Kaleidoscope of Death

“What does that mean? What do you mean the doctor isn’t part of the institution?” Feng Yongle didn’t understand Ruan Nanzhu’s words at all, asking, utterly lost, “are you saying the dean of medicine’s a ghost?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “you saw the portraits in the dean’s office, didn’t you?”

Feng Yongle nodded.

Ruan Nanzhu, “that nurse clearly can attack the NPCs in here. If the dean is in this sanitarium, there’s no way he could’ve escaped.” Here he went silent for a bit in thought. “Of course, there’s one other possibility—that he has a way of avoiding the nurse. But we haven’t seen him here at all, so I’m leaning toward option two.”

Lin Qiushi listened closely to Ruan Nanzhu’s analysis.

“Option two.” Ruan Nanzhu held up two fingers, and spoke softly. “He’s not in the sanitarium at all.”

Feng Yongle still looked blank, but Lin Qiushi understood what Ruan Nanzhu meant—that the dean was hidden among the people who’d come through the door, just like Xu Jin from the sister’s drum door.

Seeing that Feng Yongle still didn’t understand, Ruan Nanzhu could only sigh, and explain once more in detail.

Afterward, Feng Yongle looked on in disbelief. “How is that possible? Among the people who came in, that’s gotta be against the rules…”

Ruan Nanzhu, “so what if it is? There are no set rules in these worlds anyways.”

Feng Yongle scratched his head, still stuck, it seemed, behind the bend.

“Of course, it’s only a guess for now. We’re still waiting for proof,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “But we can now say for sure the key has something to do with all those pictures in the dean’s office.”

Feng Yongle nodded. “Right, weren’t we going to go take a look at the corpse storage room?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “after breakfast.”

And so the three began to slowly eat once again.

Once breakfast was done, they continued as planned from yesterday, and headed for the corpse storage.

At that room, Lin Qiushi wasn’t surprised to find a portion of the bodies missing. Only two-thirds of the body bags, once stacked to the ceiling, were left. Some seemed to have been moved elsewhere last night.

Watching the bodies in this room, Ruan Nanzhu went silent in contemplation.

“The missing bodies must’ve been taken to the tunnel,” Feng Yongle spoke quietly from the side. “Are we supposed to sneak out and follow them at night? But if we come across that nurse…” Here, he must have recalled the awful death of Xue Zhiyun, his whole body shuddering.

Ruan Nanzhu, “coming out and getting killed by the nurse is still better than waiting around to die. Plus, there are some rules that don’t have to be followed.”

Indeed. Lin Qiushi still remembered the woman in the rain world, in which Ruan Nanzhu ignored the butler’s rules, broke into the lady of the house’s art studio, and got them the key to leave the door. If they did really just obey the NPC’s rules in every single world, who knew how many times they’d have died by now?

There were rules that had to be followed. But there were also rules that had to be broken. Of course, determining the standard for that was an individual exercise. One wrong choice could mean paying the price with your life.

It really seemed the case that the more doors you went through, the easier it was to accumulate reliable experience. Training at such high volumes like Ruan Nanzhu wasn’t insensible, was Lin Qiushi’s train of thought.

“Then we’ll sneak out tonight and take a look?” Feng Yongle suggested quietly at the side.

Ruan Nanzhu said, “we’ll see.” Then his gaze changed. “I want to go take another look at the dean’s office.”

“Sure, let’s go together.” Feng Yongle really had no better ideas.

So the three went once again to the dean’s office.

Last time they came, there had been a large lock on the office door. But that lock was now completely broken off. Other players must have wanted to get in, but without the ability to pick locks, could only do so with brute force.

But this was convenient as well. Ruan Nanzhu pulled open the door to expose the office beyond.

Not much had changed inside since they were last here. It was just that the book on the table had been flipped through, but not returned to its place. The portraits on the wall seemed to have been moved as well.

Lin Qiushi’s gaze fell on that empty frame.

That frame was the most peculiar, hanging so obtrusively among the mass of funereal portraits. It was as if an incomplete canvas, keen to be filled like all others around it.

Ruan Nanzhu’s head was lowered, observing the infant’s corpse in the drawer. He’d been thinking of something this whole time, his expression particularly serious.

