“Huff… huff… Brother Yan, I can’t run anymore.” Miao Dongli clutched the stair railing, panting heavily.
“Wait.” Yan Lang’s voice drifted up from below the stairwell.
“It’s… it’s fine, Brother Yan, you don’t need to wait for me, just keep chasing!” Miao Dongli was so exhausted he wanted to flop right down onto the stairs, but then he heard Yan Lang’s gentle reply: “I’ll wait for you right here. Come over.”
Huh?
The dog-tired Miao Dongli couldn’t help feeling a little moved. He had thought that, given Yan Lang’s personality, he would have just left him behind to chase after the quest target.
Turns out Yan Lang’s actually a pretty good guy!
Supporting himself on the railing, Miao Dongli made his way downward. After a few steps, he leaned forward to peek down—only to see the stairwell completely empty. The layers of staircases wound on and on like an endless spiral, and the longer he stared, the stronger a nameless sense of dread welled up in his chest.
“Brother Yan, where are you?”
From the dim corridor came Yan Lang’s voice: “I’m here.”
Miao Dongli turned toward the shadowed hallway. Though it was clearly daytime, that place looked abnormally dark.
“Brother Yan, when did you go in there?” Miao Dongli didn’t even know why he was stalling, dragging his steps.
“I’ve found something new. Hurry over.” Yan Lang’s tone now carried an edge that brooked no refusal. Hearing this, Miao Dongli stopped thinking and quickly headed toward the corridor. As he drew near, a wave of cold air rushed against him.
“Come closer!” The voice urged, sharp and insistent.
Miao Dongli stepped into the heavy darkness.
The next second, a terrified scream ripped out of the black.
***
“No, what I mean is…” Yan Lang lifted his head, staring at the floor numbers, his brow tightly furrowed. “We’ve been running down for so long—why are we still on the fifth floor?”
From above came Miao Dongli’s excited shout: “Brother Yan, come up here quick! I’ve found something new!”
Yan Lang headed back up the stairs, but when he reached the landing, there was no trace of his teammate in the stairwell.
“Where are you?”
Miao Dongli’s voice echoed from the pitch-black corridor. “Brother Yan! I’m over here, come quickly!”
Yan Lang looked up at the unchanged floor number: 5.
He suddenly realized something.
Although they hadn’t known each other for long, based on what he’d observed of Miao Dongli, the player was timid. Even though they both knew this was just a game, when exploring Room 623 today, Miao Dongli had followed behind him the whole time. Every step he took, Miao Dongli followed. Even with the bed curtains, he had to open them first and confirm there was nothing wrong with the paper effigy before Miao Dongli dared approach.
Logically, Miao Dongli wouldn’t dare go off alone—especially not after Yan Lang had just pointed out the eerie situation of them being stuck in a loop on the fifth floor. He wouldn’t go exploring the hallway by himself.
Yan Lang narrowed his eyes, his gaze cold.
[You used Weakness Analysis on ???. Analysis failed.]
“Miao Dongli, come out,” Yan Lang said.
During the time they had spent together, Miao Dongli had always been obedient to him.
“I’m tired of walking, Brother Yan. Come over here,” the voice said again.
Yan Lang decided to handle it like a player. Since they were in-game friends, he could contact Miao Dongli through the system.
[Unknown game error]
[Unknown game error]
[Unknown game error]
A series of mechanical messages popped up. Yan Lang realized not only could he not reach Miao Dongli, but he also couldn’t open the player forums or exit the game.
Just then, the corridor echoed again with Miao Dongli’s voice, now more urgent: “Brother Yan, why aren’t you coming over?”
Yan Lang didn’t respond or move forward.
He stared at the shadowy corridor just a few steps away. The voice inside became more hysterical: “Why aren’t you coming!!! Why aren’t you coming!!!”
The tone shifted from urgency to a hysterical scream, then suddenly became a vicious, resentful shriek that echoed throughout the hallway.
Amid the chaos, Yan Lang’s expression remained blank—then suddenly, he smiled. It was the kind of pure, gleeful smile a gamer makes when they find a game that truly excites them.
“Pretty interesting,” he said.
The screaming stopped abruptly.
Silence fell around him like a heavy curtain.
Yan Lang was used to such silence. Just like every time he streamed horror games, he waved at the empty hallway and said brightly, “Welcome to my stream, dear viewers…”
Then, he confidently stepped into the dark corridor.
A chilling air enveloped him. The sensation beneath his feet suddenly changed—it no longer felt like solid ground, but like a rickety suspension bridge that could give way at any moment.
At the end of the dim hallway stood a figure.
