Large bags of steaming hot food piled high on Tang Yu’s desk. Tang Yu looked at the spoils of the players’ efforts, a bit overwhelmed. “…Thanks, but this is way too much.”
Yan Lang glanced at Tang Yu’s status panel.
The affection rating remained completely unchanged: 1
“Brother Yan, this NPC is stingy as h*ll. After all that, not even a single point added.” One player whispered, having seen how much effort Yan Lang had put into gathering the food.
But Yan Lang looked unusually calm—even pleased—as he watched Tang Yu carefully take a sandwich and milk.
“This is enough for me.” Tang Yu said softly.
Yan Lang packed the leftover food into his backpack and stared intently at Tang Yu’s face mask.
He had observed today! Every NPC opened their mouth when eating!
Yet the mask still seemed welded to Tang Yu’s face. The NPC kept his head down and, although speaking to him, didn’t look him in the eye. “I still have more things I need help with,” he said in a low voice.
Honestly, Yan Lang was dying of curiosity about Tang Yu’s full face. He even wanted to rip off the mask. But every time the thought came up, that voice echoed in his head: “Stop bullying me.”
And so, even Yan Lang—who had done far worse in this game—hesitated and withdrew his hand. “What is it?”
“I need a bedsheet set that fits the dorm beds. And… there will be more errands coming up.” Tang Yu was worried the players would get annoyed and ask “Why don’t you say everything at once?” or “Why should we help you?”
But instead, the two players responded in unison: “Loop quest?!”
Then they cheerfully left.
…Exactly as Shen Junxing had said.
Tang Yu lowered his eyes, looking at Shen Junxing’s earlier message: “Little Yu just moved into the dorm and is missing a lot. You can send them on errands in batches—they’ll enjoy it.”
Shen Junxing really… knew how to manipulate people.
Once all the players had left the classroom, in the rare peace, Tang Yu took off his mask and scarfed down the sandwich.
He knew Yan Lang had been extremely curious about his face just now—so curious it scared Tang Yu.
He knew his appearance could attract dangerous people.
And the current batch of players was already dangerous enough.
Only someone like Shen Junxing could control them.
Tang Yu just wanted to stay away from the players, from Shen Junxing, from danger—and live as a completely unremarkable background NPC.
He opened his notebook and carefully wrote:
“2. Players love doing quests, even when there’s no immediate reward. Maybe next time, if they start pestering me, I can throw them a quest to distract them? (But still better not to try it. Players are smart. I’m dumb.)”
…
By noon, Yan Lang had run so many errands that he stood in front of Tang Yu with a sack full of goods.
Tang Yu spoke softly, “Next, please help bring these to dorm 623.”
As he spoke, his pale, elegant hand reached out, holding a key by the tip.
Just as Yan Lang reached out, Tang Yu quickly let go, clearly trying to avoid even the slightest touch.
Yan Lang took the key and looked again at the affection rating on Tang Yu’s panel: 1
He clicked his tongue before striding off with the sack.
“Brother Yan, this task is really easy. Just time-consuming. Are we gonna have to run errands for thirty rounds to get a reward?”
A player muttered nearby. “I wonder what the reward is. Hope it’s not just more affection from Tang Yu.”
Yan Lang’s expression remained unchanged—until he heard “Tang Yu’s affection,” and his brow suddenly lifted.
“That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Huh?”
The players resisted temptation all the way and finally arrived at the dorm building.
The sleepy dorm matron lay on her recliner. When she saw the players carrying burlap sacks bigger than themselves, she couldn’t help but call out, “Oh my! Which floor are you two headed to?”
“The sixth!” the player responded enthusiastically to every NPC who spoke to them.
“The sixth? That’s pretty far. Looks heavy too,” the dorm matron clicked her tongue. “Which room?”
“623,” the player answered.
“Young people sure are strong,” the dorm matron waved them off. “Be careful, don’t hurt your backs.”
She watched as the players disappeared up the staircase with their sacks, then lay back down in her recliner and squinted in the sunlight in contentment. But the next second, she suddenly sat up in horror.
“…623?!”
…
“623.” Yan Lang looked up at the faded room number. He pulled out a key and opened the dorm room door.
As he stepped in, he saw the curtains on the balcony were tightly drawn. Sunlight filtered through the dark green fabric, casting a dim green glow over one corner of the dorm room.
The two beds near the balcony were clearly unoccupied—top bunks with desks below, tidy and unused.
Yan Lang walked through the narrow passage and came to a bed on the right, completely shrouded by black-and-white curtains. It was the only bed in the room that looked inhabited.
Though not exactly in a “lived-in by the living” way.
“This place looks like a mourning hall,” the player behind Yan Lang muttered.
Yan Lang dropped his sack on the floor with a thud, kicking up dust that floated in the green-tinted light. The entire dorm seemed covered in dust, even the pale walls looked gray.
He stared at the bed hidden behind thick white curtains, his gaze locking in sharply.
[You used “Weakness Analysis” on Bed #1. Analysis failed.]
It failed?
“Brother Yan, this place really gives me the creeps,” the player whispered.
Yan Lang stepped closer, close enough to smell the faint, chilly fragrance from the curtain.