“Say,” Ruan Nanzhu suddenly called, “how many people do you suppose have come in here?”

Lin Qiushi shook his head, indicating he didn’t know.

Feng Yongle, “loads, probably… Look at all these footprints on the floor. I’d think probably everyone’s been in here.” The dean’s office wasn’t exactly hidden. It was easy to find and enter to explore.

Just as the three were planning to look around some more, there came an awful scream from downstairs. It was from one of the women in their group.

Feng Yongle’s expression went severe. “Something happened?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “let’s go see.”

So the three sprinted down to the first floor, where the scream had come from. They very quickly saw what had happened.

One corner of the first floor hallway was painted with blood. Among the red was collapsed a person— No, it really couldn’t be called a person anymore. Every single bone in its body seemed to have broken, and all its muscles had been removed, leaving only a sheet of skin, just sitting there on the ground.

When he saw this person Lin Qiushi’s eyes went wide with shock. Though he couldn’t see this person’s face, he could still recognize from the clothes that the dead man was Jiang Yingrui!

Lin Qiushi glanced instinctively at Ruan Nanzhu, but Ruan Nanzhu only flipped his palms up in innocence, gesturing that he he had nothing to do with the current situation.

“How did he die?” Feng Yongle was shocked too. “Wasn’t he fine just this morning?”

“I don’t know—” The one who’d found the corpse was a woman, and she said, “I was just going to take a look around here, but then I found this.”

“Nobody saw what happened? How did he die?” somebody asked.

Nobody could answer this question. It seemed that there wasn’t anybody who knew how Jiang Yingrui died.

The people in their group gradually all gathered. Minus the two who’d died last night and Jiang Yingrui before them, there were still eleven left. Everybody stared solemnly at Jiang Yingrui’s body, and began whispering speculations among themselves of why Jiang Yingrui died so gruesomely.

Ruan Nanzhu came beside Jiang Yingrui, and began a cursory examination of the corpse.

After a while, he stood.

Bystanders asked if he’d discovered anything. Ruan Nanzhu shook his head: “Nothing.”

Jiang Yingrui’s death was too strange and too sudden. Lin Qiushi had even been wondering what to do if Jiang Yingrui tried to trip them up, but then the guy just upped and died.

Ruan Nanzhu finished examining the body, and let his gaze sweep once over the gathered people.

Lin Qiushi felt he was looking for something. But Ruan Nanzhu must not have found that thing, because the next moment, he was waving for Lin Qiushi and Feng Yongle to leave with him.

Once the three had left, they found a more remote spot.

Ruan Nanzhu confirmed there was nobody else around, then slowly pulled something out of his pocket. He said, “I found this in Jiang Yingrui’s pocket.”

“What?” Lin Qiushi startled, and saw that there was a little wooden doll in Ruan Nanzhu’s hold. The doll was about the size of a thumb, and seemed like a child’s toy.

“What’s this? A toy?” Feng Yongle asked.

Ruan Nanzhu’s fingers rubbed along the doll. With a sudden motion, the doll split open in the center, revealing a smaller doll inside. It was then that Lin Qiushi understood this was the last two of a Russian nesting doll.

Russian nesting dolls held one within another, the larger holding the smaller. There were only two left of the doll before them.

“It’s likely an important prop,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “And why Jiang Yingrui didn’t die last night.”

He’d gotten these two dolls from somewhere special, and the dolls had saved his life.

But it was just that for some reason, though he’d escaped the evening, he died the day after.

Feng Yongle, “then why did he die…”

Ruan Nanzhu sighed, “that’s what I want to know too. Will you stop asking questions already and give some actual input?”

At Ruan Nanzhu’s tone of exasperation[1], Feng Yongle’s expression went a tad awkward, his laugh high-pitched. “Sorry, you’re just too good. I’m worried that my analysis will interrupt your train of thought.”

It would be hard to describe Ruan Nanzhu’s expression as a smile. “Qiuqiu, what do you think?”

Lin Qiushi typed: Could the person who killed him be that doctor?

Ruan Nanzhu, “how so?”

