Now, he had every reason to believe that Dijia was simply obsessed with appearances! His reason for determining the Countess was the Siren had always been just one thing—her face!
Ji Nansheng rubbed his temples. “Glasses is dead.”
Dijia responded with a nonchalant “Oh” and calmly offered comfort, “Don’t be too sad. You might join him soon enough.”
Ji Nansheng: “…”
‘Thanks a lot, you’re really good at comforting people.’
Dijia seemed to be in a good mood and was unusually talkative tonight. “Where are you heading?”
Ji Nansheng: “I’m planning to check out the circus on the fifth floor.”
Dijia: “Since I have nothing better to do, I’ll go with you.”
To be honest, Ji Nansheng’s instinct was to refuse. “Are you really that free? How about continuing your investigation of the Countess?”
Dijia: “! can’t go back.”
His wife kicked him out and now he’s bored to death.
Ji Nansheng: “…”
What’s scarier than investigating the circus on your own?
Investigating the circus with Dijia, who might be the Siren.
To get to the storage level, one had to first reach the fifth floor, then enter from there. But to access the fifth floor, they had to pass through the fourth floor where the lion roamed.
Just as Ji Nansheng was at a loss, Dijia, the living ancestor, had already started descending the stairs without a care.
He didn’t even lower his voice; his leather shoes clacked crisply on the wooden steps.
Ji Nansheng heard the low growl of the lion and felt a looming sense of danger.
However, what happened next completely overturned his worldview.
When the lion, the king of the savannah, heard the noise and approached the staircase, it suddenly did something entirely out of character. It lay down on the ground.
Its mane-covered tail was tucked timidly beneath it, its body was trembling, and it was whimpering softly like a giant house pet, more obedient than ever.
Dijia merely cast a faint glance at the lion, and a foul-smelling yellow liquid immediately pooled beneath it.
The king of the savannah, the beast that terrified everyone, had actually pissed itself in fear?!
Dijia turned back and glanced at Ji Nansheng. “Not coming?”
Ji Nansheng looked at Dijia, then at the lion, his expression complicated, but he reluctantly followed.
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
In the live broadcast room:
[Whoa, one look and the lion wets itself? This player must definitely be a Siren in disguise.]
[Who else could have such a strong aura but a Siren?]
[I don’t know why, but even through the screen, I feel like this Dijia is terrifying. Just one glance from him feels like it could kill me.]
[I think he looks like a battle-hardened general, radiating a deadly aura.]
[Exactly, that’s why he must be a Siren! Sirens have killed so many people, no wonder he exudes such a strong aura.]
[Nansheng, he’s definitely the Siren! Don’t follow him, run!]
Ji Nansheng: “…”
‘You think I don’t want to run?’
‘If only my legs would listen!’
Just now, Dijia just glanced at him and his legs had moved of their own accord.
[Honestly, I think Dijia is really handsome. Nansheng, why not just suffer a little and stick with him so we can see more of him.]
[That’s true, there’s no denying his looks.]
[Exactly! Besides, if the Siren does lose his temper, it’ll be Nansheng getting killed, not us.]
Ji Nansheng: “…”
‘You bunch of black fans!’
‘Absolutely black-hearted!’
With a heart full of reluctance, Ji Nansheng followed behind Dijia to the fifth floor.
The fifth floor was the staff area, with rooms lined up closely together. A few doors had colorful ribbons and clown faces on them, likely rooms assigned to the circus members.
When they reached the fifth floor, Dijia stopped, crossing his arms lazily and leaning against the wall. He nodded toward the interior. “Fifth floor, go investigate.”
Ji Nansheng: “You’re not going?”
Dijia, looking every bit of a big boss, said, “Too lazy.”
Ji Nansheng: “…”
‘Then why did you come down at all?’
‘Was it because you were worried I couldn’t make it down and came just to escort me?’
!!!
Ji Nansheng only dared to think like this in his heart.
Under Dijia’s watchful gaze, he nodded obediently and headed towards the rooms with the clown faces.
The light from the corridor streamed into the rooms, barely illuminating the scene inside.
There were two single beds, with the blankets neatly folded at the head of the beds.
It was so late, yet no one was resting in the room.
Ji Nansheng was momentarily puzzled but quickly moved to check the next door.
Just like the first one, there were two single beds inside, with no signs of anyone having slept in them.
Unconvinced, Ji Nansheng went through all the remaining rooms with clown faces.
Without exception, every room was empty.
The circus members weren’t here?
Could they all be in the storage level below?
He glanced at Dijia, who was still leaning against the wall, then turned and descended the stairs.
The storage level was vast, divided into many different sections.
Food, vegetables, fresh water, and fine wine were all stored in separate sections.
There was also an area where the circus beasts were kept.
Ji Nansheng’s heart pounded as he cautiously approached that area, and once again, he was stunned by what he saw.
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
No lions, no tigers, no cheetahs.
Nor were there any circus performers.
In the vast space, a few huge iron cages were scattered about, rusted and weathered by the elements.
One of the cages seemed to contain a shadowy mass. As he stepped closer, he realized it was a pile of enormous bones.
Judging by the shape, they were the bones of beasts, not humans.
Ji Nansheng frowned as he backed out of the room and moved on to the other storage areas.
What he saw continued to surprise him.
The storage rooms for food, water, wine, and vegetables were all empty.
Barrels meant to hold water and wine had long since been overturned, and the grain had grown moldy.
Ji Nansheng’s mind raced.
A three-year gap.
The last voyage of the Dream Star was three years ago.
