《Death Rules》


 Class Death Rules Part.1

    Classroom Death Rules


    Classroom Rules:


    Remember, there are only thirteen girls in the class.


    A doll in a red dress might appear in your locker, but remember, the doll does not smile. If you see it smiling, report immediately to the homeroom teacher.


    The school bell signals the start of class, and everyone must be seated before it stops.


    Evening study hall ends at 10 PM, and no one is allowed to leave early.


    Finally, trust no one''s words.


    I was placed in Class 25 of sophomore year. Unlike other classes in the newly built teaching wing, ours was in the oldest part of the Gothic-style school building. The first day, I saw the class rules written in red ink next to the chalkboard, surrounded by what looked like bloody handprints, chilling me to the bone.


    Suddenly, my phone beeped with a new message. I''d been added to a group chat named "United Class 25." The group admin, a girl named Nora, I didn''t recognize, had a profile picture of a doll in a red dress. She wrote: "It''s been a while, everyone. I''m Nora. Remember the class rules. Ignoring them could be deadly. You can ask me anything here, but I''ll only answer ''yes'' or ''no.'' The game starts in three minutes."


    The chat quieted for a second, then erupted.


    "Who is this? There''s a limit to jokes!"


    "These rules are ridiculous."


    "Life-threatening? Who''d believe that?"


    ¡­


    As the bell for class rang, the chat fell silent. Instead of a traditional bell, a nursery rhyme played: "The little girl with her doll, walking to the garden to see the blossoms, crying for her mother¡­" Its eerie tone echoed through the room, sending shivers down our spines.


    "The bell''s about to end! To your seats, now!"


    Someone yelled amid the confusion. Scrambling, we all found our seats. Today had been unnaturally weird.


    Each seat had a name tag. I found mine and sat just as the rhyme stopped.


    A boy named Alex stood in the middle of the classroom, seatless. Everyone eyed him nervously, waiting. Nothing happened. Alex smirked: "Guys, it''s just Nora''s trick. Don''t fall for it. See, I''m fine."


    Relieved but annoyed at being fooled, we dismissed it. But Nora didn''t respond to the flurry of messages. Near class end, Alex suddenly ran out, clutching his stomach. I stopped him, "Class isn''t over. Where are you going?"


    "To the restroom," he answered, rushing away.


    The loudspeaker announced a drill after class. We met our teacher, a kind-looking middle-aged woman, but her eyes were filled with anxiety. She kept emphasizing the rules. Her earnestness gave me an ominous feeling.


    On my way to the restroom, I accidentally entered the boys'' room. What I saw made me stagger back in horror. Blood and a mutilated body in the janitor''s sink. The upper body was shoved into the drain, face unrecognizable. The creepy rhyme started again. I remembered the rule and ran back to class, followed by others. But when the rhyme ended, Emily, a delicate-looking girl, wasn''t back yet.


    "Didn''t Alex return?"


    We looked around; Alex and his desk were gone...


    We gasped. The corpse in the restroom was undoubted. Emily realized too, turned pale, and sat down, crying, "I don''t want to die. We should call the police." But our phones had no signal. Someone must have activated a signal jammer.


    I noticed cameras in every corner, watching our every move.


    Emily stood up, resolute, "I won''t die here!" She ran out, trying to leave the school. Today''s events were surreal, our class was the only one outside during the drill. It felt like we were the only ones in the whole school. But Alex''s death made us hesitate.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Emily didn''t return by class end. At lunch, we were ushered to the cafeteria. Each meal had a name tag, and no one else was there. The empty cafeteria was deeply unsettling.


    After lunch, our teacher appeared: "You may freely move in the building now, but remember, do not leave and follow the rules." But entering the building, we smelled something strange. "Do you smell that?" I asked a girl beside me.


    Before she could answer, something dripped on her head. "Is there a leak?" I thought until I saw her face, pale with shock. "That''s... blood on you."


    She screamed, touching her bloodied hand.


    Looking up, we saw a girl tied up, kneeling in penance, dead and covered in blood. It was Emily, her face twisted in terror.


    Then, Tom, another classmate, collapsed, pointing at Emily, "Alex is dead, Emily too. She''s back for revenge..."


    "Her? What does that mean?" Tom had barely finished speaking when several boys visibly paled, and a girl burst into tears. It was clear they knew something. With two people already dead, who would be next? A chilling silence enveloped the hall, as if an unseen force was controlling our fate.