Lin Qiushi: I’ve never seen that nurse during the day. So whatever Jiang Yingrui did to trigger a death condition, I think it’s got to be a very special condition. Plus, to follow your deduction, if the doctor is indeed in our group… Maybe Jiang Yingrui discovered some kind of key hint in the first floor hallway?

Ruan Nanzhu, “makes sense. Let’s go take a look.”

The first floor hallway had returned to silence after the gathered crowd dispersed, leaving only Jiang Yingrui’s corpse lying silently on the ground.

Lin Qiushi crouched down for his own examination this time. Feng Yongle mumbled on the side, “how are you two girls so gutsy, aren’t you scared…”

Lin Qiushi shot him a look, but was silent. It was Ruan Nanzhu who said, beaming, “what’s to be scared of? I know my darling Qiuqiu will protect me.”

With a queer expression, Feng Yongle uttered an oh.

Jiang Yingrui died very strangely. There was a huge hole in his stomach, and the edges of his wound were torn, as if something had ripped him open. To tell the truth, Lin Qiushi had thought for a while now that Jiang Yingrui’s sudden death was a very odd situation. He slowly peeled open Jiang Yingrui’s clothing. When he discovered something else, his eyes went wide.

“What is it?” Ruan Nanzhu saw Lin Qiushi’s expression.

Lin Qiushi waved Ruan Nanzhu over.

Ruan Nanzhu stood across from Lin Qiushi and looked down on the body, only to find that on Jiang Yingrui’s clothed back, there was a myriad of knife wounds, both large and small. These knife wounds were clearly deep, but because Jiang Yingrui’s corpse was tattered to begin with, and the wounds were topped off with blood, they hadn’t been easily discovered.

Ruan Nanzhu hadn’t cared much before for how Jiang Yingrui died, and so missed this hint. He frowned now, expression looking quite sober.

His legs seem broken too, Lin Qiushi typed at hand-blurring speed. Plus the wounds on his back…

Ruan Nanzhu was silent in contemplation.

Lin Qiushi: I have a hypothesis.

Ruan Nanzhu looked up, and met Lin Qiushi’s dark eyes. He knew that, at this moment, they were thinking of the exact same thing: “Jiang Yingrui died last night?”

Lin Qiushi nodded somberly.

Ruan Nanzhu, “that’s certainly possible.”

Upon close thought, the Jiang Yingrui who appeared before them that morning was nothing but suspicious. Since he’d already inferred Ruan Nanzhu’s hand in the matter, had nothing happened, then he would have taken the 502 card off the door first thing, as proof that Ruan Nanzhu killed those people. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d disappeared for a long time, arriving late only after the crowd had gathered.

When he arrived he hadn’t looked well. Lin Qiushi hadn’t given it much thought, given the night before—it would’ve been more odd if he’d looked well.

But with careful examination, there did indeed seem to be some subtle clues. Like the fact that Jiang Yingrui had changed outfits. Also, after saying what he did and discovering he couldn’t prove Ruan Nanzhu was guilty, he’d left without a second thought.

Then, not long after, he died right here.

Lin Qiushi thought about the Russian nesting dolls Ruan Nanzhu had fished out of his pocket.

Ruan Nanzhu said, “tell me, is he actually dead or what.” His fingertip rubbed at that plain-looking matryoshka.

Lin Qiushi shook his head, indicating he didn’t know.

Ruan Nanzhu, “I think not.” He began to laugh, voice low. “Look at the ripped-open wound. Doesn’t it look like something climbed out?”

Lin Qiushi, “…” He hadn’t thought it until Ruan Nanzhu mentioned it, and once it was in his head, he felt all his hairs standing on end.

It was like he could see it, something struggling in Jiang Yingrui’s abdomen, until it finally tore open his stomach and squeezed its way out by force.

Lin Qiushi: The girl who first discovered the corpse. What’s her name again?

“Hu Die,” Ruan Nanzhu replied. “I don’t really remember her.”

Lin Qiushi: Mh, got it.

Watching them speak was like watching sign language; Feng Yongle was completely mystified. In the end he couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “what in the world are you two talking about? What do you mean Jiang Yingrui died last night? If he’s dead how did he appear here?”

