Kaleidoscope of Death

“I will never be able sleep in that bed. I will definitely never be able to sleep in that sweet, cozy bed in this lifetime of mine. But it doesn’t matter, because the floor here is straight and hard. I like it very much. That’s right, I love this super hard floor…” Helplessly lying on the cold, uncomfortable ground, Tan Zaozao had resorted to hypnotizing herself.

At Ruan Nanzhu’s merciless refusal, the puny Tan Zaozao was forced to sleep on the floor once again, while the two large grown men squeezed into one soft bed. Of course, she didn’t forget to curse madly in her heart as she made her own pathetic-looking floor bed; she deeply hoped that her prayers for that bastard’s suffering somehow reached Lin Qiushi, and that he’d make that lousy Ruan Nanzhu’s life an absolute living hell.

After their midday rest, it began to drizzle outside.

Dark, heavy clouds amassed in the somber skies. Crystalline droplets of rain fell to the earth at intermittent intervals, issuing crisp pitter-patters as they shattered against the cold ground. Having woken up from his nap, Lin Qiushi stood by windowsill, quietly gazing at the scenery outside.

Through the window, he observed the lush shrubs adorning the castle grounds.

The thriving brambles appeared to be a species of shrub roses. Unfortunately, springtime had yet to arrive and the edges of the bushes hadn’t been pruned either, leaving them with the dismal view of an overgrown wreckage bereft of gorgeous flowers.

The atmosphere grew dense and humid with the rain, and that distinctive stench of water began pervading their surroundings. Yet, the smell wasn’t nearly as intense as it was the night before; it merely lingered in the air, faint yet ever-present.

“What are they doing outside?” Tan Zaozao came over to have a peek, only to see three individuals strolling about with umbrellas.

The three individuals were all people who had also entered this world with them. As of this moment, they appeared to be searching for something.

“They’re probably looking for some clues.” Lin Qiushi curiously watched them. “Maybe we should look around, as well?”

Tan Zaozao asked, “Should we go?”

Lin Qiushi turned around to face Ruan Nanzhu, who was still relaxing in bed without a care for anything.

Under his questioning stare, Ruan Nanzhu lazily replied, “No.” His tone was bored, and his face, stony, “I hate the rain.”

Lin Qiushi hummed, “Then we won’t go.”

The people outside ventured even deeper into the bushes, eventually disappearing from Lin Qiushi’s line of sight.

“I dislike getting wet from the rain.” Ruan Nanzhu, who finally got out from bed, casually wore his coat and put on his shoes. “We haven’t finished exploring the rest of this castle. Let’s go.”

The castle was so large and spacious that it was practically impossible to thoroughly inspect in one morning.

Before that incident with Xiao Su transpired, the mood of the crowd was merely tense and anxious; but now, it could be said that it was spiritless, despairingly lifeless. Most of them simply sat in the cheerless dining hall, not daring to move from their spots.

And just like so, a whole day passed.

After another lavish dinner came to an end, the others dragged their feet all the way back to their living quarters. Ruan Nanzhu asked Lin Qiushi if he was afraid to be alone.

Lin Qiushi shook his head, “I’ll be fine. But if anything happens, I’ll come look for you right away.”

Ruan Nanzhu gave a brisk nod and watched as Lin Qiushi entered his room, before swiveling around and stepping into his own bedroom.

In spite of it being around six o’clock in the evening, the starless skies outside were as dark as night because of shrouding rain. Before washing up, Lin Qiushi peered outside the window for a while. The scanty lights of his room faintly illuminated the dense shrubbery hooking across the coarse walls like feral claws.

Where he caught sight of that strange, dark shadow last night was now an empty space. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

After scrutinizing the area for a while longer, Lin Qiushi finally turned around and left to take a bath.

Having finished showered, Lin Qiushi wiped his damp hair with a towel as he exited the bathroom. He slowly made his way to his bed, when he abruptly halted mid-step… A figure was standing outside his window.