It was the same scent he smelled earlier on Tang Yu.
Was this Tang Yu’s bed?
If it was, then why did Tang Yu ask him to buy so many daily necessities, like he was moving in? Tang Yu didn’t bring anything himself, but had this heavy curtain that even covered the desk below. What was he trying to hide?
If this wasn’t Tang Yu’s bed, then why did he smell exactly like this?
…Did Tang Yu sleep here last night?
Before he could think it through, his hand acted faster than his mind. He reached out and grabbed the curtain. His fingers brushed against the cold, slick surface of the silky fabric, leaving deep wrinkles as he pulled.
“Wait, wait, Brother Yan!” his teammate said nervously. “Are you really going to open it?”
“Isn’t this kind of thing meant for players to open?” Yan Lang replied softly, then yanked the curtain aside—
And came face-to-face with a pale human-like face.
“Holy—!” the player behind him blurted out. Yan Lang’s heart skipped a beat. But when he looked more closely, it turned out to be a crudely made paper effigy.
The effigy had painted black eyes, two bright red blush spots on the cheeks, and a flat, expressionless mouth.
“The h*ll’s wrong with whoever sleeps here! Putting a paper doll like this here scared the cr*p out of me,” the teammate kept babbling nervously.
Yan Lang stared at the paper effigy.
[You used “Weakness Analysis” on the effigy.]
[You discover that its entire body is a weakness.]
He poked it. Its head wobbled from the force. Yan Lang let out a short laugh.
“Brother Yan, at first glance it looked so real. I’ve seen paper effigies before, at my grandpa’s funeral, but they didn’t look like this,” the teammate said. “Though I’m not sure exactly what’s different.”
Yan Lang listened absentmindedly. The paper man seemed so fragile—he could poke a hole in it with little effort.
Then, he suddenly froze.
An uneasy feeling swept over him. He looked behind: just his rambling teammate and an empty bed. He looked at the balcony—the curtains gently swayed in the wind. He looked up: the old ceiling fan was covered in dust and cobwebs, two dead insects trapped inside.
Yan Lang scanned the room again—nothing unusual. He looked back at the painted paper figure. “Tch.”
He punched it.
The effigy collapsed silently to the floor. His teammate screamed in fright.
“I thought it moved on its own!”
“It was me,” Yan Lang reassured him.
“This thing is really creepy…” The teammate slapped his forehead. “The eyes! That’s what’s different!”
“Huh?” Yan Lang raised an eyebrow.
“Brother Yan! I remember now—at my grandpa’s funeral, the paper effigies didn’t have eyes. I asked my dad why, and he slapped me and told me not to ask about such things.”
He looked again at the crumpled paper man on the ground. Its painted black eyes stared blankly, its head twisted at a disturbing angle.
Strange. Even under the gaze of multiple NPCs, he hadn’t felt this strongly watched—but those black eyes gave him chills.
“I learned later that paper effigies aren’t supposed to have eyes. If they do, they look too real.”
Yan Lang glanced at the overly fake paper effigy, then turned back to the bed still partially covered by the curtain.
What’s on that bed?
He reached for the remaining curtain.
Bang! A loud noise echoed in the dim room. Yan Lang instinctively turned—someone had slammed the dorm door shut.
But there was no wind.
How did it close?
He backed away from the bed and slowly walked toward the door.
One step. Two steps.
The intense feeling of being watched grew with each step.
He squinted at the small window on the door—and saw a shadowy head flash past.
“There’s someone! After them!” Yan Lang shouted and flung the door open, chasing after the shadow with lightning speed.
His teammate scrambled to follow. The door was left ajar behind them.
In the greenish, chilly dorm room, the fallen paper effigy had returned to its original upright position. Its black eyes stared silently at the players’ backs. The corner of its mouth seemed to curl slightly… into a smile.
The heavy curtain dropped again. The dorm room door slammed shut with a bang.
Thud, thud, thud.
The players’ footsteps echoed urgently in the corridor as they saw the figure disappear down the staircase.
There were no windows nearby. Despite it being daytime, it felt oppressively dark.
They chased without hesitation, pounding down step after step, floor after floor.
“Huff, huff… Brother Yan, I can’t run anymore.”
“Wait—”
“No, it’s fine, don’t wait for me—go!”
“No, what I meant was…” Yan Lang looked up at the floor number, his brow furrowed. “We’ve been running down all this time, but why are we still on the fifth floor?”
…
Tang Yu anxiously watched the classroom door, dreading the sight of the players barging in again, full of excitement.
He didn’t know what kind of reward to give them this time, nor what task to assign next—after all, they’d already bought almost all the daily supplies.
Distressed, he checked his phone and reread the message from Shen Junxing: “Tenth mission: Have them deliver everything they bought to your dorm room.”
Tang Yu had replied, “And then?”
Shen Junxing: “There is no ‘then.’”
Back then, Tang Yu didn’t ask why—because the players had arrived.
Now, an hour had passed since the tenth mission began, and the usually fast-paced players still hadn’t shown up.
Staring at the chat, blue eyes unblinking, Tang Yu suddenly had a revelation.
He thought he finally understood what Shen Junxing meant by “there is no ‘then.’”