Could it be that much of what they had seen wasn’t real?
For example, the circus—there was no circus at all.
No, perhaps there had indeed been a Royal Circus on the Dream Star three years ago, but now, three years later, the Royal Circus on the Dream Star was nothing but ghosts?
Ji Nansheng suddenly remembered the man whose wife jumped into the sea. The photo he had taken out had yellowed—maybe because it had been oxidizing for more than three years?
Were the guests not real either?
And the Count.
Perhaps others didn’t know that the Royal Circus was full of ghosts, but the Count, who was the employer of the circus, surely knew. Or did he not?
Could he also be a ghost?
Ji Nansheng frowned.
Or maybe, there wasn’t a single living person on this ship?
They had said there was once a ship that strayed into the siren’s territory, from which no one ever returned. Which ship could that be?
Could it be the Dream Star?
Three years ago, the Dream Star had wandered into the siren’s territory, and after being killed by the sirens, they hadn’t realized they were dead.
Their souls had been trapped on this ship ever since?
The abandoned cockpit.
The old cages.
The eerie fog.
The time-altered photograph…
The more Ji Nansheng thought about it, the more he felt this was the answer.
If that were the case, this ship wasn’t a luxurious cruise ship—it was a ghost ship!
[Ding! Congratulations, player, for triggering the side task—Ghost Ship.]
[The player has uncovered a shocking secret. This massive ship seems unreal and may in fact be a ghost ship. The player has also discovered that the last voyage of the Dream Star took place three years ago. Perhaps, three years ago, the Dream Star accidentally entered the siren’s territory. What exactly happened on the Dream Star three years ago?]
[Please uncover what the Dream Star experienced three years ago. Upon completion of this task, the player will receive a surprise reward.]
[Friendly reminder: Please hurry, as NPCs will gradually disappear over time, and you may miss crucial clues if you hesitate.]
Ji Nansheng’s vision blurred for a moment, and the previously clean and tidy wooden door suddenly transformed with a static crackle into a rotting, insect-ridden door covered in cobwebs.
The static sounded again, and the dilapidated door flashed in front of his eyes before returning to its former pristine state.
Ji Nansheng snapped back to his senses and immediately ran upstairs.
After all that running back and forth, his legs were worn out, while Dijia, the big “ancestor,” hadn’t moved an inch from where he had been standing.
He couldn’t even spare the energy to be afraid of Dijia anymore. He just looked up at the fifth-floor corridor.
The sound of static buzzed in his ears again.
In front of him, like a glitching TV screen, the beautiful, ribbon-adorned wooden door suddenly morphed into a scene of ruins.
The dilapidated corridor was covered in dust, webs, and crawling insects, while a damp, foul stench filled the air.
The image flickered for two seconds before once again returning to the elegant corridor.
Ji Nansheng ran up to the fourth floor decisively.
After Dijia had left, the lion returned to its usual ferocious self, and was lying in the corridor and gnawing on a corpse.
Ji Nansheng stood at the top of the stairs. As the static crackled, the scene before him shifted once more.
The corridor was suddenly empty and silent, with no sign of the lion or the corpse.
But before long, the scene in front of him changed back again, and Ji Nansheng’s pupils contracted.
The lion had appeared right in front of him at some point. Its massive jaws were wide open, the sharp teeth still dripping with pieces of flesh.
Ji Nansheng subconsciously raised his arm, and the lion bit down hard on it, its teeth piercing through his wrist.
Thankfully, there was no pain. Ji Nansheng only felt a strange pressure inside his wrist, but nothing else.
“Ahem.” Just as it seemed Ji Nansheng was about to be devoured, a low cough sounded from behind him.
The lion, which had been on the attack, instantly became as obedient as a dog, letting out two whimpers before lying down in the corner submissively.
Ji Nansheng, having narrowly escaped death, looked at Dijia gratefully. “Thank you.”
Dijia wore his usual casual expression, as if all the danger was as trivial as spilling water. “No problem.”
Ji Nansheng glanced at the lion cowering in the corner and then at his own blood-soaked arm, feeling a wave of lingering fear wash over him.
In his mind, the system’s red warning lights kept flashing.
[Warning: Player’s arm is injured. Please use a healing card as soon as possible.]
It seemed this ship had two different scenes—one was the luxurious Dream Star, and the other was the wrecked Dream Star.
The luxurious Dream Star may be an illusion, but the attacks in this scene were all too real.
Dijia pointed toward a room on the fourth floor. “You should head back. I’m going back as well.”
Ji Nansheng thanked him again, but couldn’t help asking, “Where are you going?”
‘Was there another player on the fourth floor?’
Dijia stared at Ji Nansheng, signaling with his gaze that he should return to his room. “I’m going back where I belong.”
Where was that? Of course, back to his wife’s bed.
Ji Nansheng’s Adam’s apple rolled and he swallowed his desire to investigate above the third floor. He returned to the room and locked the door behind him.
The lion didn’t eat the dead. Glasses’s corpse was still buried neatly under the blanket.
Ji Nansheng used a healing card on himself and watched as the wound completely healed. Then, without delay, he summoned the system. [I want to initiate a time jump.]
[Ding! This time period allows for a time jump. Please confirm whether the player wishes to proceed.]
[Yes/No]
In the next second, the scene in front of Ji Nansheng changed rapidly.
Outside the now quiet corridor, he could hear footsteps and voices.
Ji Nansheng glanced at the game’s time counter and saw the countdown had dropped from 47 hours to 40.
He looked back. The blanket was crumpled on the floor, and Glasses’ corpse had disappeared.