Yan Lang stared intently at the silhouette. His left hand reached into his backpack, which contained the various items he’d collected.
At nearly the same moment, he saw the figure across from him also reach behind its back, as if to grab something.
Without a word, Yan Lang pulled out a flashlight. The pale beam landed on the figure at the far end of the hallway. It was too far to see its face clearly, but he could tell its left hand was empty.
Yan Lang held up his flashlight. The figure did the same, even though its hand held nothing.
He realized the thing was just mimicking him.
He tilted his head slightly, testing it.
The figure mimicked him exactly.
He took two steps forward.
So did the figure.
He turned around and walked away, the flashlight beam illuminating the gray-white hallway. Suddenly, he spun around.
The figure at the end of the hallway had also turned, and they locked eyes again.
“This monster can perfectly mimic our movements,” Yan Lang muttered, completely immersed in streamer mode despite the game’s lack of a livestream feature. “But there’s one thing it can’t mimic.”
He reached toward his backpack with his right hand. The figure mirrored him.
Yan Lang smiled. His eyes were phoenix-shaped and sharp, his smile both charming and dangerous. His fans used to flood the stream chat with “It’s hunting time” whenever he smiled like that.
“And that’s what I’m holding in my hand.”
He pulled a watermelon knife from the backpack, gripping it tightly.
He crouched slightly, like a panther ready to strike, and then charged at the figure.
The figure also sprinted toward him—but only Yan Lang’s footsteps echoed in the hallway.
The figure made no sound.
The closer Yan Lang got, the more familiar the figure looked.
A cold wind blew from behind him, rustling the hallway. A faint rustling, like wind through leaves, echoed in the distance.
They drew closer and closer—
Until Yan Lang finally saw its face—
Pitch-black phoenix eyes, bright red blush, a smiling mouth—
What was running toward him was the paper effigy he had drawn himself, down to the exact same smile.
Without a second of hesitation, Yan Lang activated Weakness Analysis and raised his watermelon knife to strike—but his arm froze in mid-air.
If someone had measured the hallway and marked its exact center, they would find that Yan Lang’s knife had just crossed the midpoint.
The paper effigy opened its fingers.
Yan Lang’s hand loosened uncontrollably, finger by finger. The knife clattered to the floor, right at the figure’s feet.
The paper effigy bent down.
Yan Lang bent down at the same time.
In his downward view, Yan Lang rolled his eyes with all his might. He saw the paper effigy pick up the knife, while his own hand grabbed nothing but air.
The sharp blade was raised—
And swung at Yan Lang.
Once.
Again.
And again.
Within the only field of vision he could still control, Yan Lang saw his own blood spurting out. The blood splattered onto the paper effigy, and as its body absorbed the blood, its once pale, withered form grew full and flushed with color.
Once.
Again.
And again.
From the very start of the game, Yan Lang had set his pain sensitivity to zero. Though there was no pain at all, what swept through his entire body was… a shudder.
***
Miao Dongli sat sweating profusely on the stair landing between the fourth and fifth floors, his face ashen. Just recalling the moment when he stepped into that corridor and was killed by a paper effigy that looked so much like Yan Lang made him shiver uncontrollably.
These things that looked like people but weren’t people—they were creepy as h*ll!
He drew a deep breath and opened his system. Seeing no response at all from Yan Lang in his friend list, he couldn’t help sending another message: “Brother Yan, I’m waiting on the fourth floor. If you’re done, can you send me your location?”
Still, Yan Lang gave no reply.
From the moment Miao Dongli was killed in the corridor, then resurrected outside the fifth floor, Yan Lang had never once answered him.
Brother Yan must still be busy.
***
After morning classes, Tang Yu went to the cafeteria, packed up lunch, and headed back to the dorm.
He wanted to see if the players were still in his room.
To be honest, Tang Yu already regretted listening to Shen Junxing and assigning that tenth task to the players.
Over the years he had gotten used to following Shen Junxing’s arrangements—especially in times of panic, he would instinctively treat Shen Junxing as his anchor.
But now that he had the time to think back, Tang Yu realized the players would definitely be rummaging through 623, turning the dorm upside down.
Senior looked like someone who valued personal privacy a lot. He was bound to be very, very angry.
Head lowered, Tang Yu slowly made his way toward the dorm, silently rehearsing his apology over and over.
Just as he was about to reach the staircase leading to the fifth floor, a somewhat familiar voice yanked him out of his thoughts.
“Tang Yu!” Miao Dongli called out excitedly.
Tang Yu turned his head, recognizing him as one of the players who had accepted the tenth task that day. “The key?”
“It’s not with me, it’s with Brother Yan!”
“Where’s Yan Lang?”
