VAP - Chapter 181
Chapter 181: The Ruler in the Endless Deep Darkness (14)
Leaving the disciplinary room, none of the players looked particularly happy.
Instances related to the God of All Undead invariably featured ghosts and spirits. Thinking back on how the academy’s teachers and students had appeared and vanished so bizarrely… had they been attending class with ghosts all day?
With the situation still unclear, the group didn’t dare to split up and began to explore the academy together.
The academy didn’t have many students, but the grounds were quite large. Aside from a cafeteria, two academic buildings, and three dormitories, there were several two-story, antique-style buildings with flying eaves and unknown purposes. The entire campus was like a large garden, with blood-red pavilions half-hidden among the lush trees. However, it lacked the streams, ponds, and waterfalls typically found in such garden architecture.
With no time to carefully examine the layout, the players hurried through the garden to the edge of the academy.
A red brick wall, at least three times a person’s height, enclosed the academy like a prison. Strangely, after walking a full circle along the base of the wall, the players couldn’t find a single gate—only dark red bricks, fitted together seamlessly.
“Is it possible there are no gates here at all?”
“It’s probably part of the instance’s design, to keep players from escaping.”
An agile player climbed a nearby tree, hoping to see what was beyond the wall, but his expression changed as he reached a certain height, and he quickly returned.
“It’s all red fog outside. I can’t see a thing.” He paused, still shaken. “The color of that fog… it’s like blood.”
It seemed players were not allowed to leave the academy grounds.
They exchanged glances, their expressions varied. One girl was on the verge of tears. “So we really are in a paranormal instance, right? The kind with ghosts?”
Yue Du… Yue Du wanted to cry, too.
There weren’t many things she was afraid of, but ghost stories and the supernatural were definitely on the list.
Back when she was an agent’s assistant, Yue Du had once watched an artist film a horror movie. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it; it was even a little amusing to see a group of actors performing opposite thin air. But when she saw the finished film, she was so terrified her face went pale and she broke out in a cold sweat. Even in a crowd, she felt like something was lurking in her blind spots, watching her.
When the artist noticed, he laughed at her, saying she looked so composed, yet she was scared of a domestic horror film. If she saw a movie with real ghosts, would she be too scared to sleep at night?
In fact, Yue Du really hadn’t slept that night.
From then on, Yue Du had the self-awareness to stay far away from horror movies and ghost stories. Now, she was much better at hiding her emotions than the young woman just starting out in society, but her fear of ghosts was as strong as ever.
The other players saw Yue Du’s unfazed expression and assumed she was a seasoned expert. No one knew that her heart skipped a beat at the slightest rustle of wind in the grass.
Fortunately, Ah Jiu was holding her hand the entire time.
Seeing that it was getting dark, the young man with the small braid looked at the sky and said, “Let’s head back to the dorms first.”
Another player hesitated. “Go back this early?”
“It’ll be too late if we wait until it’s completely dark. Of course, if you’re confident you can make it back before then, you can go off on your own.”
That player glanced in the direction of the academic building, hesitated for a long moment, and finally said, “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” With that, he and his teammate broke away from the main group.
“They’re probably taking the chance to scout out the Disciplinary Room,” Yue Du said calmly.
Song Zhan’s eyes lit up. “The Disciplinary Room… I want to check it out, too. How about…”
Unsurprisingly, Tang Ying slapped him upside the head again. “Have you forgotten the number one rule of horror movies? Splitting up from the main group never ends well. If you want to look, we’ll look tomorrow.”
“But sis, I’m afraid I won’t be able to memorize it.”
“You’re overthinking it. With me watching, you think you won’t memorize it?” Tang Ying had been about to say, if you can’t memorize it, you don’t sleep tonight, but then she remembered this was a semi-paranormal instance and that men and women didn’t share rooms, so she couldn’t supervise him. She paused and changed her tune. “You have to memorize it even if you can’t. Believe it or not, if you get sent to the Disciplinary Room, I’ll go with you.”
The siblings’ bickering lightened the atmosphere among the players somewhat, and they headed toward the dormitories.
Behind them, a black butterfly fluttered slowly by. Sitting in her office, Xuan Jiu withdrew her gaze from the window, took a light sip of tea, and a faint smile touched her lips.
The group made it back to the dorms just before dark.
The building was just as empty as before. Across the three dormitories, only the few rooms occupied by the players glowed with an orange-red light. The long, narrow corridors untouched by the light were dark, silent, and empty, an unsettling sight.
The four roommates continued to search their room, trying to find even the smallest clue about their current situation, but they were unsuccessful. They washed up one by one, then some chatted while others stared into space, and soon it was ten o’clock.
“Everyone, let’s get to sleep. It’s hard to say what will happen if we stay up any later,” Tang Ying said, climbing onto the top bunk opposite Yue Du and kicking off her shoes.
