There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

"Two-person instance, supernatural/horror genre. Recommended Game Level: 15-20.

Note: This instance contains a certain degree of Spiritual Shock.

This instance may contain certain unexpected plot twists.

Instance Objective 1: Go down."

Pushing open the fire escape door, Duan Fei found himself standing in a tube-shaped apartment building.

The building was circular and partitioned by walls, divided into individual homes.

From the outside, every unit looked identical, each consisting of a door and a window, resembling social housing from the last century.

In the center of the ring was a hollow, empty space cordoned off by a railing.

Although it was daytime, the building was abnormally tall. Looking down from here, he couldn’t see the bottom—only a black dot in the distance.

"Don’t tell me they expect us to jump. Jinghong, are you there?"

"I’m here."

Turning his head, Duan Fei saw Jinghong right beside him and couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease.

For some reason, whenever he was with Jinghong, Duan Fei always felt like his own condition improved by twenty percent, and his mind felt especially sharp.

This was probably the ’good buddy’ effect.

Noticing that Jinghong was blushing slightly, Duan Fei patted the back of her hand and said, "Don’t panic. I’m here."

"I’m only panicking because you’re here."

"Why?"

"Don’t ask me why..."

Looking at Jinghong, who seemed both happy and unhappy at the same time, Duan Fei found her truly strange. He then began to consider their next move.

The instance had revealed its objective right from the start, which made the goal considerably clearer.

Go downstairs.

However, ’go downstairs’ was only Objective 1, which meant a second-stage objective would be given after they had descended a certain distance.

This was a supernatural instance, and the warning about a certain degree of shock meant there would likely be a lot of otherworldly things to come. The thought was a little exciting.

Checking his Equipment, Duan Fei found that it was all accessible and his Attributes were fine.

But like a nuclear-powered flashlight in a horror game, this was both a good and a bad thing.

Besides this basic Equipment, he saw that his left hand was bound by a handcuff, the other end of which was attached to Jinghong’s right hand.

He tried staring at the handcuff and found it had already been appraised. An attribute panel quickly materialized.

"Titanium Alloy Handcuff: Uncorrupted, White, Cannot be taken out of the instance.

Description: An extremely sturdy handcuff. Cannot be opened by force, but there is a keyhole. A key must exist somewhere."

The Description was also a hint, indicating that the handcuff could be unlocked and the key was somewhere in here.

Jinghong’s right hand was more important than Duan Fei himself. After all, Jinghong was a formidable fighter, a heavy hitter in this place.

Having her right hand cuffed was equivalent to crippling more than half her combat power.

"So, first step is to find the key? Let’s see if we can open any of the doors around here first. Jinghong, go!"

"...Could you be a little more gentle? Do you think you’re a Pokémon trainer or something?"

"Oh. In that case, Jinghong, if you please."

"...Never mind. I honestly don’t know what kind of blind woman would ever end up with you."

"Don’t worry. If no one will have me, I’ll just grow old alone with you. We can mess around together until we’re eighty."

"No, that’s too old."

Despite bickering with Duan Fei, Jinghong was quick to act.

She kicked a nearby door directly. Duan Fei felt the entire wall tremble, but the door didn’t even budge.

The old wooden door was secured with an old-fashioned padlock, and an upside-down ’Fu’ character was pasted on it.

The spring festival couplets on either side must have been up for a long time. The red pigment had been washed away by water, leaving blood-like streaks on the white walls that looked rather unsettling.

Next to the couplets was the room number: "18-01," indicating this was apartment 1 on the 18th floor.

Just then, Jinghong’s nose twitched slightly. She then asked, "Do you smell something foul?"

"Now that you mention it, I think so."

"It’s the stench of a rotting human body. It’s probably been decaying for about half a year. Judging by the current state, the person must have died during the Lunar New Year."

"Really knows how to pick a day to die."

Duan Fei nodded, accepting Jinghong’s assessment.

Because they were handcuffed, the two couldn’t split up to gather information. They could only walk over to the window together and peer inside.

The lights were off in the room, but there was another window on the far side. Sunlight streamed in, making the scene inside perfectly clear.

The interior wasn’t large, but it was decorated with a distinct character.

The floor was covered in thin, plastic tiles common in the nineties, used to hide the dents in the concrete underneath and make cleaning easier.

On the TV cabinet sat a brand-new, eighteen-inch color television, which was playing a movie.

A family of three was gathered around the dining table, eating. The husband, in a white sweater, was watching the TV intently. Opposite him, a five-year-old child was taking big bites of a chicken leg, while the mother ladled soup for the child.

The scene looked incredibly heartwarming.

But strangely, Duan Fei and Jinghong couldn’t hear a single sound.

Not only that, but although the television was on, the people on the screen weren’t moving, and no sound was coming from it.

The family of three was also frozen in place, as if someone had pressed pause, trapping them in stillness.

After observing quietly for a moment, Duan Fei backed away. The scene inside felt truly bizarre.

"Jinghong, what do you think?"

"I’m so envious..." Jinghong said, dazed.

"Uh, well... my condolences."

Jinghong’s parents had passed away early, and she had been raised by her grandmother since she was a child.

So, while this instance seemed eerie, for Jinghong, it was a scene she deeply envied.

Tugging on Jinghong’s arm, Duan Fei squeezed her hand and said, "Don’t worry, you still have me. Next time my parents are back, we’ll all have a meal together. What do you want to eat?"

"Marinated dishes."

"You’ve got good taste. That’s the only thing I know how to make. You can look forward to a feast."

"Mm."

Clasping Duan Fei’s hand in return, Jinghong felt the melancholy in her heart lessen.

They passed 18-01, and next was 18-02.

Peeking through the window, Duan Fei discovered that the situation inside was identical to 18-01. Even the second hand on the wall clock hadn’t moved.

There were four rooms in total on this floor. After checking each one, Duan Fei found that every room was the same, and every room had the same stench of decay.

After making a full circle of the floor, Duan Fei and Jinghong returned to where they started.

Having found no other useful information, Duan Fei was about to lead Jinghong on another sweep when he noticed a door had appeared in a corner that was previously empty.

They exchanged a glance. Jinghong was the first to act, kicking the door. It swung open with a crash, revealing a staircase behind it.

The stairs only led down. The staircase, equipped with a handrail, formed a sharp dogleg turn, ending up in the exact same spot on the floor below.

With a nod, Jinghong took the lead down the stairs, pulling Duan Fei along until they finally reached the next floor.

The door closed behind them. Just as the two finished glancing around, the door abruptly vanished.

Staring at the spot where the door had disappeared, Duan Fei felt that if he had come alone, he would have been scared to death.

After all, his Spirit Attribute could only beautify ghosts; it couldn’t pretty up a bizarre scene like this.

Lifting his head, he looked at the floor number on a nearby apartment door, and his expression grew grim.

This floor was also the eighteenth floor.

They were trapped on this floor.

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