A hazy, dark figure whose back was facing him.

It was dressed in the blackest of shades, and a wide-brimmed hat rested atop its head. There it stood still, silently existing in the cold rain with its back turned towards Lin Qiushi.

A penetrating chill travelled up Lin Qiushi’s spine, crushing the gasp of fright escaping his lungs. He staggered backwards and nervously licked on his dry lips as he tried calming his wildly-beating heart.

Although the figure was rather vague and indistinct, it was undoubtedly the mistress of this castle. Now, he was certain that what he had witnessed the night before wasn’t a hallucination.

Just what exactly was the mistress of the castle doing near the bushes this late at night?

Regrettably, such a question could only be left unanswered at present time.

The silhouette in the rain showed no signs of movement; like a fixed marble statue, it stood tall and utterly motionless.

Lin Qiushi vigilantly stared at it for over ten minutes, but the figure didn’t budge in the slightest. At long last, the desire for sleep encroached upon him. After checking the time, he drowsily returned to his bed and fell atop the large mattress, sinking deeply into its soft covers.

Yet, just when Lin Qiushi was getting comfortable, something peculiar caught his attention. Suspended on the originally-blank wall before his eyes was a framed painting that shouldn’t have been there.

The framed painting depicted an unsmiling woman, void of any colour or emotion. Her flowing gown was blacker than coal, as was the gaudy hat on her head. Rain of white velvet streaked the canvas, formlessly blending with grim background and steadily dripping off the wide brim of her obsidian-tinted hat. Her cloudy eyes were slightly downcast, and her complexion was whiter than a sheet—it was The Woman of the Rain.

Lin Qiushi’s blood ran cold, and the hairs on his body instantly stood on end. He climbed out of bed ever so slowly and cautiously, desperately wishing to leave from this place as soon as possible.

The nearer he approached the door, the stronger the scent of rain grew, until it practically filled his nostrils. The air was unbearably suffocating; just breathing in this thick, damp stench made it feel as though he was drowning in the deepest depths of a murky lake. No sooner, Lin Qiushi saw dark, visible stains begin to appear on the wall beneath the painting.

Just as how muddy puddles coalesced into shallows streams with the accumulation of water, the moist smudges merged together and warped on the wall, steadily sketching out the profile of a face and forming the outline of a person.

Lin Qiushi twisted the doorknob and flung his door wide open, before rushing out of his room and anxiously knocking on Ruan Nanzhu’s door.

Seconds later, the door creaked open to reveal Tan Zaozao standing behind it. Upon seeing the distraught expression marking Lin Qiushi’s face, she instantly realized something must’ve had happened, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Yeah.” Lin Qiushi panted raggedly. “Something’s wrong with my room; the situation doesn’t look too good.”

“Come on in.” Tan Zaozao stepped aside, making way for Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi inhaled deeply, and was just about to enter the room, when he noticed something dreadfully awry…the door before Tan Zaozao had opened to the left.

However, all doors in this castle opened to the right.

Lin Qiushi’s expression froze, and his foot paused mid-air, daring not to move any further. He stiffly stepped backwards, retreating ever so slowly.

“What’s wrong?” wondered Tan Zaozao, her head cocked to one side in sheer puzzlement. She looked completely normal, as if she was the one-and-only Tan Zaozao who glued herself to them during the day.

“What’s your name?” Lin Qiushi breathlessly asked. “What’s your name again? I forgot…”

“My name is Xu Xiaocheng.” Tan Zaozao gave Lin Qiushi a strange look, as though she was looking at a bizarre monster. “Are you alright? There isn’t anything wrong with your head, is there? Were you really that scared?”

Lin Qiushi couldn’t even laugh if he wanted to. When no one else was around, he, Ruan Nanzhu and Tan Zaozao would all use their real names to refer to each other. And right now, not a single person was present. Not wasting another second talking to Tan Zaozao, he swirled on his heels and immediately ran to his own room.