The girl on the bunk below her shivered. “In a situation like this… sleep?”
Yue Du also cast a questioning glance her way.
Tang Ying shrugged. “Many paranormal instances are like this. If they give you a bed at night, go to sleep early. It’s best to sleep straight through until morning. If you can’t sleep, you have to pretend you’re asleep.”
That made sense. After all, once the lights were out, the safety of one’s quilt was the ultimate sanctuary, Yue Du thought sarcastically.
A moment later, they were all lying behind their bed curtains. Only a single small lamp was left on in the room, casting a dim, gloomy light.
The academy, inhabited by only ten people, was terrifyingly silent. Yue Du made sure her hands and feet were safely inside the covers, adjusted herself into a proper, face-up sleeping position, and lay perfectly still.
“I want to sleep with you,” Ah Jiu murmured in her consciousness. “Two people would feel safer, right?”
This time, Yue Du’s will to refuse wasn’t as firm as it had been at noon. However, a glance at the narrowness of the bed board made her decide against it.
Ah Jiu: “It’s okay, I’ll watch over you from the top bunk. Do you want to listen to a lullaby?”
Yue Du: “No, thank you.”
With a soft click, the last remaining lamp in the room suddenly went out. Yue Du shivered and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.
Before something terrifying appeared, the lights were bound to go out, and the power was bound to fail. She heard no other sounds for a long time. She wanted to open her eyes, but she was afraid that the moment she did, she would come face-to-face with something in an intimate gaze. The mere thought made it hard to breathe.
“Ah Jiu?”
“I’m here.”
“Actually, could you please play that lullaby? Please,” Yue Du said, her eyes squeezed shut.
Ah Jiu let out a small, muffled laugh. “Alright.”
Then she began to hum, which surprised Yue Du. She had expected the system to play something from a music library.
Ah Jiu’s voice was low, soft, and slow. Her cool tone was incredibly gentle, with a slight huskiness. As she hummed the melody, it felt less like a lullaby and more like something that brought a sense of peace.
Yue Du’s tense body unknowingly relaxed, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep with the humming echoing in her mind.
Pat, scrape.
In the middle of the night, Yue Du was awakened by a faint, unusual noise.
She caught herself before she could move unconsciously. She immediately made her breathing as light and steady as possible, listening intently with her eyes narrowed to slits.
The sound came from the doorway, like something being dragged as it crawled. A smell of something burnt, not strong but definitely not to be ignored, spread through the air.
Yue Du held her breath without realizing it.
The room should have been pitch black, but a flickering, pale red light danced and wavered, illuminating the space. Through the red bed curtain, she could vaguely make out a human-shaped silhouette. The thing was slowly approaching, and the shadow it cast on the curtain grew clearer bit by bit.
Suddenly, the shadow vanished.
Before Yue Du could even breathe a sigh of relief, the thing abruptly appeared beside her bed. It pulled the curtain open a crack, revealing half of a charred, desiccated face. Its sunken, empty eye sockets stared straight at her.
At the same time, a shriveled, burnt hand that looked like bone merely coated in a layer of black charcoal rested on the headboard.
The stench of burnt flesh suddenly intensified, assaulting her nose.
Yue Du: “…”
My heart just stopped! What the hell is this thing?!
Fortunately, she reacted extremely quickly. After a hurried glance, she immediately shut her eyes and feigned sleep, summoning every ounce of her acting ability to keep from trembling.
Just then, Ah Jiu’s voice gently soothed her in her consciousness. “Don’t be afraid. It’s alright. It can’t hurt you.”
Hearing the system’s voice, Yue Du suddenly felt a sense of stability, as if she had found an anchor. Though still terrified, she was no longer in a panic.
For some reason, the thing by her bed didn’t seem to have any intention of attacking. But Yue Du could feel that it never left, just stood there, motionless, staring intently at her.
Or perhaps it was “them.”
The charred hand had come from below, but the thing peering through the curtain clearly couldn’t have done that unless its body was completely deformed.
Recalling the sound that had woken her, Yue Du’s heart tightened. A clear picture had already formed in her mind.
A charred, dried corpse, dragging another one just like it, was wandering the dormitory, occasionally pulling back bed curtains to see if anyone was inside—and if they were, whether they were asleep or awake.
Time ticked by. The feeling of being watched faded, but Yue Du still didn’t dare open her eyes, afraid that the moment she did, she’d be face-to-face with the charred corpse.
After a long while, Ah Jiu said, “They’re gone.”
Yue Du stopped pretending to be asleep. She glanced up and saw that the space beside her bed was empty, and only then did she let out a breath of relief.
“What were those?” she murmured.
Ah Jiu said, “It’s okay now. Sleep. Think about it tomorrow morning.”
