The sense of being pulled back to reality remains strong, as if one has been abruptly dragged from a vivid, suffocating, blood-red dream back to a less saturated real world.
The familiar ceiling light in the apartment cast a steady white glow. Outside the window were the ordinary neon lights of the city at night. There were no eerie broadcasts, no beating hearts, only the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint sound of traffic coming from downstairs.
Zhang Daoyi stood in the center of the living room, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.
There was no smell of formaldehyde or blood in the air, only a faint scent of his own life.
He checked himself immediately; the slight burn on his palm had disappeared, as if it had never existed.
But the stronger power surging within him, the clearer and broader perception in his mind, and the cold [Silent Curse Crystal] in his inventory all silently proclaimed the reality of the life-or-death battle just now.
He took off his school uniform, damp and dusty from the basement, and threw it directly into the trash can before walking into the bathroom. The warm water washed over his body, cleansing not only the grime but also a sense of mental exhaustion and lingering eeriness.
Amidst the sound of flowing water, he closed his eyes, reviewing every detail of "The Abandoned Schoolhouse." From utilizing his "Night Watchman" identity to judging the authenticity of the rules, and finally, the decisive action of destroying the core. The SS rating was an affirmation of his abilities and choices, but it also meant that his future path would be even more arduous.
"Suitable based on talent level (stronger)..." He recalled the game's initial prompt. What level was his "identity" ability classified as? What identity would he face next, and what difficulty level of scenario?
After taking a shower and changing into clean loungewear, Zhang Daoyi felt much more relaxed.
He opened the refrigerator, took out the ingredients, and prepared to cook himself a simple dinner. The sizzling sound of the fried eggs in the pan contrasted sharply with the eerie noises in the school building, giving him a sense of grounded peace. He deliberately slowed down, enjoying this rare moment of tranquility that belonged to an "ordinary person."
Just then, his phone, which he had tossed on the sofa, started vibrating inconveniently and frantically. The screen lit up, displaying a name he knew all too well—"Fatty Zhao".
Zhao Qiang, his best friend from university, was his roommate who slept in the bunk below him. He was loyal and righteous, with an outgoing personality bordering on being a chatterbox. He could talk about anything from international affairs to the cat belonging to the old lady downstairs, and he was incredibly witty and cunning—a typical example of a darkly humorous person. Although they went their separate ways after graduation, they never lost touch.
Zhang Daoyi wiped his hands, picked up his phone, and as soon as he swiped to answer, a barrage of words came from the other end:
"Hey Dao Yi! What's wrong with you? I called you eight hundred times and you didn't answer, and you didn't reply to my WeChat messages! I thought you'd been kidnapped by some rich woman and taken to a dark room! I was almost going to call the police and report you as a missing person!"
The familiar, loud voice, filled with undisguised concern and teasing, instantly dispelled the last trace of gloom in Zhang Daoyi's heart. A slight smile unconsciously crept onto his lips as he held the phone further away.
"Something came up, just finished." He said succinctly, his voice slightly hoarse from having just experienced a brush with death.
"Busy? You, a programmer, can be so busy you're saving the world?" Zhao Qiang clearly didn't believe it, but he keenly noticed the strangeness in his voice. "Hey, your voice sounds off. Do you have a cold? Or... has something really happened?"
Zhang Daoyi's heart skipped a beat. Although Fatty Zhao was talkative, he was extremely meticulous and had amazing observational skills.
"Nothing, just a little tired," he mumbled, changing the subject. "How have you been lately? Still swindling people at your consulting firm?"
"Tsk, what do you mean by swindling and cheating? My guy uses his exceptional insight and persuasive skills to solve problems for clients and create value!" Zhao Qiang immediately perked up and began to talk non-stop. "But speaking of recent events... hey, something really weird has happened."
His tone suddenly lowered, carrying a hint of mystery, yet also a barely concealed excitement.
"Oh?" Zhang Daoyi calmly placed the fried egg onto a plate.
"Just a few days ago, I took on a side job, helping a friend investigate his competitor's dirty laundry. It was supposed to be simple—the usual tailing and probing. But guess what?" Zhao Qiang paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts.
"I followed that bastard into an old office building, and that building... was creepy! In broad daylight, the hallway was eerily quiet, and the lights were flickering. I followed him around a corner, and then I couldn't find him anywhere! It was supposed to be a straight corridor!"
Zhang Daoyi paused slightly in the hand holding the chopsticks.
"Then what?"
"And then? Then I felt a chill run down my spine, like countless eyes were staring at me. I got really scared, remembering those rumors online... you know." Zhao Qiang's voice carried a hint of lingering fear, but more than that, a thrill like discovering a new continent. "I immediately wanted to run away, and guess what happened?"
"What's wrong?"
"I only had one thought in my mind at that moment: don't panic, I have to 'lie' it." Zhao Qiang's tone carried a hint of smugness. "I pretended to answer the phone and said very loudly, 'Hello? Captain Wang! You're downstairs? Okay, okay, I'll send you the surveillance evidence right away, this bastard won't get away!' After saying that, I also shouted into the empty corridor, 'Buddy, the police are here, you'd better deal with it!'"
"…" Zhang Daoyi listened silently.
"Hey! That's amazing!" Zhao Qiang exclaimed excitedly. "As soon as I shouted, that feeling of being stared at disappeared instantly! The lights in the hallway stopped flickering! I quickly ran back the way I came, and nothing happened! Later, I started thinking, did I... also encounter that 'rule game'? And buddy, I think I also... awakened something?"
Zhang Daoyi's eyes sharpened. Fatty Zhao got in too? And he even "passed" using his unique method? His ability to "trick" people...
"What have you awakened?" he pressed, his tone still calm.
"I can't quite explain it, it's just a feeling." Zhao Qiang clicked his tongue. "It seems... it's easier for people to believe me? Or rather, it's easier for me to weave some 'reasonable illusions'? Anyway, since then, my success rate in getting information out of people has increased dramatically, almost making my client laugh himself to death. Dao Yi, do you think this counts as a blessing in disguise, like I've gained a superpower?"
[Fraudster]? Or [Psychological Expert]? Several possible identities flashed through Zhang Daoyi's mind.
If Zhao Pangzi's personality and abilities were to awaken, he would most likely be someone inclined towards deception, manipulation, or information acquisition.
"Maybe you just have a strong mentality and guessed right." Zhang Daoyi didn't point it out, but just said calmly, "Go to those kinds of places less often in the future, things haven't been peaceful lately."
"I know, I know, I'm pretty careful with my life!" Zhao Qiang chuckled. "But seriously, if there really is some kind of 'game,' it sounds pretty exciting! By the way, be careful lately. I have a feeling this isn't as simple as it seems. Maybe... this is just the beginning."
The call ended amidst Zhao Qiang's rambling instructions and lighthearted banter.
Putting down his phone, Zhang Daoyi gazed at the deep night outside the window, his eyes profound.
Fatty Zhao's experience confirms that the scope of the game of rules is constantly expanding, even drawing in ordinary white-collar workers like him (Albeit is a cunning white-collar worker). Moreover, the abilities that different people awaken seem to be truly related to their own traits.
He went to the computer and logged into the encrypted "Rule Ghost Story Survivors" forum. Sure enough, the forum was more active than before, with a significant increase in newly registered IDs, and a flood of help requests and experience-sharing posts. The pressure on the official "Anomaly Phenomenon Investigation and Folk Culture Research Center" was probably mounting.
He needs to improve himself more quickly. He not only has to deal with crises within the game, but also the undercurrents in the real world, and friends and relatives like Fatty Zhao who are caught up in these situations—all of these could become problems he needs to confront.
He opened the internal system to prepare a concise report on the "Abandoned School Building" mission (omitting details of his core abilities and SS rating). At the same time, he also needed to consciously collect and analyze more information about the different manifestations of his "abilities".
The next game is uncertain; it might be a mandatory two-week deadline, or it might be sooner.
He must make good use of this "normal" time, not only for physical recovery, but also for accumulating intelligence, thinking about strategies, and... patiently waiting for the next "random identity" to arrive.
He glanced at the silver crystal in his inventory, then thought of Fatty Zhao's loud yet witty voice.
The world is changing rapidly, and cracks have already appeared. He and his "entry identity" are destined to forge their own path within these cracks.
The night was still long, but for Zhang Daoyi, his rest time was over.
He moved the mouse, opened the search bar of the internal database, and entered keywords: "ability type", "real-world impact", "player organization"...As night deepened, the city continued to bustle outside the window, but inside Zhang Daoyi's apartment, there was only the faint sound of keyboard typing and the dim light emanating from the screen.