    I had to remain calm. Only with a cool head could there be a chance of survival. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails broke the skin, bringing my mind back to focus. "Let''s all return to the classroom. As for the ''her'' Tom mentioned, I hope you can tell us the truth. If we don''t catch the killer, we''re all in danger!" I gave a cold glance to the students whose faces had turned ghostly white.


    Back in the classroom, we learned the truth from Tom about what happened three years ago. Tom, Alex, Emily, and Nora were classmates. Emily was the class beauty, confident and charming, while Nora was the exact opposite, introverted and isolated, her face marked by a large birthmark.


    Emily, with her friendly nature, was Nora''s desk mate and often included her in activities. They soon became best friends. However, things changed when a new, handsome student arrived. Both Emily and Nora developed feelings for him, but he was interested in Emily. Nora, out of jealousy, fell out with Emily.


    After Emily''s death, Nora went mad, believing Emily had caused the death of the boy she loved. She began to take revenge on Emily, even threatening her.


    Tom, Alex, and a few other boys, who were close to Emily, tried to defend her by scaring Nora off. But in a scuffle, Nora fell and scarred her face. After that incident, Nora disappeared.


    "We didn''t mean to push her," Tom said, his voice raspy with fear. "She started bullying Emily. We just wanted to scare her."


    The others associated with Nora nodded in agreement.


    I frowned, deep in thought. According to them, Nora might have returned after three years for revenge. But something felt off about their story.


    "It''s okay. If Nora really is the killer, she can''t do anything in front of so many of us. Both Alex and Emily were alone when they were killed. If we stick together for the rest of the time, we should be safe," I said calmly.


    "Let''s count everyone now, to make sure no one goes missing."


    But after counting, I realized there were eight boys and... thirteen girls.


    The class rule was clear:


    Remember, there are only thirteen girls in the class.


    With Emily dead, there should only be twelve girls left in the classroom. So who was the extra person?


    Almost everyone thought the same thing. The extra person must be Nora, who had somehow infiltrated our group and was watching us.


    I scanned the other girls cautiously, looking for any sign of Nora.


    Suddenly, Tom stood up. "The killer is definitely among you. If the killer dies, we all live," he said with a voice that sounded like it came from hell.


    Our eyes met. His gaze was cold and serpent-like, slowly moving across my face.


    A cold sweat broke out on my back. My intuition sensed danger.


    Tom''s words made my heart skip a beat. Among the thirteen of us, one had to be the killer. Finding the real culprit would mean safety for all. But what if we couldn''t find the killer?


    If all thirteen of us died, then they would be safe...


    The atmosphere became incredibly tense.


    According to Tom and the others, Nora was supposed to be a gloomy girl with a large birthmark on her face. But none of the thirteen girls had such a mark.


    The clue ended there.


    Time passed slowly as I watched everyone from a corner, thinking.


    Then I remembered Nora''s words in the group chat. She had said we could ask her anything, though she would only answer ''yes'' or ''no.''


    I quickly checked my phone and surprisingly, it had a signal again.


    Hesitating, I thought of calling the police, but before I could, a girl named Lila suddenly collapsed, foaming at the mouth. The unfinished emergency call was still on my screen.


    I gasped in shock. I was almost the next victim.


    Clutching my phone, a wave of unprecedented panic swept over me. Our phones were being monitored. Whoever tried to call for help would end up like Lila.


    We all stayed silent, our eyes expressing various emotions, but we unanimously put down our phones.


    But how did Lila die? Poisoned?


    Then, I remembered the boxed lunches we had at noon. A shiver ran down my spine.


    The loudspeaker suddenly came to life...


    "Please dispose of irrelevant personnel in the abandoned classroom on the first floor. Remember to strictly follow the classroom rules," a cold, mechanical voice announced.


    Irrelevant personnel?


    Everyone hesitated, then turned their attention to Lila''s body.


    "Who will do it?" a male voice asked from the crowd.


    There was a long silence. No one dared to be alone, fearing they might be the next victim.


    "Let''s go together, it''s safer with more people," I suggested.


    This proposal was met with approval from the others.


    The light on the first floor was flickering, casting eerie shadows.


    At the end of the hallway was the abandoned classroom mentioned in the announcement, with a set of class rules posted on the door.


    Do not share anything you see in the classroom with others.


    You can message Nora privately with any questions.


    Do not take anything from the classroom.


    Finally, remember to be kind and caring to each other.


    The last rule in particular gave me an ominous feeling. There was more to this abandoned classroom than met the eye.