Tan Zaozao was beyond taken aback by his actions. Only after Lin Qiushi slammed his door shut, was she finally able to react. Shaking off her shock, she walked over to Lin Qiushi’s door and knocked several times. She worriedly called out, “Yu Linlin, are you alright? Yu Linlin? What’s wrong with you? What’s the matter?”

Lin Qiushi stood guardedly behind the closed door, refusing to utter a single word.

Tan Zaozao’s urgent voice continued to echo down the dim corridor, “Yu Linlin, hurry up, and get out! Didn’t you say there’s something wrong with your room?! Yu Linlin—”

Lin Qiushi looked down at the carpet near the door.

The colour at the edges of the carpet gradually began to darken, and a damp shadow slowly spread across the surface. It was a sight Lin Qiushi was well-accustomed to by now—the carpet was clearly being tainted by water.

Although the voice of the person outside his door was all too familiar, Lin Qiushi hadn’t any idea what god-awful being it truly was. He turned his head and glanced at the wall beside him, only to see pristine droplets of water beginning to seep from The Woman of the Rain. Drip by drip, the silver beads trickled down the frame, similarly to how they slid down the lady’s wide-brimmed hat.

“Linlin. Linlin—” With each passing second, Tan Zaozao’s voice grew eerier, garbled as though she was submerged in thick water. As she relentlessly pounded against the door, seemingly wanting to smash it to smithereens, she rasped, “Linlin, come out, ah. Come out—”

Lin Qiushi didn’t respond. He just calmly pulled the stool over and propped it against the door.

The floor near the door became sopping wet; it was as if the “Tan Zaozao” standing outside was drenched in endlessly-spilling water. It was only natural that Lin Qiushi was itching with poisonous curiosity. Honestly speaking, Lin Qiushi really wanted to see what was going on outside, but, at the same time, he wasn’t at all brave enough to crouch on the ground and peek through the slit between the door and floorboards. God knew what grisly, heart-stopping terrors were lurking on the other side; for all he knew, he might even meet a pair of sinister eyeballs peering back at him through the crack.

As he listened to the persistent knocks on the door, Lin Qiushi suddenly regretted declining Ruan Nanzhu’s offer for a cigarette. As of this moment, he had nothing else to do, and it seemed that the only thing that could calm his nerves was the burning aroma of cigarettes.

The pungent stench of water assaulted his nostrils, choking him. Lin Qiushi simply stood by the soaked doorway, wearily listening to Tan Zaozao’s shrill voice gradually distort beyond the point of recognition.

At long last, she began wailing miserably, like an owl crying at midnight; her unpleasant screams made his scalp tingle.

“Come out! Come out!” The thing behind the door howled wretchedly, its hands hysterically scratching at the gap between the door and floors.

Taking a step back, Lin Qiushi watched as a few corpse-pale, skeletal fingers extended from the crevice.

The closed window was abruptly blown open by the bitter winds; the window sash violently slammed against the frame with a resounding crash. Agitated by the tempestuous gales, the sleek curtains billowed in the air like massive wings stretched wide, cloaking Lin Qiushi’s room in a fluttering veil. Although there was quite a considerable distance between him and the object of his attention, Lin Qiushi could clearly make out the silhouette outside the window. At some point in time, the dark figure standing near the bushes had turned around to face Lin Qiushi. Just as he had suspected, it was, indeed, the mistress of the castle.

Pitiless rain streamed down the madame’s pale face like shallow rivers, and she stared silently in the direction of Lin Qiushi’s room, harrowing mania churning within the depths of her wide, unblinking black eyes.

Not daring to look at her any more, Lin Qiushi averted his gaze. In his heart, he desperately prayed for morning to arrive quickly.

Who knew how many hours had passed, before the muddle-headed Lin Qiushi heard fierce knocks coming from his door.