After finishing the task report for the center, which had been heavily edited and revised, he did not rest. Instead, with an inquisitive mindset, he immersed himself in the personal interface that was bound to the "Rules Game" platform.
The interface is simple and cold, with his personal information as the main element:
[Player: Zhang Daoyi]
Rank: Bronze II (4 stars/5 stars)
Points: 430
(Midnight Taxi: 80 points; Abandoned School Building: 350 points)
(Points aren't that important, a few are fine!)
His gaze fell on the [Points Mall] option, and with a slight thought, the interface switched.
Without any fancy decorations, a list that seemed to be made of pure light appeared before him.
The list is divided into several main categories, but as he already knew, many areas are grayed out in lower ranks, displaying the message "[Insufficient rank to browse]". Currently, only two areas are open to him:
[Consumables] and [Low-Tier/Trial] items.
===Consumables===
[Primary Healing Agents]
Effects: Accelerates the healing of non-fatal physical wounds; has a weak effect on regular injuries.
Price: 50 points/serving
[Basic Mental Stimulant]
Effects: Slightly restores mental energy and relieves mental fatigue; ineffective against severe mental pollution.
Price: 50 points/serving
Concentrated nutrient solution (flavor random)
Effect: Provides an adult with the basic energy and water requirements for one day.
Price: 10 points/serving
===[Low-Tier/Trial] Items===
(Note: Most of these items have limited uses or weak effects, and some are bound items and cannot be traded.)
Inferior quality concealment dust
Effect: After being released, it creates visual interference within a small area, reducing its presence for 30 seconds. Effective against eerie phenomena that rely on vision. Usable uses: 1/1
Price: 100 points
[The Rusty Barrier-Breaking Dagger]
Effect: Has a slight destructive effect on low-level spirits, barriers, or rule-based obstacles. Physical attack power is negligible. Usable times: 3/3
Price: 150 points
[One-time Rule Surveyor]
Effect: After use, performs a regular fluctuation scan on a specified small area, with a low probability of discovering hidden rule clues or traps. Usable times: 1/1
Price: 120 points
[Weak Lucky Charm (Damaged)]
Effect: Wearing this might give you a slight edge in dire situations? The effect is questionable. It activates passively and cannot be actively activated.
Price: 200 points
The items in the mall were even more practical than he had expected, to the point of being shabby.
Healing and recovery potions are essential, but they are expensive; a single basic treatment can consume most of his earnings from "Midnight Taxi." Items are even more so—their effects are limited, the number of uses is stingy, yet their price can easily reach hundreds of points.
His current 430 points seem like a lot, but a closer look reveals they're barely enough to last. Buying two healing potions and one stimulant takes away 150 points. Buying another decent item will immediately deplete his points. And these points are fundamental to his ability to acquire resources, advance his rank, and even exchange for money in the real world (though he doesn't currently lack them).
"Barriers…" Zhang Daoyi muttered to himself. This points shop is itself a huge filtering mechanism. It provides the most basic survival guarantee and a little bit of assistance that is better than nothing, but truly powerful items, possible skill books, and even information about the game itself are firmly locked behind higher ranks.
This forces players to constantly participate in the game and strive for higher ratings in order to accumulate points like a snowball and unlock more possibilities. Laziness and fear have no place here.
He carefully weighed his own needs.
Healing and mental recovery potions are essential life-saving trump cards. Without hesitation, he spent 100 points to purchase 1 [Basic Healing Potion] and 1 [Basic Mental Stimulant]. In a flash, two antique-looking vials, seemingly made of a mixture of wood and glass, appeared in his inventory (a separate consciousness space independent of reality, only capable of storing game-related items).
He needed to carefully consider the remaining 330 points.
In terms of items, the [Rusty Barrier-Breaking Dagger] and the [Disposable Rule Surveyor] seem to be the most practical. One provides limited proactive ability to break through obstacles, while the other increases the probability of finding a way out. However, both cost a combined 270 points, which is expensive.
While the effectiveness of the [Weak Luck Amulet] is questionable, the mystical attribute of "luck" can sometimes be more useful than a real weapon in the world of supernatural tales.
After a moment's thought, he made a decision:
Purchase 1 Disposable Rule Surveyor (-120 points)
Purchase [Weak Luck Charm (Damaged)] x1 (-200 points)
He'd temporarily abandon the [Rusty Barrier-Breaking Dagger]. He preferred to rely on his own wisdom and randomized identity abilities to break through the predicament, rather than depending on a weapon with limited effectiveness and few uses. The [Rule Surveyor] could provide crucial information, while the [Lucky Amulet] was an investment in unknown probabilities.
At this point, his points balance plummeted to 10 points. The generous reward he had just received was almost completely gone in the blink of an eye, leaving only a tiny fraction of it.
Looking at his almost empty points inventory, Zhang Daoyi didn't feel much heartache. Points only have meaning when converted into tangible survival resources. He added the two newly acquired items to his inventory, placing them side by side with the precious silver-grade [Silent Curse Crystal].
After finishing all this, he closed the shop interface, feeling a wave of mental exhaustion wash over him. The intense gaming, reviewing the game, writing reports, and making the decisions he had just made had all taken a toll. He took the bottle of [Basic Mental Stimulant] he had just bought, and a cool, soothing sensation spread through him, quickly relieving his fatigue and clearing his mind.
He walked to the window and looked down at the pedestrians and vehicles returning home at night. The current state of the points mall confirmed the cruelty and "fairness" of this "cosmic arena"—it gives all players a chance to get started, but the road to power is full of thorns and choices.
Newcomers like Fatty Zhao will continue to emerge, and higher-ranked players and organizations (who may become accessible after reaching Gold rank) will inevitably possess richer resources and greater power. He cannot afford to relax in the slightest.
The next game could come at any time; it might be mandatory or random. He had to make good use of this time.
He picked up his phone and sent a message to Zhao Qiang: "Fatty, pay close attention to people and things that seem odd around you lately, especially... anything that feels 'off' but can 'explain' itself. Contact me immediately if you find anything."
He needed more information channels, and Fatty Zhao's abilities and social network might be a good source of intelligence. At the same time, he himself needed to be more proactive in collecting and analyzing information within the "center" and on the survivor forum.
His gaze returned to the few lonely items in his inventory.
The road ahead is long, resources are scarce, and the future is uncertain.
But Zhang Daoyi remained remarkably calm. He was accustomed to relying on himself and finding opportunities in adversity. His identity was a variable, points and items were secondary, but the true core was always his own mind and will.
He turned off the living room light and went into the bedroom. Rest is to welcome the next dawn, and after dawn, what will inevitably come... night and games.As the dizziness from the teleportation subsided, the first thing to rush into my nostrils was not the expected stench of blood, but an old, luxurious, and oppressive scent—a mixture of polished wax, old wood, dried flowers, and a faint, almost imperceptible…sweet, decaying aroma.
Zhang Daoyi found himself standing in a dimly lit corridor covered with a thick, deep red carpet. The walls were paneled with dark wood, and hung classical portraits with somber brushstrokes and figures whose eyes seemed to follow the viewer. The air was still, and in the distance, faint classical music drifted out, as if muffled by several walls.
He looked down and found himself wearing an exceptionally well-fitting, impeccably tailored black butler uniform, complete with a white shirt, bow tie, gloves, and even an exquisite silver badge with an intricate family crest pinned to his chest.
The script for "The Bloody Banquet" has been launched.
[Type: Single-player Deduction/Survival (SS Difficulty)]
[Background: You are hired by the mysterious Howard family as a temporary butler for one night at their ancient manor. A dinner party for family members and a select few is about to begin. Remember, serve, and... survive.]
[Warning: A supernatural entity has infiltrated the banquet. It cannot attack directly with supernatural powers, but it excels at disguise, manipulation, and setting traps. Its goal is to ensure that at least one "guest" (including you) is properly executed or permanently imprisoned before the banquet ends.]
[Rules: The banquet will last for 24 hours. During this time, the manor will be completely closed, and anyone who attempts to leave by force will trigger an unknown penalty.]
It is among the current participants, perfectly mimicking humans.
To identify a guest, one must present an irrefutable and logically sound chain of evidence in front of everyone. Success ends the game; failure results in the person making the identification being punished for disrupting order and defaming a guest.
Surviving until the end of the banquet without being successfully framed will allow you to pass the level.
[Method 1 for passing the level: Find the hidden anomaly and successfully identify it.]
[Second way to pass: Survive for 24 hours and not be convicted.]