    After the door was pushed open, we saw a messy, dust-filled room. Lila''s body was carelessly thrown into a corner.


    Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the door shut, and a shadow passed by, locking us inside.


    With no way out, we began to search the room.


    The desks were covered in dust, but strangely, each one still had our names on it. Even more bizarrely, the classroom also contained desks for Alex, Emily, and Nora!


    Their desks were the only ones that were spotless.


    What did this mean?


    I approached Nora''s desk and found a diary inside. The pages were yellowed with age.


    But as I opened the first page, I was stunned.


    November 24th:


    "They mocked me again today, dunked my head in the sink, tangled a mop in my hair."


    November 27th:


    "A new student arrived. He''s handsome. He greeted me, but I couldn''t speak back. They were watching me."


    December 11th:


    "The new student talked to me. His voice is so nice."


    December 12th:


    "They took me to the abandoned classroom. Punches landed on me, cigarette butts pressed into my hand. I couldn''t speak from the pain. The one pulling my hair was my best friend, Emily."


    She said, "People like me, like the birthmark on my face, should never be seen, don''t deserve to speak to the new student."


    ¡­


    The last page was scrawled hastily, stained with blood.


    December 28th:


    "I''m dead. They are all murderers¡­"


    A chill ran down my spine.


    If Nora was dead, then who was the killer?

 Class Death Rules Part.2

    "Why does Nora''s diary tell a completely different story from what Tom said?" This thought troubled me, and then I remembered the last rule of the classroom:


    Don''t trust anyone''s words.


    My heart sank. Tom was lying! But why? And why did the others, who knew the truth about Nora, agree with him? What were they hiding?


    As I pondered over the diary, a feeling grew within me: if I could unravel the truth about that year, I could catch the killer.


    Quietly, I pulled out my phone and messaged Nora.


    "Is Nora dead?"


    "Yes."


    "Is the diary truthful?"


    "Yes."


    My heart sank. My suspicions were confirmed.


    "Is the killer of Alex among us?"


    "No."


    I gasped, staring at those words in disbelief.


    I looked around. The expressions varied, but everyone seemed guarded.


    With Lila''s death, we were thirteen girls in the abandoned classroom. What was going on?


    The killer wasn''t among us?


    Nora''s chilly response sent shivers down my spine. Could there be more than one killer?


    Suddenly, I recalled the shadow that locked us in the classroom. It seemed vaguely familiar.


    I stared at the closed door, biting my lip, a bad premonition brewing within me.


    Determined, I questioned Nora about each girl in the classroom, desperately trying to identify the killer.


    But each inquiry was met with a "No."


    How could this be?


    I frowned deeply, staring at the chat. Could Nora be lying?


    That''s when a desk nearby was kicked violently.


    "Are we just going to wait to die?" Tom barked furiously.


    I coldly eyed him, "Did you lie about what happened to Nora?"


    Catching a flash of guilt in his eyes, my heart skipped a beat.


    "I didn''t lie. Why would you think that?" Tom retorted coldly.


    I remained silent, mindful of the first rule of the abandoned classroom.


    Something was off about Tom.


    I decided to confront him, "You said Nora came back for revenge and is among us. Then who was that shadow locking the door? What are you hiding?"


    Suddenly, all eyes turned to Tom.


    The people who had agreed with Tom before now looked nervous.


    I locked eyes with Tom, seeing a flash of malice in his gaze.


    Then, in a shocking turn, Tom pointed at me and accused, "Jiang Han, stop pretending. You''re the killer."


    I was dumbstruck, feeling a cold chill on my back. I wasn''t the killer.


    Someone from the crowd chimed in, "Right, it must be Jiang Han. She led us to this abandoned classroom. She''s in cahoots with whoever locked us in here!"


    Echoes of agreement filled the room.


    "Certainly, she found Alex''s body!"


    "And she was the first to speak up about Emily."


    I looked coldly at those speaking; they all knew the truth about Nora.


    They were afraid I had discovered something.


    How did Nora die?


    Their eyes held a mixture of coldness and malice.


    "Killing Jiang Han will save us all!" Tom shouted.


    I stared at him in disbelief, my voice trembling, "You want to kill me? Murder is a crime. You can''t escape it, and I''m not the killer."


    Tom smirked coldly, "If we don''t tell, who''ll know how you died? We''ll just say you were killed by whoever locked us in here."


    Panic-stricken, I looked at the others.


    Then someone spoke up, reminding of the classroom rule about being caring and kind.


