Chapter 35: Gloomy Phantom City (12)
Chapter 35: Gloomy Phantom City (12)
“Hmm… Based on our experience so far, whenever we ‘discover’ something—a clue, a monster, or an event—it usually triggers…” Feng Bu Jue’s explanation trailed off mid-sentence.
The corpse before them suddenly lurched upright, and a chilling, distorted laughter slithered into the ears of all five companions.
Its head tilted upward slowly, revealing a face shrouded in a sickly, stagnant shadow even under their flashlight beams. Its features were barely discernible, the skin a sickly grayish hue.
“Is it alive?” Long Ao Min whispered.
“Alive?” Feng Bu Jue sidestepped to stand in front of Long Ao Min, advancing toward the reanimated corpse. “That explains the charming laughter earlier—our ‘survivor’ here must be thrilled at being discovered.” His goggles remained fixed, but he knew the monster’s aggro was locked on him.
The creature responded with its second attack pattern.
“Ahhh!” Jimo screamed from behind.
She wasn’t alone—Gu Du yelped too, nearly jumping out of his skin. Wang Tan Zhi choked on a scream, his face draining of color as his heart skipped beats. Only Long Ao Min held his composure, though his hair stood on end as he inhaled sharply.
The pipe walls around them erupted with dozens of gangrenous arms, blackened and dripping. A tidal wave of wails and moans flooded the sewer.
Jimo stumbled backward, swinging her golf club wildly with her eyes shut. Gu Du tried to restrain her, narrowly dodging her frantic strikes.
Wang Tan Zhi stood frozen, eyes wide, his trembling hand slick with sweat around the knife’s hilt.
Seconds later, Long Ao Min barked, “It’s an illusion! Don’t move!” His mind still sharp, he realized the arms were phantoms—their shadows pierced his legs without sensation.
“Even if they’re real, they can’t touch us!” he shouted again.
Jimo’s panic ebbed slightly as Gu Du grabbed her, murmuring reassurances. Though his own spine prickled, seeing her terror steadied him. He repeated mentally: It’s just a game. These horrors are temporary, fake.
Meanwhile, Feng Bu Jue had strolled to the monster’s side, unfazed by the spectral cacophony. Not a blink betrayed his focus. He twirled a baseball bat, rolling his neck like a batter ready to swing.
The monster, realizing intimidation failed, shifted tactics.
The ragged corpse transformed into a raven-haired beauty in her twenties—a black lace dress clinging to her curves, alabaster skin glowing, legs teasingly visible beneath her skirt. Her eyes promised sin.
Feng Bu Jue froze for a heartbeat… then sheathed his bat.
Behind him, the other men exchanged looks of mock disdain—even they understood his hesitation.
“Almost forgot…” He retrieved a pipe wrench from his satchel, grinning. “Against humanoids, this weapon’s special effect grants bonus skill points.” He swung the wrench at the creature’s head.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The wrench shattered bone, black blood spraying. On impact, the monster reverted to its grotesque corpse form, illusions dissolving instantly.
The four spectators watched Feng Bu Jue’s ruthless efficiency in silence. Three of them struggled to stabilize their Terror Values, now wondering if “Mad Bu Jue” hid darker implications.
After reducing the monster’s skull to pulp, Feng Bu Jue fished a Wood Key from its pocket—identical to the Flame Key’s description.
[Current task completed. Main quest updated.]
The task list ticked off the objective, revealing a new one: [Return to Hellgate, Restore the Seal].
“Done. Let’s move,” Feng Bu Jue declared.
“Er… Brother Feng,” Long Ao Min hesitated. “How’d you know this thing was so… fragile?”
“As soon as it stood, I suspected,” Feng Bu Jue replied. “When the arms appeared, I was certain. This monster tests Terror Values. If the party freezes in fear, the illusions escalate—ruining your score even if you survive.” He paused. “When it turned sexy, I knew it was desperate—resorting to exploiting my… preferences.” Suddenly, he frowned. “Wait—how does the system know my orientation? If I were bi or gay, what would it morph into?”
Gudu Xiaoge interjected, “Your forum profile asks for sexual preference when you register.”
“So the game company’s data leaks into the system?” Feng Bu Jue mused. “Alright, let’s focus on the gate.”
---
The return trip was a sprint. All sensed the scenario’s climax loomed—whether the final boss Sa Modier emerged or not, a demonic climax awaited.
Reaching the gate before the next darkness was impossible. But they had to prevent the final boss from gaining power during the next blackout.
As expected, darkness fell mid-journey—their fourth since entering. Combined with the initial pre-darkness period, two hours had elapsed.
This time, the darkness brought silence—no whispers, no breath, no laughter. Feng Bu Jue’s gut tightened. In horror games, silence meant danger.
Three minutes later, they reached the plaza, panting. Nearly two hours of combat, sprinting, and stamina-draining tasks had worn them thin.
Gu Du (Level 7) and Jimo (Level 6) had burned 400+ stamina each, leaving 200+ reserves. Long Ao Min (Level 8) topped 700 spent—300 alone from his Lightning Charge against the aberrant infant. His non-quantifiable attributes saved him; his remaining stamina: 289/1000.
Feng Bu Jue and Wang Tan Zhi (both Level 5) clung to single-digit stamina—a miracle given their combat roles.
“The quest updated. We should use the Keys now,” Wang Tan Zhi gasped.
Feng Bu Jue approached the gate, Keys raised. Seconds ticked. Nothing.
“This isn’t right,” Long Ao Min muttered.
“No… Something’s wrong,” Feng Bu Jue’s gaze swept the horizon.
The plaza stretched wide, revealing hundreds of monsters spilling from every street. Two types dominated: hulking, snarling beasts and eerie, gaunt specters. Their slow advance bred despair—the slower the threat, the deeper the dread.
“How did this happen? Did we fail something?” Gudu Xiaoge’s voice cracked. “We’re dead, aren’t we?”
Feng Bu Jue steadied the group. “Sa Modier can’t approach the Key or gate seals. Demons avoid this place—they fear the gate’s domain. Now they’re coming… reluctantly.” He positioned them near the door. “If they charge, we retreat inside.”
“Inside? That’s Hell!” Wang Tan Zhi protested.
“Maybe. But Hell’s a prison now—empty, with its ‘inmates’ out here. And death’s death, right?” Feng Bu Jue shrugged. “Back to the spawn point we go.”
They pressed against the gate, backs to Hell. Feng Bu Jue’s mind raced over the scenario’s clues—the city’s time-loop, the 30-minute darkness cycles, the vanished whispers. Somewhere in the pattern lay Sa Modier’s weakness… or their doom.
(End of Chapter)
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