In the upper left corner of the field of vision, a label box appears, carrying a hint of unsettling irony:
[Random Identity This Time: Fraudster]
[Ability List: Eloquent (Passive): Your words are more persuasive, making it easier to gain trust or weave convincing lies.]
Master of Disguise (Active, 2/2): Can mimic another person's handwriting, tone of voice, or behavioral habits for a short period of time with remarkable accuracy. Each session lasts 5 minutes.
Crisis Shifting (Proactive, 1/1): Try to redirect suspicion or crisis directed at yourself to another target through language and guidance. Success rate depends on the target's mindset, existing evidence, and your persuasive techniques.
A fraudster! Zhang Daoyi felt a chill run down his spine. This identity offered no direct combat or investigative capabilities, yet it was rife with cunning and uncertainty. In this environment where discerning truth from falsehood was crucial, and the constant threat of being framed was like dancing on a knife's edge.
He quickly straightened the collar of his uniform, making himself look more like a well-trained butler. As a butler, he had the advantage of a certain degree of freedom of movement within the manor and the convenience of interacting with all the guests. But just as easily, he was also more likely to become a target or get caught up in inexplicable trouble.
He walked down the corridor, pushed open two heavy oak doors carved with twisted vines and unfamiliar faces, and officially entered the main banquet hall.
The scene was more...gothic, and more bizarre than he had imagined.
The hall was extremely spacious, with a high, domed ceiling and huge chandeliers hanging from it, each lit with countless white candles. The flickering candlelight cast unsettling shadows. There were about a dozen guests, scattered throughout. The men wore old-fashioned tailcoats, and the women wore elaborate gowns; they moved with elegance, conversed in hushed tones, and wore perfectly measured social smiles.
But Zhang Daoyi's intuition as a con artist allowed him to keenly detect the anomaly beneath that perfect etiquette:
A noblewoman fanned herself with a sweet smile, but her gaze swept over others with a coldness as if she were assessing merchandise.
A young gentleman was holding a wine glass, chatting and laughing with someone, but his fingers were unconsciously and excessively tapping on the side of the glass.
An old man sat in an armchair by the fireplace, seemingly dozing, but the frequency of his eyeballs moving under his eyelids was unnaturally fast.
Everyone seemed to be wearing an exquisitely crafted mask. And it was hidden beneath these masks.
"Butler." A deep voice sounded beside him.
Zhang Daoyi turned around and saw a tall, serious-looking, and more elegantly dressed elderly butler—presumably the manor's original chief butler, his superior.
"I am Sebastian." The old butler's eyes gleamed as he scrutinized him. "Tonight, your duty is to ensure the smooth running of the banquet and to meet the reasonable needs of your guests. Remember, the honor of the Howard family cannot be tarnished." His words carried an unquestionable authority, along with a hint of warning. "Pay particular attention to… any 'discordant' elements. Report to me immediately if you find any."
Zhang Daoyi bowed slightly: "Understood, Mr. Sebastian."
He realized that the old butler might know something, or rather, he was also part of this "game," perhaps a neutral maintainer of order, or perhaps... something more complex.
The dinner began in an atmosphere that appeared harmonious but was actually fraught with tension.
Zhang Daoyi diligently fulfilled his duties as butler, directing the waiters and attending to the guests' needs. His silver tongue allowed him to easily handle various inquiries, making him appear quite adept. However, his mind and senses remained constantly on high alert; his shrewdness and con artist instincts drove him to analyze everyone's words and actions, searching for any possible flaws.
The first hour was calm and peaceful.
The incident occurred after a small chamber music performance.
A young female guest named Fiona suddenly let out a short scream. Pale-faced, she pointed to her handbag on the coffee table—it had been slashed open with a sharp blade, and a family heirloom emerald brooch was missing!
"What's going on?!" Butler Sebastian appeared immediately, his face grim.
All the guests were alarmed and gathered around.
"I was sitting there listening to music," Fiona said, her voice trembling with tears, "I left for a little while to get some drinks…and when I came back…"
"Who did this?" a hot-tempered male guest, Sir Humphrey, roared gruffly, "To steal in this kind of setting!"
Their gazes began to wander among the guests, and suspicion began to fester.
As the butler serving at the scene, Zhang Daoyi naturally became the subject of questioning. With his silver tongue, he clearly recounted his actions during the time of the incident and provided several guests and waiters who could testify, temporarily clearing himself of suspicion.
But then, a waiter spoke up tremblingly, "I...I think I saw Mr. Daoyi...lingering near Miss Fiona's seat for a moment..."
Instantly, several suspicious gazes fell upon Zhang Daoyi!
The framing has begun! And it's happened so quickly!
Zhang Daoyi sneered inwardly, but maintained a calm expression: "I was checking if the flowers on the coffee table needed to be replaced, which is routine work. Moreover, I remember very clearly that Sir Humphrey was sitting on the sofa next to me at the time. He can testify that I only stopped briefly and did not touch Miss Fiona's personal belongings."
He turned his gaze to Sir Humphrey.
Sir Humphrey paused, frowned as if recalling something, and then nodded uncertainly: "It seems... there was such a thing."
He hadn't used the "crisis shifting" tactic yet; relying solely on his silver tongue and reasonable explanations, he temporarily defused this initial attack. But he knew this was just the beginning; "it" was testing him, searching for his weaknesses, and creating chaos.
In the following hours, a series of "unexpected" events occurred one after another:
A guest's wine glass inexplicably shattered, spilling wine all over a woman next to him, which sparked an argument.
An important document involving family privacy was found scattered in the common lounge.
One elderly guest even claimed that his sleeping pills, which he had placed in his room, had been replaced with laxatives.
Each event, seemingly independent and insignificant, was constantly eroding everyone's patience and trust, pushing the banquet atmosphere into an abyss of tension and suspicion. As the butler, Zhang Daoyi was inevitably drawn into the investigation and mediation, running himself ragged.
Using his position, he discreetly examined the scene of the theft (but failed to find the brooch) and questioned the guests involved, but to little avail. It was done so meticulously that almost no physical evidence was left.
Time passed and night deepened. The guests were led to their respective rooms to rest, but the tense atmosphere in the manor did not dissipate.
Zhang Daoyi was summoned to the study by the butler, Sebastian.
"Something is very wrong, Mr. Daoyi." The old butler frowned, the candlelight casting deep shadows on his face. "The banquet has never been so… chaotic. I suspect that something unclean has infiltrated our ranks."
He handed Zhang Daoyi a thick, leather-bound guest list. "This is a list of all the invitees and their background information. It might be useful to you. Remember, don't alert them before you have solid evidence. 'It'… is very cunning."
Holding the roster, Zhang Daoyi returned to the lounge assigned to the butler. It was a narrow but fully functional room.
He locked the door, immediately opened the register, and carefully read it by candlelight. The fraudster's keen senses allowed him to quickly spot any potentially falsified or contradictory information.
Sure enough, he discovered the problem!
The guest list indicated that a woman named "Eleanor Grey" was supposed to be widowed and suffer from severe hay fever. However, at tonight's dinner, the central flowerbed was filled with lilies, and the woman who identified herself as Eleanor not only showed no allergic symptoms but even approached the flowerbed several times to admire them!
Is the roster information outdated? Or... is this "Eleanor" a fake?
His heart skipped a beat. This was a breakthrough!
However, just as he was about to delve deeper into his thoughts—
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
A heavy knocking sounded, carrying an undeniable urgency.
Zhang Daoyi's heart tightened, and he quickly stuffed the roster under the mattress. "Who?"
"Open the door! Butler!" came Sir Humphrey's gruff voice, mixed with the murmurs of others.
He had barely opened the door when Sir Humphrey and two other male guests barged in, their faces grim.
"Search!" Sir Humphrey ordered directly.
"Sir, what does this mean?" Zhang Daoyi asked in a deep voice, blocking the doorway.
"What do you mean?" Sir Humphrey sneered, holding up something—it was Miss Fiona's stolen emerald brooch! "It was found in your coat pocket! Just now, a waiter saw you furtively adjusting your coat in the side room!"
Caught red-handed! The second frame-up came so swiftly and fatally!
All eyes were on him, filled with contempt and anger. Sebastian, the butler, also rushed over upon hearing the news, looking at Zhang Daoyi with a complicated expression.
The evidence is conclusive, with witnesses (the waiter) and physical evidence (the brooch). Any explanation seems weak and unconvincing.
Zhang Daoyi could feel the invisible noose tightening. [Crisis Shift] – there was only one chance, and it had to be used at the most critical moment. Using it now would have a low success rate because the evidence was too obvious.