    Everyone fell silent.


    Tom''s face turned dark with thought.


    I sighed in relief.


    No one would risk their life, knowing I wasn''t the killer.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Soon, everyone dispersed to search for clues.


    I could still feel eyes on me, as if waiting for a chance to end my life.


    I slumped into the seat with Lila''s name, overwhelmed by the day''s horrors.


    Leaning back, I suddenly noticed a newspaper in the desk. The headline was about a serial killer caught thirteen years ago...


    The date of the paper was three years ago ¨C the same day Nora died.


    The last victim was a girl surnamed Xu, who had fallen from a building. The killer was found admiring her corpse but denied killing her.


    I started piecing together the story.


    The date in Nora''s diary and the newspaper matched. Public opinion believed the serial killer murdered Nora, but why were Tom and the others so nervous when I asked about her?


    What if Nora was pushed?


    I glanced around the gloomy classroom. The day''s events and clues seemed to be leading me to the truth about Nora''s case.


    But why? The person behind this knew the truth. Why not go to the police?


    Chilling thoughts raced through my mind.


    She trapped us in this remote school building, not just for us to discover the truth, but to experience the fear Nora felt before her death.


    This was a game with rules leading to a terrifying end.


    Then, the bell rang, spreading the eerie nursery rhyme throughout the building.


    Lila''s pale body lay in the corner, hinting at our grim fate.


    "Quick, back to the classroom, the bell is ending!" I yelled.


    Sweat dripped from my forehead as fear spread. Death seemed imminent.


    In a panic, we all ran to the classroom, making it back just as the bell stopped.


    Everyone exhaled in relief.


    I collapsed onto the desk, reaching inside for a water bottle, but instead, I felt hair.


    Disbelieving, I pulled out the item from the desk.


    It was a doll in a red dress, smiling eerily...


    "The doll''s face was smiling, but it was smeared with a red birthmark drawn in pen, eerily similar to... Nora." Just then, Tom snatched the doll from my hands.


    "I told you Jiang Han is the killer. The classroom rule states the doll won''t smile, but look, the doll from Jiang Han''s desk is smiling. What does this imply? Jiang Han is the killer," Tom accused, holding the doll menacingly.


    A sense of dread filled me. The classroom rules didn¡¯t require us to be caring, which meant Tom could harm me.


    Out of options, I feigned composure: "Let''s find the homeroom teacher. The rule says if the doll smiles, report it immediately to the teacher."


    "You wouldn''t want to break the classroom rule, right?" I said, staring coldly at Tom.


    Our eyes met, each filled with determination and malice.


    Suddenly, the door opened. The homeroom teacher walked in, glanced at the doll in Tom''s hand, and her expression turned to horror. "Did you take this doll from your desk? It''s smiling. Why didn''t you report it to me immediately? You dared to break the classroom rule!"


    Tom, as if burned, quickly tossed the doll at me. "No... It''s not mine. It¡¯s Jiang Han¡¯s. She¡¯s the one who broke the rule."


    I pressed my lips tightly together, looking at the homeroom teacher. She gazed back at me, her tone grave, "The original doll had no smile. Now that it''s smiling, it means the person who took it is the killer..."


    Hearing this, everyone stepped back in fear, staring at me.


    I felt uneasy.


    But strangely, upon hearing this, Tom looked even more terrified, almost panicked.


    "Grab Jiang Han; she¡¯s the killer. If we catch her, we''ll all be safe," someone in the crowd shouted.


    They were about to seize me when suddenly the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness.


    A piercing scream echoed, followed by a heavy thud outside...


    Tom was dead.


    He had fallen from the fourth-floor window.


    The window was too high for an accidental fall; he was pushed.


    When Tom died, the lights in the classroom immediately came back on. This was no coincidence.


    But why would Tom die? He hadn''t broken any classroom rules. The one who had was me.


    Then it hit me!


    I remembered that during the bell, we all ran to this classroom, and Tom was the first to enter.


    Combining this with the teacher''s statement about the person with the doll breaking the rule, Tom''s reaction made sense.


    Perhaps the doll was originally in Tom''s desk. After finding it smiling, he got scared and didn''t report it, so he planted it in my desk to frame me.


    Tom had been breaking the rules all along.


    But what did the teacher mean by ''killer''?


    The doll''s smile indicated the person with it was the killer.


    But now Tom was dead. He couldn''t have been orchestrating everything.


    I stared out the window, feeling a strange familiarity.