“Brother Yan should still be on the stairs, I think?” Miao Dongli said uncertainly, pointing toward the endless spiral staircase that still gave him chills.
If it had been last night, Tang Yu would’ve kept his distance from this staircase. But now it was broad daylight, the sun was bright, and besides—Senior had told him in the morning that he could cross the staircase on his own.
Tang Yu let out a faint “mm” and started up the stairs. Behind him came Miao Dongli’s anxious, high-pitched shout: “Hey, hey! Wait up!”
Tang Yu had no intention of waiting for a player. He tugged his cap lower, pretended not to hear, and quickened his steps.
“Tang Yu!” The player’s voice cracked. That cry made Tang Yu think back to last night’s eerie voices…
“Tang Yu?” A young man’s voice came from above.
Tang Yu stopped and lifted his head—seeing Yan Lang standing on the staircase.
The tall boy was dressed simply in black shirt and black pants, one hand on the railing, looking down at him with a strangely intent expression.
Tang Yu froze for a moment.
He couldn’t put his finger on what was strange about Yan Lang’s face just then. Was it just the heat? Yan Lang’s cheeks seemed a little flushed.
“Holy sh*t?! Brother Yan!” Miao Dongli gasped sharply. “Brother Yan, is that you?!”
Only then did Yan Lang shift his gaze away from Tang Yu, turning to the startled Miao Dongli. “I saw your message just now. I was exploring a hidden dungeon and hadn’t had the chance to reply.”
“What! A hidden dungeon?!” At those words, Miao Dongli forgot everything else—even his fear of the looping staircase. He bounded up eagerly. “How did you unlock it, bro?!”
“I’ll tell you later.” After saying that, Yan Lang looked back at Tang Yu.
Tang Yu, bewildered by the players’ exchange, decided not to concern himself with it. He simply held out his hand, feigning calm. “The key.”
Yan Lang pulled a set of keys from his pocket. Maybe it was the lighting in the stairwell, but to Tang Yu his hand seemed even paler.
Under Yan Lang’s intense gaze, Tang Yu caught the keys, then immediately bolted upstairs.
As he reached the sixth floor, he overheard the players behind him: “Wow, Brother Yan, what did you do in the hidden dungeon? How did the loop on this staircase end…”
So this strange staircase is actually a dungeon for the players? Tang Yu quickened his pace and left the players behind.
……
Yan Lang stood at the corridor entrance, staring at Tang Yu’s figure, who was almost running away. His expression was a little dazed. “It wasn’t me who ended the loop.”
The usually enthusiastic Miao Dongli, who was just in the middle of praising Yan Lang, paused. “Huh?”
“I came out of the hidden dungeon, then re-entered this looping staircase. I walked it over and over again, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get out. Until…”
“Until what?”
“Until Tang Yu appeared. The loop ended.”
Miao Dongli: “Huh???”
After confirming that Yan Lang wasn’t joking, Miao Dongli was shocked. “Brother Yan, you mean it was Tang Yu who ended the loop in the staircase?!”
What the h*ll happened? The NPC Tang Yu, who was supposed to be just a decorative character, suddenly became mysterious and unpredictable!
“I’m not sure how he did it. But if it wasn’t just a coincidence, it really was Tang Yu who ended it all.”
“No matter what, we backed the right NPC!” Miao Dongli said excitedly. “What are we waiting for! Brother Yan, let’s hurry up and go keep hyping him up!”
But just as Miao Dongli was about to charge forward, the previously most eager Yan Lang stopped him.
Facing Miao Dongli’s confused gaze, Yan Lang said, “He looks like he wants to be alone right now. If we suddenly go over, it might bother him and backfire.”
“Good point!” Miao Dongli was easily persuaded. “Oh right, Brother Yan, did I tell you what I ran into on that d*mned staircase before? A paper effigy that looked just like you! Scared the h*ll out of me!”
“How similar?”
“Super similar, like it was vividly drawn. But while it looked like you on the outside, it didn’t feel like you at all. It was hollow, just a superficial resemblance.” Miao Dongli explained seriously.
Yan Lang stared at Miao Dongli and suddenly gave a smile full of interest. “So, can you tell the difference between a paper effigy and the real me now?”
“Of course I can!” Miao Dongli flattered, “Paper effigies clearly don’t have your interesting soul, Brother Yan!”
Yan Lang didn’t respond. While Miao Dongli continued rambling, he clasped his hands behind his back and discreetly pressed his right index finger into his left wrist. A small hole appeared in his skin easily—but there was no trace of blood.
Glancing at the strange wound from the corner of his eye, Yan Lang tugged down his sleeve and covered the hole.