His mind raced, the conman's train of thought rapidly analyzing the situation. When was the brooch placed in his pocket? When was the last time he checked his coat pocket? The waiter who pointed him out…
In a flash, he caught a detail! When the waiter pointed at him, his right little finger made an unnatural, slightly bent habitual movement! He had seen this movement on another person before—the woman who called herself Eleanor Grey, when she was fanning herself!
Imitation! [Master of Disguise]!
That waiter might have been briefly manipulated or imitated by "it"! Or perhaps, the waiter himself was "it" in disguise!
But how do you prove it? By pointing out that a waiter was in disguise? That sounds more like a crazy excuse.
Faced with this desperate situation, Zhang Daoyi calmed down completely. He met everyone's suspicious gazes with a perfectly timed, humiliating, and angry sneer.
"Sir Humphrey, gentlemen," his voice, amplified by his silver tongue, was clear and carried a strange persuasiveness, "I understand your anger. But consider this: if I were truly foolish enough to steal from guests, would I so easily place the stolen goods in my coat pocket, where they could be checked at any moment? Especially when a theft has just occurred and everyone is on high alert?"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on Sebastian, the butler: "This seems more like... a rather clumsy frame-up. Someone is eager to find a scapegoat to cover up their real, ulterior motives."
His words, like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, created ripples. Indeed, this behavior is somewhat illogical.
"Furthermore," Zhang Daoyi pressed, his gaze sharpening as he looked at the waiter who had identified him, "Are you sure you saw 'me'? In the dim light of the side hall, did you clearly see my face, and not just a figure in a butler's uniform?"
Under his intense gaze, the waiter's eyes flashed with panic, and he stammered, "I...I'm sure it's you, Mr. Daoyi..."
Zhang Daoyi stopped looking at him and turned to Sebastian: "Mr. Sebastian, I request a more detailed investigation into this matter. This includes checking the side room for any other traces, and... verifying all of the waiter's movements tonight."
Instead of directly accusing the waiter of wrongdoing, he threw the question back at the waiter and demanded a more in-depth investigation. This was in line with the butler's identity and logic, and it also bought him time.
Sebastian hesitated for a moment, glanced at Sir Humphrey, whose expression was uncertain, and the other guests, and finally nodded: "Until the truth comes out, Mr. Dao Yi, please remain in your room and do not move around freely. We will conduct an investigation."
This can be considered house arrest, but it avoids immediate "dealing" with him.
The crowd dispersed with a mix of complex emotions, and the room door was closed from the outside.
Zhang Daoyi leaned against the door, slowly exhaling a breath of stale air. His back was already soaked with cold sweat.
He narrowly escaped being framed twice. But its attacks only grew more intense. Suspicious details on the register, the waiter's unusual behavior, the framed brooch... clues began to emerge, but they also became increasingly perplexing.
Where is the real Eleanor Grey? Was the waiter manipulated? Was "it" ultimately just trying to create chaos and frame someone?
Outside the window, the castle-like manor was immersed in the thick, impenetrable darkness of night, like a lurking beast waiting to devour its prey.
The 24-hour survival game, the long night, is only halfway through. Even more dangerous conspiracies are surely yet to come.
Zhang Daoyi's gaze fell on the flickering candlelight in the room, his eyes cold and focused. The duel between the fraudster and the elusive and mysterious, the clash of wits and trickery, was now truly reaching its climax.The room fell silent again, with only the occasional crackling of the candlelight casting Zhang Daoyi's flickering shadow on the wall.
The footsteps outside the door faded away, but he knew he wasn't safe; he had simply been temporarily placed in a more easily monitored location.
House arrest means that it has more time to weave a more deadly trap.
The brooch was framed, the waiter gave false testimony... "Its" actions were efficient and insidious.
Zhang Daoyi leaned against the cold door, his mind racing in the thought process of a fraudster.
Anger and fear are useless luxuries; what he needs now is calm analysis and precise counterattack.
He took out the guest list hidden under the mattress again and, by candlelight, examined Eleanor Grey's information once more.
Widowed, hay fever, personality described as quiet and introverted.
This contrasts sharply with the "Eleanor" who was at the dinner party, chatting and laughing as if nothing was amiss when she approached the flowerbed.
Hypothesis 1: The roster information is accurate, and the current "Eleanor" is a mysterious imposter.
So, where is the real Eleanor? Was she murdered? Or imprisoned? Finding the real Eleanor might just tear away "its" disguise.
Hypothesis 2: The roster information is incorrect or has been tampered with. This possibility is low; Sebastian, the butler, seems meticulous and old-fashioned, and the chances of such an important item as a roster being wrong are slim.
Furthermore, since "it" can perfectly mimic humans, modifying the register wouldn't be difficult. But if "it" tampered with it, why leave such an obvious flaw as "hay fever"? Was it an oversight, or... a deliberate decoy?
He turned to the register, to the section on servants. The servant who had identified him was named "Thomas," his record simple, his background unblemished. But the slight bend in his little finger, so similar to "Eleanor's," was no coincidence.
"Master of Disguise"... Zhang Daoyi pondered his own abilities. If "it" also possessed similar abilities, or was itself a higher-level Master of Imitation, then controlling a waiter, or briefly disguising itself as a waiter for identification, would be entirely possible.
He was under house arrest, and his movements were restricted. Going out to investigate directly was extremely risky; if he were discovered, his guilty conscience would be confirmed, and even Sebastian wouldn't be able to protect him.
His weapons are: one opportunity to [Shift Crisis], two uses of [Master of Disguise], and the passive effect of [Eloquent Tongue]. He also has the roster that might hold clues, and suspicions about "Eleanor" and the waiter "Thomas".
Forcing his way in is not an option, and sitting idly by and waiting for death is a dead end. He must proactively create an opportunity to lure the enemy out, or find decisive evidence.
A plan gradually took shape in his mind, bold and adventurous, full of the style of a con artist.
He needs to create a bait that "it" cannot ignore, an opportunity that makes "it" feel it must take action itself, or that will expose more clues.
Time passed second by second, and the manor seemed to fall into a deep sleep, but Zhang Daoyi knew that the hunter in the darkness never rested.
Around three in the morning, a time when people are most drowsy. Zhang Daoyi quietly walked to the door and listened intently. The corridor was deathly silent. He took a deep breath and activated [Master of Disguise] for the first time.
His goal was to imitate Sebastian's deep, authoritative, and slightly hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and, speaking into the crack in the door in a low voice—just enough for any guards outside to hear—it was as if he were talking to himself, or perhaps reporting through some kind of communication device:
"...Yes, something has been discovered...The record on the roster does not match the person...Ms. Eleanor Grey...requires further verification...Perhaps it is related to 'those events' from before..."
His words were vague, but he mentioned the key name "Eleanor Grey" and the suggestive "those events." He was betting that "it" was either watching him or somehow aware of what was happening here. If "Eleanor" was indeed "it" in disguise, then hearing the butler (even if it was an imposter) begin to suspect and investigate would inevitably alert "it" and prompt it to take action.
After saying these words, he immediately stopped and held his breath.
There was no movement outside the door.
The five-minute effect of "Master of Disguise" quickly wore off. Zhang Daoyi couldn't be sure if it had been successful. He retreated to the center of the room, waiting patiently, like a lurking hunter.
The wait was agonizing. Every second seemed to stretch on endlessly. The candlelight flickered, the shadows loomed, as if they might transform into a monster at any moment.
Nearly an hour later, just as Zhang Daoyi began to doubt whether his plan had failed—
"Thump...thump..."
An extremely faint, almost imperceptible knock.
It wasn't the rough pounding of Sir Humphrey, nor the steady tapping of Sebastian. The sound carried a cautious, tentative quality.
Zhang Daoyi's heart tightened slightly. He walked to the door but didn't open it immediately. He lowered his voice and asked, "Who is it?"
There was a moment of silence outside the door, then a deliberately lowered, feminine voice rang out, trembling slightly: "Mr. Dao Yi? It's me... Eleanor Grey. I... I have something I want to tell you privately, about... about tonight's chaos."
It's here!
Zhang Daoyi's internal alarm bells rang, but he remained calm: "Ms. Gray? It's so late, can't we talk about this tomorrow? Besides, I'm not really available right now..."
"No! It has to be now!" The voice outside the door was urgent. "I've discovered something… something terrible. About that waiter who identified you, Thomas! I might know who he is in disguise! This concerns the safety of all of us!"
The bait worked! Sure enough, "it" couldn't sit still any longer and took matters into its own hands, trying to use his previous suspicions (the waiter Thomas) to gain his trust, and perhaps even trying to lure him out of the room and into another trap.