    All these events seemed oddly discordant. Why did this feel so familiar?


    Then I realized.


    Nora''s death had been a fall from a building, just like Tom¡¯s.


    The teacher wasn''t referring to the person who killed Alex and Emily or manipulated these events.


    She meant the person who killed Nora.


    I glanced at the homeroom teacher, only to find her staring at me...


    Her gaze was icy, like looking at a dead person.


    My heart skipped a beat.


    Suddenly, the teacher pointed at me: "Jiang Han pushed Tom. I saw it with my own eyes. She is the killer."


    I realized then.


    The teacher who pushed Tom was trying to frame me. During the blackout, only the teacher and I were near Tom. And the shadow that locked us in the abandoned classroom, which felt familiar, must have been her.


    The homeroom teacher was the mastermind.


    "No, you''re the killer. You''re seeking revenge for Nora. What¡¯s your relation to her? What really happened back then?" I confronted her coldly.


    A tense standoff ensued, with everyone¡¯s eyes shifting between us, on high alert.


    I shouted, "Did you forget we were locked in the abandoned classroom? I was with you. How could I be the killer? All the events that happened today, in this building, it¡¯s only us and the homeroom teacher. Who else could have locked us in the classroom? Isn¡¯t it obvious?"


    Everyone turned to look at the homeroom teacher, realization dawning on their faces.


    The teacher just sneered, "Jiang Han, your acting is convincing. I know you have an accomplice. Remember, every victim was discovered by you. Isn¡¯t that too coincidental?"


    Someone in the crowd suggested, "Let''s tie them both up and call the police. The realization hit me like a cold wave. Everything made sense now.


    "No, we can''t just tie us up. There¡¯s another culprit among us. If we don''t find them, we''re all in danger."


    Without waiting for a reaction, I seized the moment to dash out.


    I had to catch the other killer. As I ran, I called the police, but it would take them fifteen minutes to arrive.


    Sweat trickled down my forehead. If I could just survive these fifteen minutes, I might make it.


    Reaching the abandoned classroom, I confronted the familiar figure in front of me. "Jiang Lila, so it was you all along."


    Jiang Lila, presumed dead by everyone, stood before me, her expression icy.


    "How did you know it was me?" she asked flatly, devoid of emotion.


    "Because the cause of death didn''t match."


    The events of the day had seemed strange and familiar, but I couldn''t pinpoint the anomaly until someone mentioned calling the police. It clicked then.


    Jiang Lila''s supposed death was staged. She feigned death to prevent us from calling the police. Though we were monitored, it was hard to constantly watch, and controlling the signal jammer wasn''t foolproof. She had orchestrated her ''death'' to instill in us the belief that calling the police was fatal.


    In the midst of the chaos and fear, with our adolescent minds, we never questioned the strangeness of it all.


    Everyone subconsciously believed calling the police was a death sentence, as was breaking the classroom rules.


    If not for finding Nora''s diary and Tom''s subsequent death, I might not have realized.


    The pattern of the deaths mirrored Nora''s experiences as described in her diary: bullying, betrayal, and ultimately a fall from a height.


    But Jiang Lila¡¯s ¡®death¡¯ was unrelated to Nora''s experiences.


    "Indeed, you''re sharp," Jiang Lila said with a cold laugh.


    "Why did you do this? If you knew who killed Nora, why not go to the police?"


    Her laughter turned manic. "Go to the police? Without evidence, and considering their age..."


    "But my sister was dead. How could I just let it go?"


    In the ensuing moments, Jiang Lila revealed the events of the past.


    Jiang Lila and Nora were twins, yet they were as different as day and night. Lila was fair and beautiful, the epitome of innocence, while Nora suffered from a facial birthmark and a sallow complexion, often being mocked as a clown. Their personalities were also starkly opposite: Lila was outgoing and smart, excelling in her studies, whereas Nora was introverted and struggled with her self-esteem and mediocre grades.


    Lila was the elder sister, and Nora the younger. Their parents divorced when they were in primary school. Each parent took one child, and Lila changed her surname to match her mother¡¯s, who was actually the homeroom teacher in their story.


    Nora lived with their alcoholic father, who verbally and physically abused her, always criticizing her appearance and considering her a burden. Despite this, he refused to let Nora live with their mother, only keeping her for the child support payments.


    Despite the divorce, Lila and Nora remained close, with Lila frequently visiting. However, their meetings dwindled during junior high.