As he rubbed his eyes, he realized he had somehow fallen asleep beside the door; he was slouched on the floor, his body leaning against the nearby wall. Just when he heaved himself up off the hard ground, a familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door. Tan Zaozao was shouting for him, “Linlin, are you okay?! Open the door—I’m going to break it down if you don’t open it soon!!!”

Upon hearing this, Lin Qiushi reflexively shot a glance outside the window, only to see that the showers of rain had long ceased. Right now, the heavy clouds had slightly parted in the skies, revealing glimmering flecks of sunshine. Although they were merely faint slivers of light, it was still enough to quell the noxious fear gripping people’s hearts and give them a peace of mind.

Lin Qiushi demanded, “What’s your name?”

“Huh? What’s wrong with you? Did you lose some brain cells after sleeping?” Tan Zaozao was more than baffled at Lin Qiushi’s question.

Lin Qiushi remained silent for but a moment, before twisting the doorknob in front of him.

The door opened, and sure enough, Tan Zaozao was standing right there. She awkwardly scratched her head, and bluntly remarked, “You look horrible. What happened to you last night?”

Lin Qiushi didn’t answer her, and instead responded with a question of his own, “Where is he?”

Tan Zaozao automatically knew Lin Qiushi was inquiring about Ruan Nanzhu, “He’s still washing up.”

Lin Qiushi: “Oh…”

Tan Zaozao: “What happened?”

Lin Qiushi: “I almost died last night.”

Tan Zaozao: “…” How can you just say something so scary and awful with such a calm voice?

A few minutes later, Lin Qiushi recounted what happened the night before to Tan Zaozao and Ruan Nanzhu. Although he spoke very calmly and only briefly narrated his experience, not touching down upon every trivial detail, Tan Zaozao still shuddered after hearing his story. She swallowed hard on her thick saliva and lowly stammered, “S-so you didn’t get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.” Lin Qiushi yawned. “I took a short nap just before dawn.”

Ruan Nanzhu didn’t speak at all after listening to his account. He remained silent for a long while, seemingly deep in thought.

A sense of security and relief flooded Lin Qiushi’s heart at the sight of a pensive Ruan Nanzhu. Not wanting to bother or rush him, Lin Qiushi decided to quietly leave the room to give Ruan Nanzhu some space to think.

But who would’ve guessed that Ruan Nanzhu would suddenly wave his hand and casually state, “Let’s eat breakfast first. My blood levels are running low, and I don’t have the energy to think of anything right now.”

Lin Qiushi: “…” Might as well.

Thereupon, the three made their way to the dining hall on the second floor. Once the rest of the team arrived, they counted how many people were present and soon verified that no one else had died last night.

As before, the gloomy mistress sat at the innermost position of the dining table. However, her current mood was far from pleasant, unlike yesterday. Her face was even paler and bleaker than usual, making others more reluctant to approach her, much less look at her.

After yesterday’s events, Lin Qiushi’s sensitivity to people’s stares had increased; he kept getting the feeling that the madame was glaring viciously at him ever since he stepped foot into the dining hall.

Breakfast was surprisingly very delicious, especially the freshly-baked bread that was irresistibly fragrant and fluffy. Lin Qiushi gobbled several of them down with rich, nectarous jam.

Marveling at Lin Qiushi’s voracious appetite, Tan Zaozao earnestly expressed her admiration for the other, mentioning that she wouldn’t be able to eat anything for a whole day if she went through the same experience last night.

“This could very well be our last meal.” Lin Qiushi repeated what Ruan Nanzhu said yesterday, offhandedly adding, “Might as well die on a satisfied stomach.”

Tan Zaozao: “…” Ah shit, here we go again. Here’s another one with a loose screw in his head.

Ruan Nanzhu brooded over something as he ate his meal; he barely spoke a word the entire time. Only after he finished eating, did he call them over to a remote area and conveyed his thoughts.