Zhang Daoyi's mind raced. Opening the door carried unknown risks, potentially leading to a confrontation with something sinister. Staying closed might alert the enemy and cause him to miss an opportunity to obtain crucial information.
He decided to take the risk.
"Please wait a moment, Ms. Gray," he said, discreetly concealing a sturdy, decorative silver letter opener in his sleeve, just in case. Then, he gently unlocked the door.
The door was pushed open a crack.
Standing outside the door was none other than Eleanor Grey, the woman from the banquet, dressed in a dark blue gown and seemingly aloof. Her face appeared somewhat pale in the dim light of the corridor lamps, and her eyes held a mixture of tension and an indescribable depth.
She didn't come in immediately, but quickly looked left and right in the corridor before slipping inside and gently closing the door behind her.
"Mr. Dao Yi," she turned to face Zhang Dao Yi, speaking quickly, "I know you've been wronged. I saw it. It was Thomas—no, it was that 'thing' disguised as Thomas—who put the brooch in your pocket!"
Zhang Daoyi subtly took a half-step back, maintaining a safe distance from her. His silver tongue allowed him to maintain a facade of composure: "You saw it? Why didn't you stand up and testify then?"
"I was terrified! And there was no evidence!" Eleanor explained urgently, her expression incredibly genuine, filled with lingering fear. "But I remember what it looked like! Even though it had transformed into Thomas, its right little finger had an unnatural bend! Just like… just like when it disguised itself as someone else!"
She pinpointed that crucial detail precisely! This seemed to increase the credibility of her statement.
"It can also disguise itself as other people?" Zhang Daoyi asked, following her words, his vigilance undiminished.
"Yes! I suspect… I suspect it has replaced several of us!" Eleanor's voice trembled with fear. "We must join forces! I know a place that might hold the secrets it can disguise, or… the whereabouts of the real 'Thomas'!"
She threw out an even bigger bait.
Looking into her eyes, which seemed exceptionally deep in the candlelight, Zhang Daoyi's intuition as a con artist was screaming a warning. This woman, or rather this "being," was performing flawlessly, her emotions overflowing, her logic seemingly self-consistent. But she was too "perfect," as perfect as a meticulously crafted script.
He needs verification.
"Where?" he asked.
"At the end of the family gallery, there's a hidden specimen room," Eleanor said in a low voice. "It holds some… unusual things collected by the Howard family over the generations. I've stumbled upon the entrance. I suspect that the source of 'it's' power, or the 'shell' it uses to disguise itself, is there!"
The specimen display room... the skin... this information sounds both terrifying and reasonable.
"Shall we go now?" Zhang Daoyi asked.
"Now! Before Sebastian and the others can react!" A desperate glint flashed in Eleanor's eyes. "I know a servant's passage that can be used to avoid being seen."
Zhang Daoyi fell silent. He looked at the woman in front of him, his mind racing as he weighed his options.
Going with her would most likely mean stepping into a meticulously laid death trap. Not going might mean missing the only opportunity, and it would also make "it" realize that he hadn't been fooled, leading to even more severe and devastating consequences.
Moreover, he noticed a detail: the "Eleanor" in front of him showed no signs of hay fever, her breathing was steady, and she didn't even react when she got close to the small, slightly fragrant night-blooming jasmine in the room.
The record in the register became a silent, sharp accusation at this moment.
He made a decision.
"Alright, let's go." Zhang Daoyi's face showed an expression that seemed to indicate he had made up his mind and was willing to take a gamble. "But for safety's sake, we'll split up. You tell me the specific route, and I'll catch up later. If we're discovered, we won't all be caught in one fell swoop."
This was a spur-of-the-moment test. If "Eleanor" insisted on going with him, the suspicion would be even greater.
Eleanor paused, a fleeting, almost imperceptible glint of darkness in her eyes, but then nodded. "You're right. The route is…" She quickly and clearly described a winding servants' passageway leading to the family gallery.
"I understand." Zhang Daoyi nodded. "Please go first. I'll leave as soon as I've confirmed it's safe outside. We'll meet at the entrance of the specimen display room."
Eleanor gave him a deep look, her gaze complex and unfathomable, then said nothing more, quietly opened the door, and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor like a ghost.
The door closed again.
Zhang Daoyi did not act immediately. He leaned against the door, his heart pounding.
He was almost certain that this "Eleanor" was the very essence of the eerie world! It had personally intervened, attempting to lead him into a pre-set trap. That specimen display room was likely not the place to uncover its secrets, but rather its prepared burial ground!
So, where is the real Eleanor?
Was the waiter Thomas really in disguise?
Now, should he follow the path given by "Eleanor" and walk into the trap, or should he find another way?
His gaze fell once more on the guest list. A previously overlooked thought suddenly flashed through his mind—if "it" could impersonate Eleanor, could it also impersonate... someone listed but not yet confirmed to be present tonight?
He quickly flipped through the roster, his eyes scanning the names and brief descriptions.
Suddenly, his finger stopped on a name: "Victor Howard," a member of a collateral branch of the Howard family, with the note: chronically ill and reclusive.
During the dinner, he didn't even notice this person's presence!
Is it easier for a person who is bedridden for a long time to be "replaced" without attracting attention? Is this Victor the original identity that "it" was disguised, and Eleanor just another "mask" it used to facilitate its actions?
This conjecture sent a chill down Zhang Daoyi's spine. If "it" possessed multiple disguised identities, then the complexity and danger of the game would far exceed his imagination!
He had to act immediately. The target wasn't the specimen room, but—Victor Howard's bedroom!
He needs to find evidence to prove that this Victor doesn't exist at all, or that he has already been murdered!
This will be the most powerful blow to tear apart "its" disguise!
Taking a deep breath, Zhang Daoyi gently opened the door, stepping into the perilous manor corridor like a con artist blending into the shadows. His direction was completely opposite to that of "Eleanor."The corridor was as silent as a tomb, with only the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Like a true ghost, Zhang Daoyi used the natural alertness of a fraudster to his environment and the extreme control over his own aura and footsteps brought about by his silver tongue to move through the dim light.
He did not choose the servant's path offered by Eleanor, which was undoubtedly a shortcut to the slaughterhouse.
His target was that overlooked name on the roster—Victor Howard.
The manor's internal structure was complex, with winding corridors and numerous rooms. Fortunately, as the "butler," he had a rough map of the manor's layout in his mind and knew that the main bedrooms of the family members were located on the second floor of the east wing.
He avoided the main staircase, where guards or servants might pass, and found a secluded, winding, narrow staircase.
The smell of dust was even stronger, indicating that few people came here.
Each step was taken with extreme caution; even the slightest groan from the wooden stairs could sound like thunder in the silence.
Upon reaching the second floor, the corridor became more spacious, the carpet thicker, and the portraits hanging on the walls displayed even more somber eyes, as if silently watching this uninvited guest.
He found the room marked "Victor Howard" based on the room allocation diagram on the roster.
The door was tightly shut, made of heavy, dark wood, with a cold brass doorknob. He pressed his ear against the door to listen—utter silence.
There was no breathing, no turning over, not even the breath a living creature should have.
He tentatively and extremely slowly turned the doorknob.
"Click".
The door was unlocked.
A pungent smell, a mixture of herbs, dust, and some indescribable odor reminiscent of old bandages and a faint putrid odor, wafted from under the door. The smell made him frown.
He slipped inside, quickly closed the door behind him, and didn't make much of a noise.
The room was dark, with only the cold moonlight filtering through the gaps in the heavy velvet curtains, casting pale beams of light.
With the help of this dim light, he could see the layout of the room.
This place looks more like a long-abandoned storage room than a bedroom.
The furniture was covered with white dust-proof cloths, and fine dust particles floated in the air.
However, in stark contrast to the sense of abandonment, a luxurious four-poster bed stood in the center of the room, its curtains hanging low. On a small table beside the bed were several empty medicine bottles and a water glass.
Most notably, in the corner near the fireplace, there was a wheelchair, and on it... there seemed to be a figure sitting!
Zhang Daoyi felt a chill run down his spine, held his breath, and silently approached.
There was indeed an elderly man in a bathrobe in the wheelchair, his hair gray, his head bowed, motionless. But as you got closer, the stench of decay became even more pronounced.
Moreover, the fraudster's intuition gave him a strong sense of "incongruity".
He reached out, and the moment his fingertips touched the old man's shoulder skin, he felt a stiff, cold, and inelastic sensation.
This is not a living person!