    Lila initially thought Nora was just busy with studies, until that fateful day - December 28, 2016, Nora''s death day. They had planned to celebrate their birthdays together at their secret hideout, an abandoned building in the old district. They used to sit on the rooftop, stargazing and dreaming of the future. Nora had aspirations of getting plastic surgery, yearning to be ordinary.


    However, that birthday wish was buried with her that rainy night. Lila, worried about Nora, went to their hideout only to witness a group of people, including Tom, surrounding and shoving a girl on the rooftop, accompanied by mocking and insults. A flash of lightning revealed the horrifying truth - the girl was Nora, and she was pushed off the rooftop by Tom.


    Lila rushed to the scene, but Tom and the others had fled, and the heavy rain washed away any traces of evidence. The abandoned building had no surveillance, leaving no evidence but Nora¡¯s lifeless body.


    Lila was torn between wanting the culprits caught and punished and wishing they escaped justice so she could avenge Nora herself. While collecting Nora¡¯s body, they found her diary at her residence, revealing the bullying she endured for an entire year.


    She lived in despair and pain, unwilling to tell Lila for fear of causing her trouble. Nora hoped for relief each sunset, believing endurance would see her through. But after a harsh winter, Nora was gone from this world.


    Standing in the abandoned classroom, watching Lila immersed in grief, I was at a loss for words.


    "The people who bullied Nora are dead, and there¡¯s no need for more violence. Nora had nothing to do with us."


    Lila smirked meaningfully, "True, but do you think you can escape?"


    I was puzzled.


    Then, the police arrived, and Lila was apprehended. As she was led away, she gave me a triumphant look, chilling me to the bone.


    "Officer, there''s another culprit in the high school second-year classroom on the fourth floor," I said urgently, grabbing the officer''s sleeve.


    As we approached the classroom, my unease grew, especially recalling Lila''s last smile.


    Suddenly, the smell of smoke filled the air. The classroom was on fire, and the door was locked from inside.


    I kicked at the door, hearing cries from within: "We didn''t mean to kill your daughter. It was just a prank gone wrong. It was Tom who pushed her, not us. Please, let us go."


    "We didn''t mean to bully her..."


    "We''re sorry..."


    The door was finally broken open, revealing the teacher, who coldly said, "How does it feel to burn? That pain is what my daughter felt when you burned her with cigarettes."


    The fire was extinguished quickly, but the teacher and several students were hospitalized for carbon monoxide inhalation. The students'' physical injuries would heal, but the scars would remain. The teacher, diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer, worsened by the smoke inhalation, didn''t survive.


    Lila was sentenced to life imprisonment for premeditated murder.


    A year later, after my high school exams, I visited Lila in prison. She expressed regret for inviting Nora to the hideout that day, believing it led to the subsequent tragedy. I remained silent, unable to condone Lila''s actions, yet aware that the true wrongdoers were the bullies...

 Devils Game Part.1

    My mother was critically ill, desperately needing a substantial amount of money for treatment.


    At my wit''s end, my cousin found me, mysteriously saying, "Sis, have you heard of an otome game? The first person to clear it gets a three-million-dollar prize!"


    Later, I discovered this otome game, notorious for its extreme difficulty, had been unsolved for three years.


    The men to be conquered in the game¡ªa group of serial killers.


    The WeChat notification tone rang repeatedly.


    "Yvonne, is your fever down?"


    "I''ve bought porridge and medicine, help me open the door later."


    "I''ll be there in about ten minutes."


    The entire chat box was black and white, very odd.


    It looked like... some kind of foundation-laying ceremony.


    I was startled by my sudden thought.


    Then, on my phone screen.


    "Darling in the Palm."


    "Players need to conquer three NPCs."


    "Be aware, before conquering them, NPCs will always harbor murderous intentions towards the player."


    "Players must strive to survive throughout the conquest."


    The font was creepy and twisted.


    Read and burn after reading.


    I realized only later, drenched in a cold sweat.


    When my cousin found me, she only mentioned it was a romance-focused otome game.


    But now, this phone was telling me.


    The NPCs I need to conquer would rather kill me.


    "Yvonne, I''m here."


    "Come open the door."


    "Why no reply after reading?"


    Damn it!


    What kind of ghostly WeChat function is this?


    I got up, moved cautiously to the door, and peered through the peephole.


    Cedric stood at the door, holding porridge and medicine, eyes fixated on the chat box on his phone screen and mine.


    In his other hand.


    A slender, shining wire.