Ruan Nanzhu shot him a look. “How did you make it to the sixth door again?”

Feng Yongle, “I got lucky.”

At his words, Lin Qiushi was strangely reminded of Cheng Qianli. On some level those two came to the same achievements, though by playing different tunes…

What Ruan Nanzhu couldn’t stand the most was ten thousand why’s. Had this been outside the doors, he might have upped and left already. But it couldn’t be helped. Inside, his name was Ruan Baijie, and his attitude was just the teeniest tiniest bit better, as he clapped Feng Yongle on the shoulder and said, “since you got here by luck alone, do you really need to know so much?”

Feng Yongle, “…” What you’re saying makes sense, but nevertheless I’d like to refute it.

Watching their interaction, Lin Qiushi wanted to laugh. Honestly, he was starting to suspect that the real reason Ruan Nanzhu approved of himself at first was because he didn’t have a strong sense of curiosity, and didn’t like asking why.

Because of Jiang Yingrui’s death, the three of them began to take note of that girl named Hu Die.

Though her name meant butterfly, she wasn’t very good-looking. Neither was she particularly social. Though she’d partnered with another guy, the two were often separated.

People like this actually weren’t uncommon inside the doors. After all, on the inside, before a partner could firmly be trusted, it was actually safer to move alone.

Hu Die was such a case. Even dining in the cafeteria, she did alone, leaving right after she ate without any muddling about.

Her behavior wasn’t odd at all, to the point where even Lin Qiushi wondered if perhaps they’d overthought this. Because according to their deductions, there were indeed some points of suspicion.

“We’ve got overtime tonight, let’s eat some more,” Feng Yongle said at dinnertime, where he ate a lot more than usual. “I really hope we can successfully find the tunnel.”

Lin Qiushi nodded in approximate agreement with Feng Yongle’s statement.

A lot could be said to have happened today. The moment they let their guards down, three people had died, and the death sentence that finally arrived put everybody on edge—though it also, oddly enough, let them breathe a sigh of relief. At least, if they couldn’t find the key to get out, the odds of them surviving had gotten better.

When 8 o'clock came, the sanitarium fell to silence.

Lin Qiushi had found the opportunity to hand the 502 room card to Ruan Nanzhu for safekeeping, though he didn’t know where Ruan Nanzhu had hidden it either.

The three lied in bed waiting for nightfall. Soon enough, there came the familiar sound of high heels striking the floor outside.

“Are we really going out?” Feng Yongle seemed quite anxious.

“Mh. If you’re scared you can stay inside.” Ruan Nanzhu wasn’t about to force Feng Yongle.

“Never mind, I’ll go with you two.” Thinking on it, Feng Yongle seemed a bit embarrassed. “After all, you’re a couple of ladies… If something were to happen, it’d be good if I were on hand.”

Lin Qiushi eyed Ruan Nanzhu, thinking this lady was probably quite a lot stronger than you.

Something came to Ruan Nanzhu’s mind then that made him firmly insist that Feng Yongle stayed behind. Feng Yongle was planning to retort at first, but Ruan Nanzhu stuck a hand out and clasped him by the shoulder.

“You will stay here,” Ruan Nanzhu told him. “Got it?”

“Ah… Ah… Got it, got it, be gentle…” Feng Yongle thought his shoulder would break under the pressure—it was his first time discovering this little lady had such incredible strength!

“Mh,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “We’re going.”

The two waited for the moment the heels were gone, and rain straight for the stairs on their left. Once they’d made sure the thing hadn’t followed, they let out a breath.

Without Feng Yongle around, Lin Qiushi could finally speak. He asked quietly, “why didn’t you let Feng Yongle come along?”

Ruan Nanzhu replied quite calmly, “I thought he’d hold us back.”

Lin Qiushi, “…that’s it?” He’d thought there was some other problem with Feng Yongle.

After some silence, Ruan Nanzhu: “He asks too many questions.”

Lin Qiushi, “…” This was the real reason, wasn’t it…

Ruan Nanzhu, “let’s go.”

Following behind him, the two ran straight for the corpse storage room.