“She wanted to kill you yesterday,” started Ruan Nanzhu. “However, you didn’t trigger a condition for death, so she wasn’t able to succeed.”

Lin Qiushi recalled, “She tried to lure me into the room. I definitely would’ve been done for had I entered. Fortunately, that didn’t happen…”

Rubbing his chin, Ruan Nanzhu speculated, “That was probably the illusory world of paintings. This is the only logical explanation as to why the door opened in reverse.” He glanced at the art piece that was hung on the wall next to him. “You moved the picture on the wall, yes?”

“En.” Lin Qiushi grunted in affirmation. “The painting on the wall made me feel very uncomfortable the moment I saw it, so I immediately took it down and put it inside a drawer.”

“This may, in fact, be some sort of factor,” supposed Ruan Nanzhu, “but it certainly is not a determinant of death.”

The callous creatures in the worlds beyond the doors were not, by any means, kind and merciful to the humans who had intruded into their eldritch lairs. The instant one of them triggered a condition for death, they were doomed to never survive the night. If Lin Qiushi hadn’t realized the Xu Xiaocheng from last night was an imposter, the others truly might not have seen a trace of him today.

Ruan Nanzhu said, “I want to check out the painting from yesterday again.” He was referring to the girl, Xiao Su, who had long become encased in a frame—their only lead at present time.

And so, they went upstairs to thoroughly examine the framed painting. Yet, no matter how much they studied it, there wasn’t anything in particular that stuck out to them.

“Let’s wait and see.” Ruan Nanzhu sighed. “There will definitely be other clues to work with.”

The ever-lurking vile beings in this world were always on the hunt, never resting for anyone; that being said, they were bound to provide them with some more clues, sooner or later.

Afterwards, the three went to look for the group who explored the bushes the day before, and asked if they happened to find anything.

“Even if we found something, why should we tell you?” The leader of the group was a thirty-year-old man named Zhang Tao, who partnered up with the female newcomer and another young man. At Ruan Nanzhu’s inquiry, he adopted an aggressively hostile stance, displaying severe obstinacy and cynicism.

“We can exchange our clues.” Ruan Nanzhu offered. “We figured out one of the conditions for death.”

Zhang Tao narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “Are you telling the truth?”

“Of course, I speak nothing but the truth.” Ruan Nanzhu assured. “As a matter of fact, our teammate nearly died because of this.”

Zhang Tao guardedly replied, “You tell it to us first.”

Ruan Nanzhu quirked a brow at this, “You three have not even told us whether you’ve actually found a clue in the bushes, and yet, you expect us to tell you our clue first? In any case, who knows whether the so-called clue you’ve found—if you’ve found one at all—is even useful.”

Zhang Tao faltered slightly, “Then what do you suggest?”

Ruan Nanzhu proposed, “It’s best if we write our clues down on a piece of paper, then exchange them.”

After a split-second of hesitation, Zhang Tao finally nodded, agreeing to the arrangement.

Those who entered the door world should, technically, be on a same side, helping and supporting one another. But the existence of the notes containing vital hints caused everyone to harbour doubts for each other, fight amongst themselves and act for their own self interests. Then again, who didn’t wish to be the first to leave this hellish world and receive a crucial hint for the next door? Moreover, a fair few of these selfish individuals were disorganised and short-sighted, not even bothering to understand or learn about the basic laws of the door worlds. It was only natural that experienced individuals were rather reluctant to share their own clues with such foolish novices.

After trading notes with Zhang Tao, Ruan Nanzhu left with Lin Qiushi and Tan Zaozao.

In a hushed whisper, Tan Zaozao nosily asked what Ruan Nanzhu wrote on the note he gave to Zhang Tao. Needless to say, whatever he wrote down was, obviously, going to be utter rubbish; after all, none of them actually knew what the conditions for death were.

“Something random.” Ruan Nanzhu answered. “It’s merely my own speculation, nothing more. I just want them to test it out for us.”