    The cold light flashed, just before his next message.


    I quickly muted my phone.


    "Sorry, my fever''s really bad."


    "Just leave the things at the door, I''ll get them later when I feel better."


    Outside, he pondered for a moment.


    Opened a forum and typed a few words.


    "Feverish Doll."


    Several photos suddenly popped up.


    Familiar.


    The girl in the leading photo was stunningly beautiful but looked painfully distressed.


    Full of morbidity.


    I remembered her.


    Before entering the game, I had seen this girl while searching online for tips to clear the game.


    She was a famous otome game player with over a million Weibo followers.


    However, she suddenly stopped updating three years ago.


    Why would her photos appear in the game?


    "Heh."


    Through the thin door, Cedric chuckled lightly.


    "A sick rabbit, I don''t like."


    Only after he left did my heart slightly settle down.


    No wonder no one had cleared it in three years.


    You''re thinking about falling in love and being adored, but these men are thinking about how to turn you into a doll.


    How can I play this?


    The three million dollars are beyond my reach.


    I quickly returned to bed, trying the method my cousin told me to exit the game.


    But after several attempts, nothing happened.


    The WeChat interface on the phone was still black and white.


    Why did my cousin lie to me?


    Just then, the phone beeped again.


    "Mr. Grayson: Are you sick?"


    "Mr. Grayson: I saw your leave request, need help?"


    "Mr. Grayson: If you need me, just say the word, I''m here."


    I replied: "I''m much better now, thanks for your concern."


    The "typing" indicator appeared and then vanished.


    I quickly calmed down.


    I must gather information quickly and find a way to clear the game.


    The only thing I had was this phone.


    I read through all the chat records.


    I found a man named "Sebastian."


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    His chat box was the only one not in black and white.


    Sebastian, 188 cm tall, with a sunny and handsome appearance, waved at me from afar.


    Just like a large, friendly golden retriever.


    The moment I saw him.


    I understood why his chat box wasn''t black and white.


    The conquest was already complete.


    "Sister, let''s go, I''ll take you to eat."


    I was somewhat uncomfortable with Sebastian''s enthusiasm.


    But his 100% conquest progress was my only safe breakthrough.


    "Sister, don''t you like it?"


    Sebastian looked downcast, his eyes drooping sadly: "I ordered specially based on your preferences."


    He was visibly upset: "Is it because you''re eating


    with me that you can''t eat?"


    I was lost in thought and also tense from just coming in, not hungry at all.


    But looking into Sebastian''s eyes, I softened.


    However, before I could speak to comfort him.


    A cold mechanical voice sounded.


    "Affection level decreased by 10%."


    "Conquest progress 90%."


    Seeing my shocked face, Sebastian repeated sadly, "Is it because you''re eating with me that you can''t eat?"


    I shook my head vigorously: "No, it''s not that. I''m just so moved, I didn''t expect you to remember my preferences."


    After speaking, I began eating the mountain of meat in my bowl until I was almost nauseous.


    Finally, Sebastian smiled.


    At the same time.


    "Affection level increased by 10%."


    "Conquest progress 100%."


    If the affection level can decrease, then isn''t this game impossible to clear?


    I could tell Sebastian was love-obsessed.


    Love-obsessed and a bit twisted.


    If he discovers me conquering other men...


    I felt like I was already dead.


    Sebastian carefully wrapped a scarf around me, creating a somewhat ambiguous atmosphere. His warm fingers accidentally touched my cheek, causing me to stiffen.


    "Thank you."


    Sebastian smiled, "What are you thinking about, Sister? You seem so distracted."


    I shook my head, looking into his eyes, "Have you liked many girls?"


    Pretending to be jealous, I added, "You''re too skilled at this."


    He lightly grazed my nose.


    Sebastian said indulgently, "Don''t worry, a worthy ex should be like they''re dead. Trust me, I can handle it."


    "You''ll be the only one from now on."


    If it weren''t for the sound of the affection level dropping by 5% in my ears.


    I might have believed him.


    "It''s almost seven, let me take you home."


    I let Sebastian take my hand, he said, "It''s getting dark."


    I asked, "What happens when it gets dark?"


    He paused, "It''s not safe."


    In the normal world, when a man takes a woman home, it''s often to create a chance to be alone.


    Especially when he has intentions.


    Adults, alone at night, it''s self-explanatory.


    But this is not the normal world.


    Sebastian took me to my doorstep.


    I hesitated, should I invite him in for a while?