That room was on a corner of the third floor. Once they arrived they didn’t hurry in, but examined their surroundings for a bit.

Lin Qiushi said quietly, “nobody’s came yet.”

Ruan Nanzhu, “we’ll wait.”

The patients piled in the halls had all disappeared. It was as if, once night fell, the sanitarium was left with only that deathly silence. Hospital bed after hospital bed cluttered the hall, their sheets populated with all sorts of stains and putting off quite the nauseous smell.

A place like this—rather than a place where patients came to heal, it was more like a place where patients’ deaths were sped up.

The two stood at the mouth of the stairwell, waiting for any noise or movement beyond. It was the right decision not to bring Feng Yongle. He clearly didn’t have the type of personality that let him sit still in waiting. Lin Qiushi stood where he was, playing sudoku on his phone. Ruan Nanzhu stood by his side, silently watching. The atmosphere between the two was enough to dampen the traces of terror around them.

Around 10PM or so, there came a noise from the hallway.

Lin Qiushi came alert at once, putting his phone away immediately.

Ruan Nanzhu crept silently to the corner where the stairs turned out, glancing down in the direction of the hallway.

“How’s it looking?” Lin Qiushi asked quietly. “Have people come to clear out the corpses?”

Ruan Nanzhu glanced back with a strange expression.

At this, Lin Qiushi came too to the corner, looking toward the store of corpses as well. Instantly, he understood the reason for Ruan Nanzhu’s expression. Because the corpses were being moved. Just not by people, but by themselves.

Bodies wrapped in black hopped stiffly out of the room, heading down the hallway for the other end.

Lin Qiushi, “…” You guys really are saving the hospital time and effort, even in death.

Ruan Nanzhu, “come on. Let’s follow them.”

Lin Qiushi nodded.

The two couldn’t be sure if the corpses would notice them, and so kept their motions careful. They crept along the wall, and did their best not to make any sounds.

The bodies inside the bags hopped along in an orderly fashion. When he came to their sides, Lin Qiushi couldn’t help but hold his breath.

Ruan Nanzhu suddenly took him by the hand.

Lin Qiushi startled, and saw Ruan Nanzhu mouth at him: Relax.

Something in Lin Qiushi’s chest unclenched; he really did feel less nervous. To tell the truth, though they came across this sort of thing on the regular, this was still the first time he got so close to them. The two followed the bouncing corpses down two flights of stairs, to the lobby of the first story.

Soon enough, they found what they came to find—a tunnel hidden behind the stairwell.

The tunnel by day looked like a tiny metal door kept shut. Because it was so small, and blockaded by all sorts of debris, it was hard for anyone to take notice.

Now though, the door was open, revealing the inky dark tunnel behind it. These bodies were slowly making their way into the tunnel in quite the orderly fashion.

Lin Qiushi watched the tunnel. “Should we go in and have a look?”

Ruan Nanzhu said, “no. Now that we know where it is, we’ll take a look tomorrow morning.” Going in under the current circumstances would be quite risky. They didn’t know what was inside, after all.

“So we’re headed back?” Lin Qiushi queried quietly.

“Mh,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Let’s go.”

Lin Qiushi complied. Ruan Nanzhu was an old hand at this, after all, and was certainly more experienced in matters like this.

And so the two returned along the hallways back to their quarters.

However, on their way back, Lin Qiushi suddenly spotted something. He said, hesitantly, “Nanzhu, is that a light on the top floor?”

Ruan Nanzhu glanced in that direction, and frowned. “That’s the dean’s office.”

Lin Qiushi halted.

Ruan Nanzhu, “someone’s in there.”

Lin Qiushi, “should we go have a look?”

And after a brief moment of pondering, Ruan Nanzhu nodded his head.

Translator’s Note:

1. “恨鐵不成鋼” is the phrase used here, meaning “resenting the iron for not becoming steel.” It means being disappointed that whatever’s at hand has failed to meet expectations. Translating the entire image feels a bit excessive at this point in the narrative, so I just went with “exasperated” instead.

Names in this chapter:

• 蝴蝶 / Hú Dié / Hu(2) Die(2)
• Very literally means butterfly. It’s clearly a pseudonym.