“Test it out how?” wondered Tan Zaozao.

Ruan Nanzhu: “Well, if one of them ends up dying because of it, that just means something is wrong with that condition, and we’ll need to beware of it.”

Tan Zaozao: “…” Well played.

It wasn’t the least bit surprising that Ruan Nanzhu had devious schemes like this up his sleeve. On the contrary, the hint Zhang Tao gave them was quite perfunctory; all he mentioned was there being a black frame within the bushes.

“A black frame…” Lin Qiushi thought back on the dark shadow he saw outside his window last night. “Could the figure I saw yesterday have anything to do with this?”

Ruan Nanzhu simply said, “We’ll have to see to know.”

Before it started raining again, they hurried over to where they previously saw Zhang Tao and the others walking. Sure enough, they found a black picture frame near the edges of the bushes. The frame was inserted into the ground diagonally, and its sleek surface was speckled with shimmering pellets of rain.

Upon catching sight of the black frame, Ruan Nanzhu crouched down and began scanning the area, seemingly searching for something. Before long, he sharply clicked his tongue and beckoned Lin Qiushi over, “Come have a look.”

“Huh?” Lin Qiushi walked over to Ruan Nanzhu’s location and squatted down.

“See that?” Ruan Nanzhu pointed at the frame.

Lin Qiushi studied it for a while, before realising what Ruan Nanzhu was referring to. From this angle, his room happened to be captured perfectly inside the frame. The orientation at which the frame was arranged was quite clever and meticulous. If they looked at it from different positions, they’d only see ordinary dense bushes, but the view of his room from the window was always on full display before the black frame; although he couldn’t see the frame from his room, the black frame could clearly see him.

“It must be because of this.” Ruan Nanzhu concluded. “I’m guessing someone probably moved the frame.”

Lin Qiushi asked, “Is it because there’s dirt on it?”

“Correct,” replied Ruan Nanzhu. “It was placed here by someone—no, perhaps it wasn’t someone, but something.”

Lin Qiushi said, “If anything, let’s first remove this.” Thinking back on it, the figure standing outside his room last night seemed to stand exactly where they found this black frame. Could the owner of this frame have possibly decided to treat him as a mere painting? If, by any chance, said owner managed to encapsulate his figure into a creative piece…wouldn’t the same thing that happened to that girl happen to him?

Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Because he didn’t know what other effects the black frame could bring about, Lin Qiushi didn’t dare take it back with him. Instead, he found a conspicuous area, and dug a deep pit to bury it.

After burying the frame, they headed back to the castle.

Not long after they returned, large drops of rain started to cascade down from the gloomy skies. Since they arrived here, it was practically showering all the time, the downpours lasting for more than seven to eight hours straight. At most, the rain would briefly cease in the morning, but by the afternoon and evening, the rain would fall once again, giving rise to a prickling feeling of agitation and distress.

As of right now, Lin Qiushi detested the earthy stench of rain. Whenever he caught a whiff of that scent, he instantly recalled that awful ordeal he suffered through last night.

As a result, he was rather absent-minded during lunchtime; his attention constantly strayed to the view outside the window.

“What’s the matter?” asked Ruan Nanzhu.

“I wonder if I’ll run into anything again tonight.” Lin Qiushi huffed exasperatedly. “Hah, how troublesome.”

Ruan Nanzhu softly suggested, “Sleep with me?”

Lin Qiushi: “…I’ll think about it.”

Ruan Nanzhu: “Think about it then.” He seemed rather dissatisfied and upset at Lin Qiushi’s indecision. He firmly placed his knife and fork down, and stopped eating.

At the side, Tan Zaozao couldn’t resist the delightful feeling of schadenfreude. She inwardly grinned to herself, happily thinking, “Looks like you have it pretty tough too, huh? Serves you right, Ruan Nanzhu. Karma sure is a bitch.”

