A bizarre resurrection: I, Yang Jian, am bound by a contract with the school beauty!

panic!

An unprecedented panic is spreading like a virus among audiences around the world!

A copy.

There exist multiple ghosts, each with different rules of killing!

This realization completely overturned everyone's understanding of the bizarre world and shattered the last glimmer of hope in their hearts.

This is no longer a survival game.

This was a one-sided massacre!

The hotel has four floors.

If the second, third, and fourth floors are filled with ghosts, excluding the first-floor lobby, how many ghost killing rules does the player need to find to survive?

This is an impossible task!

A sense of despair hung over the countries where every surviving player was located.

however.

Yang Jian, who was on the second floor of the eerie hotel, naturally couldn't see the overwhelming reaction from the global audience.

Even if he could see it, he wouldn't care at all.

Under the horrified gaze of countless people.

He took a step.

His feet made a "plop, plop" sound as they stepped on the sticky, slippery carpet of blood and flesh.

But he walked on flat ground as if on solid ground, his expression remaining completely unchanged.

He completely ignored the eerie gazes coming from all directions from the "eyeball mushrooms".

The stench in the air was enough to suffocate a normal person.

For him.

It was as if it didn't exist.

He walked calmly down the corridor that led to the depths of hell.

His steps were not fast, but they were exceptionally steady.

His ghostly eyes, flashing red light, calmly scanned the rooms on both sides of the corridor.

The doors to these rooms are the same as those in the corridor.

They all presented a strange, fleshy texture, with the door panels covered with protrusions like blood vessels, still pulsating slightly, like giant hearts.

There was no house number on the door.

There are only dark holes, like "keyholes" that resemble the excretory organs of some kind of creature.

Yang Jian walked to the door of the room closest to the stairwell and stopped.

He stared at the pulsating door of flesh and blood for a moment.

then.

Amid the astonished and bewildered gazes of audiences worldwide, he slowly reached out and took out something.

It was a metal doorplate.

Above.

It is engraved with a cold number.

- 201.

This is the room number that the lousy receptionist gave him when he registered at the front desk on the first floor.

Yang Jian simply pasted the sect name on the door.

呲味——

With a crisp sound, the door number was swallowed up by the door, and room number 201 quietly appeared.

After doing all this, Yang Jian pushed open the door and entered the hotel room.

Li Yao was the only one left in the corridor.

As a being who is both human and ghost, Li Yao could clearly sense the terror of the second floor.

She swallowed unconsciously.

Without Yang Jian's protection, she felt an overwhelming sense of gloom and terror in the corridor, where danger could strike at any moment!

She didn't have time to think.

He hurriedly followed Yang Jian's example and pasted the door number on the door of the room closest to him.

With the arrival of rooms 201 and 202, the eerie and writhing corridor gradually calmed down...

.......

.......

Inside the eerie hotel.

An unprecedented silence descended.

It seemed as if Yang Jian and Li Yao had stepped onto the second floor and closed their respective room doors.

The whole hotel was eerie.

Everything fell completely silent in that instant.

Everything disappeared.

Whether it's the ever-spreading charred footprints, the unknown terror inside the elevator, or the invisible wall at the stairwell...

All the anomalies.

Everything seemed to have been paused.

If it weren't for the few shocking footprints still remaining on the luxurious dark red carpet in the lobby on the first floor.

If it weren't for the two already cold corpses, still lying brightly in their respective rooms, reminding everyone of everything that had happened here.

perhaps.

The surviving players could not associate the quiet and luxurious hotel in front of them with words like "horror" and "death".

In a corner of the hall.

The hands of that simple yet elegant European-style clock turned steadily.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock..."

A crisp sound.

The echoes reverberated through the empty, deathly hall, as if death itself were counting down.

time.

It's passing by silently.

In the blink of an eye.

The sky darkened completely, and the outside world was pitch black, as if the thickest ink had been splashed on it.

The hands of an antique clock.

It slowly pointed to 7:30 PM.

"Gurgle..."

An untimely sound rang out in a locked room.

A player from Japan was clutching his stomach, which was protesting loudly, and looked rather unwell.

He was hungry.

Several hours have passed since I entered this damn instance.

During this period, I was in a state of high tension, and my physical exertion far exceeded that of usual.

Hunger.

Like a tidal wave, it crashed against his reason, wave after wave.

It wasn't just him.

now.

All the surviving players face the same problem.

They are human beings.

are people.

You'll get hungry.

They will need to stay in this dangerous hotel for a full week.

It's absolutely impossible to go hungry all the time.

A hungry person.

Unable to maintain optimal physical condition, unable to keep a calm mind, and even less able to make the most correct and rational judgment when danger strikes.

Even the slightest mistake.

In this bizarre instance, anything could lead to utter ruin.

must……

We must find food!

This idea.

Like a wildfire spreading across the land, it was growing wildly in the hearts of every surviving player.

at first.

They also forcibly suppressed their fear of the unknown.

But as time went on, the deathly silence in the hotel began to tip the scales in their hearts.

"It seems... there's no sound outside?"

"The footprint ghost... seems to have disappeared too?"

"We already know its killing rules: as long as we don't step on the charred footprints on the ground, we'll be fine... Yes, we'll be fine!"

One player after another comforted themselves in this way, finding a reasonable excuse for their upcoming actions.

at last.

"Creak—"

The hotel's tranquility was broken by the soft sound of a door hinge turning.

The door to room 108 was slowly pushed open a crack.

A small, thin player poked his head out, like a startled groundhog, warily scanning the empty corridor outside the door.

The corridor lights were bright, and the carpet was still bright red.

Apart from those few black footprints, everything seemed perfectly normal.

He took a deep breath.

As if she had made up her mind, she tiptoed out.

His appearance was like a signal.

"Creak..."

"Creak..."

Followed by.

One door after another was pushed open.

Players of different skin colors and speaking different languages ​​emerged from their "safe houses."

Their movements were remarkably synchronized.

Be careful.

His gaze was fixed intently on the ground beneath his feet.

He walked with extreme caution, afraid that he might accidentally step on the mark that represented death.

The players, having left their rooms, met in the hallway and exchanged glances.

In those eyes.

It was filled with complex emotions.

There was vigilance, caution, and a fleeting tacit understanding among fellow survivors.

No one speaks.

Everyone tacitly headed in the same direction, exploring the lobby on the first floor.

They believe.

Since the mission of this bizarre instance is to allow them to survive here for a week.

So.

The hotel would certainly provide them with the food they needed to survive.

As soon as they found food, they would take it back to their room, lock the door, and never come out again!