Swish—
Swish—
Swish—
In the dead of night, the sound of something being dragged on the ground echoed outside the corridor of the cabin.
Ji Nansheng opened his eyes in the darkness, quietly got out of bed, and walked to the door.
He tried his best not to make a sound, pressing his eyes against the glass and peeking outside.
In the pitch-black corridor, a shadow slowly slid past the corner of his eye.
Because it was too dark outside, Ji Nansheng couldn’t see clearly what was moving, but he vaguely noticed that whatever it was didn’t move like a human.
It seemed to be crawling along the ground, dragging itself.
There were still three million people in the live broadcast room, and the barrage was buzzing.
[Come on, Nansheng, open the door and rush out.]
[Is the exciting scene about to happen?]
[Don’t block the screen with comments, thank you.]
[Barrage blocking technique!]
Ji Nansheng glanced back; on the other bed, Glasses was sleeping soundly, completely undisturbed by the noise outside.
It was already ten o’clock by the time the circus performance ended.
The system had suddenly issued a message for all players to return to their rooms, lock their doors and windows, and go to sleep. Glasses, terrified after watching the horror circus all night, insisted on squeezing into the same room with him out of fear.
The room had two beds, and since Glasses looked pitiful, Ji Nansheng couldn’t refuse and reluctantly agreed.
At first, Glasses had been too scared to sleep, but after just over two hours, he was now sleeping like a log, despite claiming earlier that he was too frightened to fall asleep.
Ji Nansheng smiled wryly, walked over to Glasses, and nudged his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”
With a light push, Glasses’ body rolled off the bed like a round egg, tumbling to the floor without any defense.
Thud—a dull sound rang out.
Ji Nansheng quickly circled to the other side and saw Glasses lying face down on the floor, completely still.
An ominous feeling suddenly crept into Ji Nansheng’s mind.
He bent down and flipped Glasses over, only to find his eyes wide open. They were bloodshot and bulging, and his mouth was wide open in terror.
He tentatively placed his fingers on Glasses’ neck, but his body was cold as ice, with no pulse.
Ji Nansheng immediately jumped up, retreating a full two meters in one leap.
Even though he knew this was just a game, the sight of such a realistic corpse and the sudden coldness startled him.
He didn’t even know how Glasses had died. The thought of spending the night in the same room with a corpse made Ji Nansheng break out in goosebumps all over.
‘Glasses is dead?’
‘How did he die?’
Ji Nansheng quickly regained his composure from the initial shock and walked swiftly to check the door lock.
The door was locked from the inside and securely latched, showing no signs of being forced open.
No one had broken in—could the monster that killed Glasses still be in the room?
Ji Nansheng quickly flipped on the light, and the room was instantly flooded with brightness.
There was nothing unusual in the room, no signs of damage or anything else lurking around.
There was no indication that anything had been hiding there.
Ji Nansheng returned to Glasses and examined his face carefully.
Bloodshot eyes, mouth wide open, a terrified expression, and a faint greenish tint to his skin.
Could it be that… he was scared to death?
Was he scared to death in his dream?
Although they had been teammates just a few hours ago, Glasses’ sudden transformation into a corpse made Ji Nansheng feel uncomfortable.
After checking the body, Ji Nansheng swiftly covered Glasses with a blanket, preferring not to see it anymore.
The barrage was already exploding with messages, but Ji Nansheng couldn’t be bothered to read them.
Just as he was about to open the door and check the corridor, he received a system prompt.
[Ding! Friendly reminder: The important plot has concluded. Players may now initiate a time jump. Would you like to proceed with the time jump?]
[Yes/No]
The important plot was over—does that mean it’s safe outside now?
Ji Nansheng quickly made his decision. He pressed [No], opened the door, and stepped out into the corridor.
The corridor lights overhead were dim, and there wasn’t a single person in sight.
He stood in the corridor for a moment before heading toward the stairs.
Just as he was about to reach the stairwell, Ji Nansheng stopped in his tracks, frowning as he looked up at the ceiling.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
A rhythmic pounding came from above, as if something heavy was hitting the floor upstairs.
The chandelier on the ceiling swayed slightly, and dust drifted down.
Ji Nansheng’s gaze shifted from the ceiling to the elevator ahead.
The pounding stopped, but the previously still elevator had started moving by itself.
The thick black cables under the old, rickety elevator slowly turned as the elevator descended.
Ji Nansheng glanced at the elevator and, acting on instinct, rushed up the nearby stairs, taking three steps at a time.
As he reached the corner of the stairs on the third floor, the elevator arrived at the fourth.
He held his breath, crouched on the stairs and peeked down.