Ruan Nanzhu seemed to have perceived Tan Zaozao’s thoughts. He glanced at her in displeasure, his eyes flashing with a bitter, glacial light, and coldly spat, “Seems like you’ve forgotten your position. You think you’ll still be happy and safe later, huh?”

Tan Zaozao: “…Nonono, Boss! Boss! I need you! Linlin, what in the world are you hesitating for?! It’s obviously safer when all three of us are together! If you run into something dangerous, our big brother boss here will protect you! Can’t get a better deal than that, you know! Your comfort and peace are one-hundred percent guaranteed by his side!”

Ruan Nanzhu: “Hm.”

It deeply pained Tan Zaozao to have to kiss up to a bastard like him.

After contemplating for a moment, Lin Qiushi decided that her words held some reason, so he nodded, “Alright. Let’s stick together.”

Pleased, Ruan Nanzhu hummed.

Wilted, Tan Zaozao heaved a sigh.

Lin Qiushi was perplexed, utterly oblivious to the reason for Tan Zaozao’s heavy sigh.

As they ate their lunch, everyone exchanged the clues they found. Of course, most of them still had reservations, so they obviously withheld some information.

Lin Qiushi narrated what he had experienced the night before. A mix of fear, respect and relief filled the others’ eyes, once they heard his account. There were even some who patted Lin Qiushi on the shoulder and acknowledged, “Brother, your luck is truly too good.”

Lin Qiushi could only smile wryly at that.

He couldn’t necessarily say that he was lucky, because he was one of the first people to be targeted in this world. But he also couldn’t say that he was unlucky, because he still managed to survive and see the light of the next day; if he truly was unlucky, he wouldn’t be sitting here, having this conversation.

In any case, it was hard to say whether this luck of his was truly good or bad.

Ruan Nanzhu asked if anyone had been to the atelier at the top of the castle or the warehouse where unfinished paintings were being stored.

Everyone shook their heads, indicating that they hadn’t visited either of those places. One person among them even commented, “Didn’t the butler say that we’re forbidden from entering those two places? Why the hell would we even go there? To seek death?”

Ruan Nanzhu sarcastically retorted, “You mean to say you won’t ever die as long as you don’t go there?”

The other person: “…”

“Let’s go. There’s nothing useful here.” As Ruan Nanzhu took Lin Qiushi and Tan Zaozao out of the room, he sneered, “The people who have entered the door this time are beyond foolish and incompetent. It seems we cannot expect anything from such hopeless individuals.”

“Incompetent? How so?” Tan Zaozao blinked curiously.

Ruan Nanzhu responded, “Would you ever blindly follow or obey the NPC’s word without question?”

Tan Zaozao shook her head, “Never.”

Ruan Nanzhu pointed behind him, “They would.”

After thinking about it for a while, Tan Zaozao eventually agreed with Ruan Nanzhu’s statement. Excluding the newcomers, the others who were participating this time were especially cowardly and meek. Ever since that tragedy with Xiao Su, most of them became frightened out of their wits, and their spirits completely broke. Only around two to three people had the guts to search for some leads. As for the rest, they were either hiding in their rooms or cowering in the dining hall, waiting for God-knows-what.

“I’m going to visit the art studio.” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Although it will be dangerous, we must check this place out.” He delicately rolled up his sleeves, exposing his strong, beautifully-carved forearms. “After all, even though they are mere NPCs, every single one of them are eager to see us die in this door world.”

Author’s Comment:

Ruan Nanzhu: Hug me.

Lin Qiushi: Tan Zaozao, big brother Ruan wants a hug from you.

Tan Zaozao: ?????

Zhu Meng: Hug me.

A blushing Lin Qiushi: *Hugs tightly*

Ruan Nanzhu fiercely rips off his skirt: God dammit, Lin Qiushi, I’m going to fuck you so damn hard!

Ahahahahaha I can’t believe you all prefer the Brother Ruan who dresses in women’s clothes! Sexism has been reported!