He abruptly lifted the old man's drooping head—
Under the moonlight, it was the face of an exquisitely crafted wax figure, yet at this moment it looked incredibly horrifying! The skin texture, age spots, and even the wrinkles at the corners of the eyes were lifelike, but the eyes made of glass beads were empty and lifeless, and the corners of the mouth had a stiff curve, as if frozen in some painful moment.
A wax figure! Victor Howard is long dead, or he never existed! There's only a wax figure here as a disguise!
What is the point of "it" disguising itself as Victor? Is it merely to occupy a place on the roster for easier concealment?
His gaze swept rapidly across the room. His ability to detect clues led him to notice faint drag marks on the carpet beneath the wheelchair, pointing towards the fireplace.
A fireplace? No fire has been lit this season.
He walked to the fireplace, which was filled with ashes. But upon closer inspection, something seemed to reflect a faint light at the edge of the ashes. He carefully brushed aside the surface layer of ashes, and his fingertips touched a cold, hard object.
It's a small, silver cigarette case for women. It's engraved with interlaced letters: "EG".
Eleanor Gray!
The real Eleanor's items! Why are they here? In "Victor Howard's" room?
A chilling hypothesis surfaced in Zhang Daoyi's mind: the real Eleanor Grey might have been murdered, and her belongings had been brought here by "it," perhaps to make the imitation more convincing, or perhaps... for other purposes. This room was not only a stage for disguise, but also possibly a place for processing "traces"!
He must leave immediately! It's too dangerous here! "It" could return at any moment!
However, just as he was about to turn around—
"Squeak—"
The room door was slowly pushed open.
The moonlight stretched the man's shadow long across the floor. It wasn't "Eleanor," but the waiter who had identified him—Thomas!
But at this moment, Thomas showed no fear or panic on his face, only a cold, inhuman indifference. His eyes were vacant, his right little finger was unnaturally bent, and a stiff, eerie smile stretched across his lips.
"Mr. Butler," Thomas's voice was dry, like sandpaper being rubbed, "you shouldn't be here. The master doesn't like people barging into his room."
Zhang Daoyi's muscles tensed instantly, and the letter opener slid from his sleeve into his palm. He knew this wasn't Thomas, it was "it"! It had indeed sensed his actions and had personally chased after him, in Thomas's form!
"Thomas?" Zhang Daoyi tried to reason with him, his [Eloquent Tongue] passively activated, his tone carrying just the right amount of doubt and a hint of authority, "What are you doing here? And what's going on in this room?" He pointed to the wax figure in the wheelchair.
Thomas tilted his head, his smile becoming even more sinister: "The master has been recuperating here. As for me... I'm here to clean up the uninvited... dust."
Before the words were even finished, Thomas moved like a ghost! His speed far exceeded that of ordinary people, and his thin hand grabbed Zhang Daoyi's throat, bringing with it a chilling gust of wind!
Physical attack! Although "it" cannot directly use supernatural powers to kill, it can carry out "reasonable" physical elimination by using a disguised identity, which is obviously within the rules!
Zhang Daoyi was prepared and narrowly dodged to the side, then slashed the other person's arm with the letter opener in his hand!
"Sizzle—" The blade tore through the sleeve of the waiter's uniform, but the sensation made Zhang Daoyi's heart sink—it didn't feel like it was cutting through flesh, but rather like it was cutting through tough leather or rubber!
Ignoring the "wound" on his arm, Thomas delivered another swift and powerful elbow strike! The force was astonishing!
Despite using his enhanced physical abilities to block the attack, Zhang Daoyi was still shaken so badly that his arm went numb. He staggered backward, knocking over a small table covered with a white cloth. Medicine bottles and water glasses shattered on the ground with a jarring sound.
We can't fight them head-on! Their strength and defense are extraordinary!
He used the furniture in the room as cover, constantly dodging and weaving. His mind raced, searching for a solution.
[Crisis Transfer]must be used at critical moments; [Master of Disguise]seems to have little effect on this completely manipulated "puppet".
We must create chaos! Draw others in!
He seized an opportunity and suddenly smashed a high stool covered with a white cloth against the window!
"Clang—!!!" The heavy glass shattered with a loud crash, and the sound was loud enough to echo throughout half the manor in the quiet night!
Thomas paused for a moment, a hint of anthropomorphic annoyance flashing in his empty eyes.
"You're asking for death!" it growled, its attack becoming even more ferocious.
Zhang Daoyi dodged awkwardly, several bloody scratches already appearing on his arms and shoulders. He fought and retreated, moving towards the door.
Just then, hurried footsteps and shouts came from the corridor!
"What was that sound?!"
"It came from Mr. Victor's room!"
"Quick! Go check it out!"
It was Sebastian, the butler, and the other alarmed guests!
Seeing this, Thomas's eyes flashed with ferocity; he knew he had to finish the fight quickly. He lunged forward, his hands like iron pincers grabbing at Zhang Daoyi's neck!
At the critical moment, Zhang Daoyi no longer hesitated and activated [Crisis Transfer]!
He focused his attention on the onrushing "Thomas," attempting to use the power of the rules to forcibly distort and amplify the crime and suspicion of "attacking the butler," transferring it onto "Thomas"!
"Catch him! He's the murderer! He attacked me and tried to destroy the evidence!" Zhang Daoyi shouted at the same time, his silver tongue giving his accusations an undeniable urgency and realism!
The crisis transfer strategy has taken effect!
Thomas, who was halfway through his lunge, suddenly froze, his movements becoming extremely uncoordinated for a brief moment.
Meanwhile, the first thing that Sebastian, Sir Humphrey and the others who rushed into the room saw was that "Thomas" was viciously pouncing on the disheveled and injured Zhang Daoyi!
"Stop!" Sebastian, the butler, shouted, and several strong male guests immediately stepped forward to try to subdue "Thomas".
Thomas let out a defiant roar and struggled fiercely. Its strength was extraordinary, and it instantly shook off the two of them!
"Look into his eyes! He's not Thomas!" Zhang Daoyi immediately pointed out the key point, and quickly added, "Mr. Victor is a wax figure! The real Mr. Victor may have been murdered long ago! This waiter is an imposter!"
These words were like a bombshell, stunning everyone who rushed in. Their gazes fell with suspicion on the frantically struggling "Thomas," whose eyes were empty and eerie, before turning to the wax figure in the wheelchair, which looked even more terrifying in the moonlight.
"Stop him! Gag him!" Sebastian decided immediately.
Taking advantage of the moment when everyone's attention was drawn to "Thomas," Zhang Daoyi's gaze quickly swept across the room, finally settling on the small table he had knocked over—there, besides the broken medicine bottle, was a small, folded piece of paper of a special material that had fallen out of the wax figure's bathrobe pocket.
He quickly picked it up amidst the chaos and stuffed it into his uniform pocket.
At this moment, Thomas was finally subdued by several people and tied up with ropes, but he still stared at Zhang Daoyi with his inhuman eyes, a strange smile on his lips, as if to say, "The game is not over yet."
Sebastian's expression was extremely grave. He looked at the wax figure, then at the subdued "Thomas," and finally at Zhang Daoyi: "Mr. Daoyi, you need to explain all of this. And what about your injuries..."
Zhang Daoyi took a deep breath, calming his racing heart and heavy breathing. He knew the most dangerous moment had temporarily passed, but an even greater storm was brewing. He had obtained crucial evidence (the cigarette box, the paper), and had successfully forced one of "its" disguised identities into the open.
But where is "it" itself, that eerie creature disguised as "Eleanor"? Is it hiding among the terrified crowd, coldly preparing for its next attack?
The 24-hour survival game is far from over. He has only just uncovered one corner of the conspiracy, and what lies hidden behind it is an even deeper darkness.
"Mr. Sebastian," Zhang Daoyi wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes sharp, "I think we need a…open and frank conversation now. About this manor, about the Howard family, and about… that 'it' among us."The room was filled with the mess left by the fight, the eeriness of the wax figures, and the inhuman chill that "Thomas" still exuded even after he was subdued.
The guests who rushed in had faces full of fear, doubt and confusion, their eyes darting between Zhang Daoyi, Sebastian, the bound "Thomas" and the wax figure in the wheelchair.
Zhang Daoyi's words were like cold water thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the oppressive atmosphere.
"Open and frank? What does that mean?"
"What's going on? Mr. Victor is... a wax figure?"
"That waiter... he didn't look human at all just now!"
"Could the rumors be true? Is this manor cursed?"