A low growl echoed from the elevator, and then a massive lion stepped out, swishing its tail as it walked slowly from the elevator.
Ji Nansheng’s eyes widened in disbelief at the giant beast below.
It looked like the circus lion.
The lion hadn’t noticed Ji Nansheng yet, and it continued padding down the corridor.
When it reached the first door, the lion scratched at it with its huge paw.
The door was locked, and after trying to open it for a while, the lion moved further down the corridor.
Watching the lion walk deeper into the corridor, Ji Nansheng suddenly had a bad premonition. ‘Not good!’
The room wasn’t locked after he left, and Glasses’ corpse was still inside.
Although he knew Glasses was dead and had most likely failed the game and left the copy, leaving behind only a game model of the body, he still felt a little guilty about exposing the body to the lion.
Just as the lion was about to reach his room, the door of the room behind him suddenly opened.
An NPC rubbing his sleepy eyes complained, “Who’s being so inconsiderate in the middle of the night? Can’t people sleep… Ah! A lion!!!”
It was too late.
With a roar, the lion pounced on the NPC, pinning him at the doorway and biting into him savagely.
Ji Nansheng covered his mouth, watching helplessly as the man’s struggling legs gradually stopped moving.
He was horrified and mentally shouted to the system, [System, initiate time jump.]
The system’s voice echoed in his mind, [Sorry, player. Your current environment is not safe, so time jump is unavailable. Please move to a safe zone before attempting a time jump.]
Upon hearing this, Ji Nansheng knew he couldn’t stay there any longer. He quietly made his way up the stairs to the third floor.
If he had chosen the time jump before opening the door earlier, when the room was securely locked, the lion wouldn’t have attacked, and he could have safely made it to the next day.
But once he opened the door, the situation became unsafe, preventing the time jump.
The Dream Star had five floors in total.
The captain and crew lived on the first floor, while the second and fourth floors housed guests like him. The second floor mostly hosted nobles, while the fourth floor had lower-status individuals.
As for the fifth floor, it was where the stewards and circus performers stayed.
The tigers and other wild animals were kept on a lower storage deck, closely monitored by the circus.
Many players had said there was something wrong with the circus. Not just wrong—something was seriously messed up in their heads.
The performances they put on could hardly be called circus acts anymore; they were more like death spectacles.
The live broadcast room buzzed with activity again.
[It’s the circus lion.]
[Nansheng, go to the circus. There’s definitely something wrong there!]
[Go for it, Nansheng.]
[Damn, don’t go, it’s terrifying.]
[What are you scared of? If the sky falls, the anchor will hold it up.]
[Good point. Come on Anchor, go to the circus.]
Ji Nansheng’s mouth twitched.
This bunch—they were enjoying the chaos too much.
He wanted to investigate the circus, but he wasn’t crazy enough to go there at this moment.
Suddenly, a five-thousand-yuan spaceship was thrown into his live broadcast room.
Then a second one.
Ji Nansheng: “…”
‘Go! I have to go!’
Forget the circus—if his sponsor told him to jump into a vat of boiling oil right now, he would!
As he hesitated, trying to figure out how to get to the fifth floor, a door creaked open on the third floor.
Ji Nansheng’s nerves tensed, and he turned sharply only to see the tall Dijia stepping out of a room.
It was the room next to the Count’s.
Dijia looked as if he had just showered, his whole body dripping wet.
But his expression was somewhat satisfied, like a beast that had just eaten its fill.
Ji Nansheng hadn’t expected to run into Dijia here. For a moment, he even thought he’d rather be in a room with the lion than with Dijia.
But that was just wishful thinking. As Ji Nansheng stood frozen, Dijia strode toward him on his long legs. “What are you doing here?”
Dijia’s voice was hoarse, as if waking from a drunken stupor.
Ji Nansheng opened and closed his mouth a few times before stammering out a response, “I’m hiding from the lion. Why are you here? And…why are you coming out of that room?”
Dijia: “I’m investigating the countess, of course.”
Ji Nansheng: “We didn’t see you all night. Where have you been?”
Dijia raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I’m still investigating the Countess.”
Ji Nansheng glanced at the long corridor with a strange expression. “Are you saying you’ve been investigating the Countess all night? Did you find anything?”
Dijia stroked his chin and pondered, “I gained quite a lot.”
Ji Nansheng: “What?”
Dijia: “She looks great even in deep sleep.”
Ji Nansheng: “Huh?”
‘What? Are you some kind of love-struck fool?’
Dijia nodded affirmatively. “As expected, she must be the Siren. I can’t think of anyone else.”
Ji Nansheng: “…”
