Chapter 138: Revenge
Just as before, the moment Old Hei’s broadcast cut out, the squad’s private channel began pinging with notifications.
[Cute and Sparkling]: Boss, Boss! Please carry me through this one!
[Fastest Hand at SF Express]: It’s an individual instance this time, right? I don’t think the Boss can carry anyone.
[Peace and Violence]: Boss, will we land in the same area once we load in? Is there any chance to meet up?
[Bone Ashes Mixed with Rice]: When you enter the instance, everyone gets assigned to an isolated room. Each room has its own set of rules and psychological puzzles. You have to use your head to find the exit and break through into the corridor. The corridors and the central lounge are shared spaces—we can regroup there.
As she sent the message, she distributed the spirit walkie-talkies she had prepared earlier, passing one to each member.
[Bone Ashes Mixed with Rice]: The individual rooms have spatial barriers, so these probably won’t get a signal inside. The moment you step into the hallway, try reaching each other immediately to form groups.
[Milk Tea Seven Parts Sugar]: Rule-based puzzles? I’m actually good at those! As long as I don’t have to go toe-to-toe with powerful ghosts, I’ll be fine.
[Sister Cai]: …What if I don’t have a brain for riddles? I hate word games more than anything. I’m completely doomed…
Because the rules differed from room to room, there was little else Lin Huai could explain in advance. After a few brief words of encouragement, she tapped the registration prompt and confirmed her entry.
A flash of bright white light washed over her vision.
When the glare faded, she was standing in the middle of a filthy, chaotic kitchen.
Flickering blue flames licked the bottom of a stove burner. In a heavy iron pot, an oily liquid was boiling violently, spitting thick bubbles that filled the cramped room with a sickening, rotten stench.
The sink beside it was stacked high with greasy, unwashed plates. The tap was running at full blast, the dark water spilling over the edges of the basin and pooling across the stained floor tiles.
On the nearby cutting board, dark red stains had soaked into the wood. A heavy cleaver lay casually against a pale, severed human arm—resting there as if waiting to be chopped and tossed straight into the stew.
Lin Huai lifted her boot with a soft, sticky squelch. The grime on the floor pulled at her soles like wet glue.
Behind her stood a worn wooden door without a single peephole. A collection of colorful sticky notes was plastered across the wood, half-hidden beneath hanging aprons and rubber gloves.
Room assignments were completely random; this filthy kitchen was entirely different from the chamber she had drawn in her previous life.
She stepped over to the door, peeling off the scattered notes one by one to read the rules carefully.
[Room 444 Safety Regulations]
- You are safe. Please believe you are completely safe.
- The soup boiling in the pot is safe to drink.
- The faucet in the sink must not be turned off. All dirty dishes must be washed and returned to the cupboard.
- The food in the refrigerator is strictly inedible.
- The exit is hidden inside the range hood.
- Exactly one of these regulations is a lie.
As Lin Huai studied the contradictory lines, a cheerful, synthesized chime rang out across the ceiling.
[Player Bone Ashes Mixed with Rice, welcome to the Spooky Apartment. Your assigned chamber is: The Kitchen. You must discover the correct exit and escape within thirty minutes, or you will face immediate elimination.]
Lin Huai waved the colorful slips of paper toward the ceiling, arching an eyebrow. “Are these safety guidelines accurate?”
[Take a wild guess~] the voice sang back playfully.
Hearing the smug, mechanical cadence, Lin Huai froze. Her brow furrowed as she tested a name: “The Sphinx?”
The system assistant’s tone dropped instantly, sounding thoroughly annoyed.
[I really hate that you still remember me. And no, you don’t get a prize for guessing right.]
A sudden wave of dread washed over her. “Don’t tell me… you designed the rules for this room?”
[Hehe, you nailed it again! So, what do you think? Aren’t my puzzle mechanics delightfully fun?]
Lin Huai couldn’t care less about fun.
Her real problem was that she deeply doubted a single word written on these papers. Retribution had arrived far too quickly—she had landed right back in this petty proctor’s trap.
She looked down at the notes again.
Rule Two claimed the soup on the stove was safe to drink. Lin Huai walked over, picked up a greasy ladle, and stirred the dark broth. Two clouded human eyeballs and a severed tongue bobbed up from the murky bottom.
Unless this was an underworld kitchen, nobody was drinking this slop. Lin Huai mentally crossed out Rule Two without a second thought. It was an obvious lie.
Next, she pulled open the refrigerator door. Resting on the wire shelves were several plates of cold dishes that looked entirely normal—braised pork ears and spiced trotters. They looked freshly prepared and smelled appetizing.
She picked them up to inspect the meat closely, found no traces of foul Yin energy, and stowed them into her storage pouch for later.
Rule Four was also completely false.
With two proven lies already in hand, Rule Six—which claimed only one rule was false—was invalidated as well.
The Sphinx had tossed out a set of completely fabricated rules just to mess with her. Keeping her guard up was definitely the right move.
That left Rules One, Three, and Five.
The exit is in the range hood?
Lin Huai peered up at the greasy metal hood mounted above the stove. How was anyone supposed to squeeze out through that?
Deciding to test it directly, she reached up, gripped the metal housing with both hands, and ripped the range hood clean off the wall. Just as she suspected, Rule Five was another total fabrication. Behind the casing sat only a narrow, rusted exhaust pipe—far too tight for an adult to crawl through.
Now only Rules One and Three remained. Rule One claimed she was completely safe.
Lin Huai surveyed the narrow, blood-splattered room, utterly unconvinced.
Rule Three told her to wash the dishes and leave the faucet running.
After considering her options, she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves from the door and walked cautiously toward the sink, curious to see what would happen if she played along.
The instant her fingers broke the surface of the cold water, a dark silhouette burst out from beneath the greasy plates!
A bloated, waterlogged ghoul lunged through the spray, dripping foul, rotten slime across the counter!
“Hahaha! You touched the water!”
The ghoul’s grating laugh rattled through the tiny room, accompanied by the wet squelch of soaked flesh. “It’s your turn now… stay behind and take my place!”
Lin Huai’s pupils contracted. On pure instinct, she kicked off the floor and sprang backward, raising her right hand to summon her massive war scythe.
Clang!
The kitchen was far too cramped! The moment the long crescent blade materialized, it wedged tightly between the low ceiling and the concrete floor, jamming fast.
“Tsk!” Lin Huai gritted her teeth in frustration.
The water ghost was already upon her, its swollen, grayish-white talons slashing straight for her eyes!
Without hesitation, Lin Huai let go of the scythe handle. Her left hand darted into her talisman pouch, drawing a Five Emperors Copper Coin Sword in a single, fluid strike!
The ancient coins flared with a sharp golden light, forcing the ghoul to twist violently to the side. Its matted, dripping hair brushed against the edge of the blade, hissing and smoking like raw meat on a hot griddle.
Taking advantage of the opening, Lin Huai recalled the trapped scythe into her inventory with a flick of will. She transferred the copper coin sword to her dominant right hand and stepped into an aggressive counterattack!
Yet the small space severely restricted her footwork. Every time she swung, the water ghost dissolved into wet mist, ducking around the strike before reforming across the room.
The force of her spiritual blade swept across the counters, shattering stacks of porcelain plates and cutting deep gouges into the cupboards. Yet through it all, the ghoul sneered from the far corner, without a single scratch on its bloated skin.
Lin Huai’s eyes narrowed. It was an intermediate-tier water ghost. In such a tight space, basic exorcism weapons simply lacked the reach and stopping power to finish it cleanly.