Sebastian, the butler, was ashen-faced. He waved for everyone to be quiet, his deep gaze first landing on Zhang Daoyi: "Mr. Daoyi, your accusations are very serious. You claim that Thomas is an imposter and imply that Mr. Victor has already been murdered. What's the evidence? Besides this… wax figure." He pointed to the wheelchair, his voice trembling slightly, as if he too was shocked by the sight before him.
Zhang Daoyi took a deep breath, knowing this was a crucial moment. His passive ability, "Eloquent Tongue," allowed him to speak calmly and logically: "There are three pieces of evidence."
"First, this Thomas. He pointed to the bound waiter who was still struggling and growling. His strength and speed far exceeded those of ordinary people, his skin had an abnormal feel, and he showed no reaction to scratches. This is definitely not a normal human being. More importantly, I previously observed that the one disguised as Eleanor Grey had a special habit with her right pinky finger, and this Thomas, when pointing at me, showed the exact same subtle movement! This is no coincidence, indicating that they are controlled by the same source, or are simply different disguises of the same being!"
A stir ran through the crowd as they looked at the bound Thomas with suspicion, noticing his unnaturally bent little finger.
"Secondly, regarding Mr. Victor Howard." Zhang Daoyi walked to the wheelchair and pointed unabashedly at the wax figure.
"This wax figure is exquisitely crafted, enough to fool people from a distance, but up close it is lifeless and cold and stiff to the touch. How can an old man who needs to be bedridden for a long time be a wax figure? Where is the real Mr. Victor? I suspect that he has already met with misfortune, and this wax figure is just a decoy used by 'it' to maintain the identity of 'Victor' and make it easier for 'it' to move in the shadows."
He paused, then took out the silver cigarette case found in the ashes: "Third, this cigarette case, engraved with 'EG,' belongs to the real Eleanor Grey. But it appeared in the fireplace of this so-called 'Victor's' room. What does this imply? The real Eleanor may have also met with misfortune, and her belongings were brought here by 'it' to dispose of them! 'It' not only impersonated Victor, but also Eleanor! And perhaps... not just them!"
These words were logically clear and interconnected, stringing together scattered clues into a chilling conclusion. The guests turned pale, eyeing each other warily, as if every familiar face around them might be a monster in disguise.
"Absurd!" a shrill voice rang out. It was "Eleanor Grey," the woman in the dark blue dress! She had appeared at the doorway sometime earlier, her face contorted with anger and terror at being falsely accused. "Mr. Dao Yi, to escape punishment, you've fabricated such a horrifying lie! You say I'm an imposter? Where's the evidence? Just a cigarette case that appeared out of nowhere? Maybe you stole it yourself and framed me!"
Her performance was still perfect, full of emotion, instantly drawing some of the doubting eyes back to Zhang Daoyi.
Zhang Daoyi looked at her calmly, a cold smile playing on his lips. He knew the final showdown had arrived.
"Evidence?" Zhang Daoyi's lips curled into a mocking smile, the kind of smile a con artist would give. "Ms. Gray, or rather… 'it'. Your performance was brilliant, but you overlooked the most fundamental issue—'hay fever'."
Eleanor Grey's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.
Zhang Daoyi picked up the leather register, flipped to the corresponding page, and read aloud, "The register clearly states: Eleanor Grey, widowed, suffers from severe hay fever." He looked up, his gaze fixed intently on "Eleanor," and continued, "And tonight, the flowerbed in the center of the hall was filled with lilies, pollen everywhere. Yet you approached to admire them several times without any discomfort. Tell me, how could someone with severe hay fever do that? Unless… you are not Eleanor Grey at all!"
"I...I've been feeling better lately!" Eleanor tried to explain, but her tone already betrayed a hint of panic.
"So well that you can ignore a strong allergen like lilies?" Zhang Daoyi took a step closer, his aura imposing. "Or is it that the 'identity' you're pretending to have inherent flaws in its basic information that you can't perfectly fix?!"
"You're talking nonsense!" Eleanor shrieked, but her eyes began to flicker, and a crack appeared in her perfect mask.
Just then, the bound "Thomas" suddenly let out a distorted, hoarse laugh, no longer Thomas's voice, but a strange sound that mixed multiple tones and was neither male nor female:
"Hehe... Clever butler... But... are you sure... you found 'me'?"
Before the words were even finished, the bound "Thomas" body began to convulse and deform violently, like a melting wax figure. Countless worms seemed to be wriggling under his skin as he rapidly withered and shriveled, eventually turning into a real, dried-up human corpse dressed in a waiter's uniform! And that eerie laughter seemed to still echo in the room!
"Ah—!!!" Several female guests screamed in fright.
A zombie transformation! Or rather, the disguise being removed! This horrifying scene completely confirmed Zhang Daoyi's deduction! Thomas had been dead for a long time; he had only been a shell controlled by "it" all along!
"Mr. Sebastian! Gentlemen!" Zhang Daoyi pressed his advantage, his voice resolute, "The situation is now very clear! A bizarre entity capable of impersonating others and manipulating corpses has infiltrated this manor! It has impersonated Eleanor Grey, and possibly others as well! Its purpose is to create chaos, frame others, and satisfy its twisted desires! We must find it immediately!"
All eyes instantly turned like sharp swords towards "Eleanor," whose face was pale and who was retreating step by step!
"No...it wasn't me...it was him! He's the one who's behind this!" Eleanor pointed at Zhang Daoyi, making a final struggle, but her voice had lost its previous strength, and the panic and a hint of hidden resentment in her eyes could no longer be concealed.
Sebastian, the butler, took a deep breath, a resolute look appearing on his aged face. He stepped forward, blocking "Eleanor's" escape route, and said in a deep voice, "Ms. Grey, or... whatever you are, please drop your disguise. Such filth will not be tolerated on the Howard family estate!"
Eleanor looked at the crowd that had gathered around her, their faces filled with fear and anger, and then at Zhang Daoyi, whose eyes were cold and who seemed to have everything under control. She knew that her game was over.
The fear and panic on her face receded like the tide, replaced by an extreme coldness and emptiness.
Her body began to undergo strange changes; her skin turned grayish-white, her features became blurred and fluid like melting candlelight, and her figure began to twist and elongate slightly...
"Hehe...hehehe..." That eerie laughter, neither male nor female, came out of her (its) throat again, filled with chilling malice.
"Since we've been seen through…" "Eleanor"—or rather, that eerie being—said in a distorted voice, "Then… stay here with us…"
It suddenly spread its arms wide, and an invisible, cold mental shock spread out like ripples! Although it was not a direct physical attack, the mental power filled with despair, madness and the fear it evoked caused the people who were nearby to scream in agony, their minds almost collapsing!
Zhang Daoyi also felt a strong wave of dizziness and nausea, but his enhanced mental strength and unwavering will allowed him to barely hold on.
"Identify it!" Sebastian, the butler, shouted at Zhang Daoyi, barely suppressing his discomfort. "Quickly! Point out its true form! That's the rule!"
Identification is required! Solid evidence and a logical chain of reasoning are needed!
Zhang Daoyi endured the mental pressure, his gaze fixed on the bizarre, twisting and deforming figure. His mind, guided by the "fraudster's" thought process, made its final adjustments. The wax figure of Victor, the manipulated corpse of Thomas, the flaw in the fake Eleanor's hay fever, and the inhuman aura emanating from it… the chain of evidence was complete!
He took a deep breath, and with all his might, his voice resounded clearly throughout the room, even drowning out the eerie laughter and the mental shock:
"I identify! This 'being' before me, twisting and deforming, emitting mental pollution, who once impersonated Eleanor Grey and manipulated Thomas's corpse to frame me, is the one who infiltrated the banquet, created chaos, and attempted to frame the guests—the 'weird'!"
The moment the words fell—
Time seemed to stand still.
The bizarre, twisting movement abruptly stopped.
The spreading psychological impact came to an abrupt halt.
Its blurry "face" seemed to be turned toward Zhang Daoyi, filled with disbelief and extreme resentment.
Then, to everyone's horror, its body, starting from the center, was ignited by an invisible flame, rapidly turning into ashes and gradually dissipating into the air, leaving only a shriek filled with resentment and anger that faded into the distance...The sense of returning to reality is clearer than the previous two times.
The familiar silence of the apartment replaced the eerie clamor of the manor, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting warm dappled patterns on the floor.