After that ordeal, all of Yue Du’s sleepiness had been scared away. When she closed her eyes, a looping video of the charred corpse began to play in her mind, complete with a self-generated horror movie soundtrack that was very effective at setting the mood.
Ah Jiu: “Do you still want to hear the lullaby?”
Yue Du: “Yes.”
Strangely enough, this “lullaby” was incredibly effective. Before her consciousness blurred again, Yue Du had only one thought:
As expected, a product of the system is guaranteed to be of the highest quality.
The next morning, a loud bell ringing throughout the dormitory startled Yue Du awake.
It was seven o’clock sharp. The players got up one by one. They looked up at the light; the one that had mysteriously gone out last night was on again. They looked at their roommates; most had dark circles under their eyes and were yawning constantly, clearly not having slept well.
Afterward, everyone quickly washed up and gathered near the dormitory building.
“That was terrifying! I’m so glad I survived!”
“You guys saw that thing last night, too?”
“Looks like most of the players encountered it. What the hell was that thing? I feel like it stared at me until dawn before it left.”
A knowing look was exchanged among those who had encountered the ghost during the night.
Only the Tang siblings and a man who kept to himself looked confused. Tang Ying approached Yue Du and asked, “What did you guys see?”
“A charred corpse. There might have been two of them. One was standing and one was crawling. They stayed by my bed and watched me for who knows how long.” After her brief summary, Yue Du asked Tang Ying, “You didn’t hear anything?”
This time, it was Song Zhan who answered. He scratched his buzz cut and grinned sheepishly. “We probably slept too soundly. I’m the type who can’t get up without setting seven or eight alarms in the morning.”
Tang Ying nodded, indicating her situation was similar.
So this thing can only attack people who are awake?
The players who were light sleepers and easily woken by noises wore expressions of world-weary resignation.
The two players who had insisted on investigating the Disciplinary Room yesterday had managed to return to their dorm before it got completely dark. According to them, they couldn’t open the door to the Disciplinary Room and had to give up due to the time. The others nodded, but whether they believed them or not was another matter.
In addition, a man and a woman were missing from the gathering point. The players split into two groups to check their respective dorm rooms.
Yue Du pushed open the door to a room in the female dorm.
The resident was the middle-aged woman with permed hair. She hadn’t been assigned to the same room as the other female players and had to spend the night alone. Now, she was a charred corpse, her body dehydrated and blackened, lying twisted within her bed curtains.
The group looked at her tragic state in silence.
Yue Du pulled the quilt over the body, covering it completely, and said in a low voice, “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”
The two groups reconvened. The male player from the other group had met the same fate.
Two more bodies in one night, and their deaths were so horrific. This instance was far more brutal than the last, which meant they had to be even more careful with every step.
Seeing that it was almost time for morning class, the players hurried to the academic building. To be safe, they sat in the same seats assigned to them yesterday.
When the preparatory bell rang at 7:55, the classroom was once again filled with the suddenly appearing students of the academy. They sat in their respective seats, their natural postures much the same as the day before.
The class monitor turned around and glanced at Yue Du. “You two are adapting quite well.”
“Yes, we have, after all, turned over a new leaf and rededicated ourselves to our studies.” Yue Du wore a solemn and dignified expression. “To more profoundly experience the greatness of the Lord of Fire, we will continue to work hard.”
The class monitor was very satisfied. This was probably the first time she had seen new students so cooperative with the brainwashing.
The old teacher in charge of recitation was also very satisfied. After Yue Du finished her performance of the memorized text with “rich emotion and intense feeling,” he remarked with considerable gratification, “Well recited! You have great talent!”
Strangely, he didn’t ask Yue Du to cut her skin and offer blood. Even the strict class monitor said nothing, allowing her to pass unscathed.
Ah Jiu also managed to get by; the old man simply skipped over her and went on to check the other students.
Yue Du, who had been ready to let some blood or use her hemophilia excuse again: “…”
Ah Jiu, who hadn’t planned on reciting the so-called divine hymn but also hadn’t expected to be completely ignored: “…”
After morning class ended, the players gathered. Seeing the bleeding cuts on the backs of the others’ hands, Yue Du and the system exchanged a subtle glance.
It seemed they were the only exceptions. Why?
Yue Du’s first thought was Xuan Jiu—that the Deep Darkness Ruler’s side had interfered.
Miss Xuan had shown an unusual amount of interest in Yue Du. Besides her, there seemed to be no other abnormal factors.
But if she was the one pulling the strings, why didn’t she appear, and what was her purpose?
It couldn’t just be for fun, could it? Yue Du considered it from the perspective of that non-human entity and sadly realized that there seemed to be no other possibility.
This place was an evil god’s playground to begin with. If not for fun, could it possibly be for romance?
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