
He sincerely felt grief for him.
Next to him came the sound of that damned couple flirting. Bai Lushuang said in a pretentiously affectionate tone, “Aiya, look how careless you were, you didn’t even know you got a wound on your hand. Here, let me heal it for you.”
“That doesn’t need a healing skill, I’ll be fine if you give me a kiss,” Du Cheng said and cupped Bai Lushuang’s chin as he kissed her. Bai Lushuang lightly tapped his chest and returned the kiss.
Ke Zhengjie took in a deep breath, a nameless fire raging in his chest. He whispered to Zhang Jia, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
Zhang Jia came back to his senses. “I’ll go with you?”
“It’s fine, I’m just off to take a piss.” Ke Zhengjie walked towards a building not far away, unzipping his pants after a turn.
Zhang Jia looked around him; everywhere was calm and peaceful. His eyesight had been strengthened by a skill; even though the light around him was dim, it was as clear as day to him. It was also this eyesight that allowed him to see behind corners that others couldn’t – skinned rats rustling and chewing in the shadows, dark-red worms slowly crawling across the bloodstained ground, behind the shrubs, under the leaves, next to the grass, suspicious mucus and flesh everywhere, along with slivers of foul blood…
He closed his eyes, unwilling to keep looking.
It had always been painful to see the world clearly. After losing Lili, there had been countless moments where he almost couldn’t control himself from raising his knife against his own throat to escape this nightmare forever. But each time, he would throw down the knife in anguish.
He couldn’t die, not yet.
Before that day arrived, he had to live!
The sound of footsteps came and Zhang Jia opened his eyes. Ke Zhengjie was standing next to him. He said quietly, “So you have a younger brother.”
“I only found out today… My parents probably got him after I disappeared,” Zhang Jia said. He understood perfectly well his parents’ desire to have another child after his death. He felt guilty and uneasy towards them. After all, they had raised him, only for him to be trapped in this game, making them carry the pain of losing their child.
“But he seemed to dislike you a lot,” Ke Zhengjie said.
Zhang Jia fell silent. After knowing Zhang Sijia’s existence, he wanted to ask him how his parents were doing, but Zhang Sijia’s hatred against him was like a heavy blow to the head. He didn’t know why his younger brother would harbor such deep contempt towards someone he had never met, and this hatred from a blood-relation only made him even more miserable. He had even thought in despair, was he destined to never be loved? Even if he received it, he would only lose it, leaving behind only endless hatred, making him suffer, making him sink down and down.
This world… Why would there be such a terrible world…
Zhang Jia bent down and covered his head.
“It got darker…” Ke Zhengjie mumbled.
Zhang Jia suddenly stood up from his chair. “Careful, the illusions are here again!”
Still flirting with each other, Du Cheng and Bai Lu Shuang finally realized the change in their surroundings. That gel-like stickiness appeared again, the darkness taking a physical form, the dusky light from the lamp now as cold as the stars above.
It was here.
They had all already experienced this terrible illusion and knew that there was no escape. They had to face it head on.
Darkness arrived.
In front of them was a scene of gloomy blue. Maybe it was supposed to be brighter, but in the mutated illusion, the endless blue was tarnished by dark red, making this long corridor appear eerier, scarier.
The ceiling and floor were both blue, the walls snow white, but trails of rust corroded the originally fresh and pastel color. The light on the corridor flashed bright and dim, so fragile it seemed ready to go out at any moment.
The four stood in this long corridor. At the end of it was a closed-off balcony. Wards lined both sides, 301, 302, 303… and in the middle of the corridor was a meter tall metal gate, dividing the corridor into two parts.
Where was the monster? Du Cheng looked around him but only saw his teammates’ serious expressions. There was not a single monster in sight.
“It might be in the wards.” Zhang Jia saw his confusion.
Du Cheng huffed. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
Saying that, he tightly gripped his machete and pushed open the nearest door – a dull and gloomy creak sounded as the metal door slowly opened inwards.
There were four beds placed in the ward. They were completely bare, without a bed sheet nor a pillow, only a wooden headboard on a metal frame. There wasn’t even a bedside table.
The window was open, a blue curtain gently fluttering in the darkness.
“Whose illusion is this? Hospital wards are too scary.” Bai Lushuang was creeped out by the atmosphere.
“I’m afraid this is not your usual hospital.” Zhang Jia was keenly aware of the anomaly in the ward.
Even the simplest ward should have a table and a shelf to allow the patient and their family to place items on, but this ward was too ‘clean’. Apart from these four beds, there was nothing. It was definitely not normal.
Unless… this was the room of a psychiatric patient. Only they would live in such a room that had been removed of all its hazardous objects and that wasn’t even allowed to have a shelf in to hold personal belongings.
Zhang Jia frowned and asked, “Have any of you been to a mental asylum?”
The three all shook their heads in a daze.
“Sob sob…” Weak sounds of crying came from behind the door. The four of them turned to the noise, their hair standing on end.
From the corridor came the ceaseless cries of a woman, getting closer and closer.
Du Cheng cursed and pulled open the ward door, pushing down his fear. “Shit, there’s a nü gui1!”
Zhang Jia looked towards the depth of the corridor – there was a fence about a meter tall, separating the front and rear sections of the corridor. Just behind that fence, a long haired woman dragged her broken legs and crawled towards the metal gate from the balcony.
Blood… A long trail of blood spread from the closed balcony to the fence gate. She was bleeding as she crawled and cried, her messy hair entangled in her blue patient’s gown.
With a clang, her hands latched onto the metal railing. She raised an unsightly face.
What a pathetic face, as if someone had scraped it across an uneven gravel path, her skin cut open and bloody. Even her eyeballs had fallen out, revealing dark, bleeding sockets.
The most terrifying part was her chest. Where her heart was supposed to be was an empty hole, so that one could see right through her chest to the dirty ground behind her.
She wailed, her arms shaking the metal bars, forcibly pulling open the rusted fence gate. She let out an overjoyed shriek which alerted the rooms deep in the corridor. One after another, the doors opened, strong monsters in white nurse uniforms walking out, carrying a variety of tools from clubs to ropes to machets, coming at them with gusto…
***
1Directly translated, ‘female ghoul’. Generally considered to be the most frightening subcategory of ghouls.
Vera & Luci Translations 