A thought struck him, and he brought up his personal interface, which was only visible to him:
[Player: Zhang Daoyi]
[Rank: Bronze I (3 stars/5 stars)]
Points: 510
(Originally 10+ "Bloody Banquet" 500)
[Items: Silent Curse Crystal (Silver), Thousand-Faced Fox's Mask (Gold), Basic Healing Potion x1, Basic Mental Stimulant x1, One-Time Rule Surveyor x1, Weak Luck Amulet (Damaged) x1]
A golden item! The effect of the [Thousand-Faced Fox's Mask] is simply overpowered, a perfect imitation, which could play an unexpected role in future games and even in reality. However, its cooldown time also means it cannot be used lightly.
The joy lasted only a short time before it was replaced by deeper reflection.
The dangers of the SSS-difficulty dungeon were still fresh in his mind; the ability to weave hidden and insidious traps and manipulate people's minds left him with lingering fear. If he hadn't randomly been assigned the "fraudster" identity, which allowed him to outmaneuver the criminals, the outcome would have been unpredictable. Would he be so lucky next time?
He opened the encrypted "Rules of the Lost" forum. Sure enough, as the number of players increased and their experience grew, the forum was no longer limited to survival sharing. Discussion threads about "ability classification" and "item rating" began to appear, and some people even vaguely mentioned the existence of what appeared to be a "player organization," but they were all vague and obviously restricted or out of caution.
Just as he was browsing the information, a message popped up on the internal communication software from his superior, Lao Chen, which was concise and to the point: "Come to the center immediately, there is an important arrangement."
Zhang Daoyi's gaze sharpened slightly. An important arrangement? Mission briefings are usually not this urgent.
He quickly tidied himself up, discarded the butler's uniform that resembled a manor house, changed into casual clothes, and headed to the "Center for Investigation of Abnormal Phenomena and Folk Culture".
The atmosphere in the center seemed even more tense than before. Colleagues hurried about, their voices hushed, and a sense of impending doom hung in the air. He was led directly to a small conference room.
Besides Lao Chen, there was one other person sitting in the conference room.
He was a young man who looked to be around thirty years old. He was wearing an ordinary casual jacket, had a lean build, and sat in a relaxed posture, but his eyes were sharp and bright, as if they could see through appearances.
He kept his aura under control, but Zhang Daoyi's enhanced perception allowed him to vaguely sense a powerful energy fluctuation within the other person's body, far exceeding that of anyone he had ever seen before, including the staff members in the center who were suspected of being players.
"This is Qin Yue," Old Chen introduced, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible respect. "He's an 'instructor' sent from above. Starting today, he will be in charge of providing basic training to the confirmed 'Bronze Level' personnel within the center."
Qin Yue nodded to Zhang Daoyi as a greeting, his face expressionless, and cut straight to the point: "Time is of the essence, so let's cut to the chase. My name is Qin Yue, and I'm a Silver-ranked player. You can call me Instructor Qin, or just by my name. My mission is to teach you newbies how to survive as long as possible in the Bronze and Silver ranks of the game."
Silver rank! Zhang Daoyi's heart skipped a beat. This was the first player he had encountered in real life who was clearly a higher rank than himself.
"First of all, let's make one thing clear," Qin Yue's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority, "This is a game of rules, not a dinner party. The mortality rate, especially in lower ranks, is higher than you can imagine. Official statistics show that the survival rate of new players in the Bronze stage after the first three games is less than 40%."
The cold, hard numbers instantly froze the atmosphere in the conference room. Even though Zhang Daoyi was mentally prepared, he couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart.
"The fact that you're sitting here means you've passed at least one game, making you 'qualified' after the initial screening." Qin Yue's gaze swept over the five or six "students" present, including Zhang Daoyi. "But don't be too happy yet. The difficulty of the following games will gradually increase, and there will be multiplayer dungeons."
He paused, then continued, "Multiplayer dungeons mean that you not only have to deal with the rules and strangeness of the game itself, but also have to be wary of... other players. For points, items, or simply out of suspicion and self-preservation, infighting and betrayal among players are commonplace."
These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over their heads, turning the trainees pale. Solo dungeons were already a near-certain death situation; now they had to be wary of their own kind?
"The training content mainly includes three parts," Qin Yue said, holding up three fingers.
"First, analysis of common rule traps and coping strategies. Second, basic survival skills and methods for utilizing mental strength (not abilities, just techniques). Third, and most importantly—"
He raised his voice, his gaze sharpening as he looked at each person: "—This is to let you understand, and also to let you know that the rules are not absolutely fair."
He took out a simple, palm-sized bronze balance scale model and placed it on the table. The scale looked ordinary, even somewhat old, but Zhang Daoyi could sense a strange and powerful force of rules emanating from it.
"This is the [Balance of Cost]," Qin Yue's voice carried a hint of solemnity, "a unique rule item obtained by the official team after clearing an extremely difficult SSS-level dungeon. Currently, only officially certified and bound personnel can use it to submit applications to the 'game platform'."
He slowly explained, "The effect of the [Balance of Cost] is simple, yet incredibly cruel. It allows players to pay a 'cost' after the game ends but before returning to base, in exchange for two possible outcomes:
Heal: At the cost of points or stars, fully restore all injuries sustained in the game (including rule-based damage and mental pollution).
Immunity from death: Pay a huge amount of points or lose a rank (at least an entire major rank) to avoid death penalty in the game once (the more times, the greater the cost).
At the same time, you must understand that a game with rules where even life can be at a price is inherently subject to vested interests and the possibility of unfairness.
The conference room was deathly silent, save for the sound of heavy breathing.
Cured! Saved from death!
Compared to life, these costs undoubtedly give you an extra choice, an extra chance to survive, in a game where there is only death and completion.
"Remember," Qin Yue's voice was icy, "the [Balance of Cost] is a last resort, a glimmer of hope in despair, but it is by no means a means for you to act recklessly. Its use is subject to harsh conditions and comes at a heavy price. The reason the authorities have opened it up to you to a limited extent is to increase the survival rate of excellent players and preserve more 'seeds' for the country, not to cultivate a group of useless people who depend on external things."
He surveyed the crowd, his eyes sharp as knives: "During the training, I will teach you how to assess the situation, when to consider using 'heal,' and... under what circumstances you would rather choose death than easily use the 'immunity' option. Because the price you pay might make you wish you were dead."
(Note: In some special dungeons, even after using an invincibility item, you still cannot leave the dungeon!!!)
Over the next few hours, Qin Yue began intensive training.
He didn't teach any fancy techniques, only practical survival tips: how to quickly identify rule types (i.e., dead rules, conditional trigger rules, contamination rules, etc.), how to establish temporary trust and defense in multiplayer dungeons, how to use the environment and limited items to maneuver, and some simple but effective methods for concentrating mental energy and resisting contamination.
Zhang Daoyi listened intently, and drawing on his experiences with "Midnight Taxi" and "Bloody Banquet," many previously vague insights became clear. He realized that the official team was indeed making every effort to integrate resources and systematically improve players' survivability.
During a training break, Zhang Daoyi tried to communicate with Qin Yue.
"Instructor Qin, what changes will occur in the game after reaching the Silver rank?"
Qin Yue glanced at him and said calmly, "You'll have higher privileges, access to more items in the shop, more complex dungeon types, and... you'll start to come into contact with real 'player organizations.' But that's too early for you. Focus on how to get from Bronze to Silver first."
"Player organizations..."
"It's a mixed bag," Qin Yue said with a hint of warning. "There are those who seek mutual protection, those who pursue power, and those who… believe in the survival of the fittest, and even cooperate with the 'weird.' Don't make contact with them lightly before you have enough strength."
After the training, Zhang Daoyi returned to his workstation, his mind still unsettled.
The emergence of the "Balance of Costs" is a double-edged sword. It provides a valuable margin for error, but it also reveals a deeper cruelty in the game—even death can be "traded." Just how cold-blooded are the rules of this cosmic arena?
The official team is accelerating its efforts, training bronze-level players, and providing them with strategic items like the "Balance of Cost"... All of this indicates that the impact of the rules of the game on reality is intensifying, and the official team anticipates an even bigger storm.
He glanced at the 510 points and a few items on his personal interface.
The points seem plentiful, but with the "heal" option on the [Balance of Costs], a single serious injury could deplete most of them. He must be more careful with his resources and improve himself more quickly.
The next game is uncertain. It might be a forced cycle, or it might be triggered randomly.
He needs to digest the content of this training as soon as possible, combine the experience taught by Qin Yue with his own "entry identity" abilities, and form his own way of survival and breaking through the predicament.
He opened the document and began organizing his notes, his gaze calm and resolute.
The temporary peace in reality is a prelude to accumulating strength to prepare for the next inevitable, perhaps even more violent, storm of change. He has already taken the lead over many others and is determined to go even further.