    If he suggests coming in, and I refuse, will my affection level drop even more?


    "What''s this?"


    Sebastian looked down, noticing a bag at the door.


    It was the porridge and medicine Cedric brought in the afternoon.


    I had forgotten it.


    "Fever, someone else brought it, I was in a rush to find you and forgot."


    Sebastian paused, then smiled.


    The recently lost 5% affection level instantly came back.


    "Sister, don''t go out tonight."


    "And don''t let any men into your house," he said meaningfully, pointing to the porridge on the ground, "You did well."


    My heart pounded, as if something flashed in my mind.


    "What do you mean?" I asked eagerly, "What happens if I go out at night or let a man in?"


    Sebastian smiled and walked away.


    I grabbed his hand.


    Sebastian turned back, "It''s not safe."


    I broke into a cold sweat in an instant.


    This game''s NPCs are too intelligent.


    Everything today, the fluctuating affection level, even though it ended up at 100%, Sebastian''s smile seemed intentional.


    "Are you playing with me?"


    In this moment, my anger was uncontrollable.


    Sebastian raised an eyebrow, "Don''t be angry, Sister. You''re really interesting and smart. I look forward to spending time with you. We have many days ahead."


    I sat alone on the bed.


    Constantly replaying the day''s events in my mind.


    From Sebastian''s words, he doesn


    ''t seem like the NPC described in the game, meant to be conquered.


    He rather seemed like a player in a killing game.


    And me, the prey to be hunted.


    So even if the NPCs'' affection levels are full, they can still decrease.


    Before being conquered, they maintain a desire to kill.


    This otome game is essentially a murder game.


    Based on Cedric''s behavior this morning, they seem to be bound too.


    When Mr. Grayson hinted he could help, he also wanted to come to my house.


    Be home before dark.


    Don''t let men into the house.


    So far, these appear to be the safe options.


    Sebastian helps me, aside from his twisted teasing.


    It also shows they are in competition.


    Competition¡ªfor my life.


    The next day at work.


    Passing by the breakfast shop, I bought an extra meal.


    The boss took the meal, a hint of surprise in his eyes.


    "Affection level increased by 5%."


    "Conquest progress 50%."


    As expected.


    In this ghostly world disguised as an otome game, as long as I show kindness to these NPCs, their affection levels rise.


    So why wait?


    I start showering care everywhere, spouting cheesy lines.


    Frenziedly boosting affection levels to 80%.


    Finally, the boss calls a halt.


    His handsome, mature face breaks into a sophisticated smile.


    But his eyes darken as he stares at me: "Yvonne, didn''t you say you wanted to see a movie the other day? I''ve bought tickets for us after work."


    I shiver, nearly spilling the water on the documents in front of me.


    It''s already six when we get off work.


    A movie lasts at least an hour and a half.


    If I agree, I definitely won''t be home before dark.


    Just as I''m about to refuse.


    A mysterious text message arrives on my phone.


    "Agree to it."


    In the cinema.


    Me, Mr. Grayson, Cedric, and Sebastian.


    We faced each other in confusion.


    This was the safest method I could think of.


    Cedric, with a peculiar expression, remarked, "Yvonne, I left surgery to find you, why did you bring strangers?"


    Both Mr. Grayson and Sebastian looked at me.


    As if admitting the term ''outsider'' would spiral things out of control.


    Sweating, I introduced, "Cedric, this is Mr. Grayson, and this is Sebastian."


    "They''re friends."


    My voice was soft and ambiguous, hinting, "I haven''t had the chance to confess yet."


    With that, the inherent romantic nature of the otome game''s male characters was instantly activated.


    The three men all indulged in their own assumptions.


    The atmosphere improved significantly.


    However, during the movie.


    The popcorn from Cedric.


    The cola bought by Mr. Grayson.


    The ice cream held by Sebastian.


    I didn''t dare touch any of it.


    Before the movie started, I secretly saw them tampering with the food.


    Under the faint moonlight, the dense night intensified my unease.


    Sandwiched between three men, I tried to reduce my presence, but the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.


    Cedric broke the silence first, "Yvonne, are you hungry?"


    Dinner now?


    This guy obviously had ulterior motives. I turned to Sebastian for help, as he was the one who told me to be home before dark. So far, he seemed to be my only ally.


    Sebastian glanced at Cedric with a hint of mockery, "The popcorn you just bought, she didn''t eat a bite, did she? How can she be hungry?"


    Cedric retorted, "Your ice cream wasn''t any better."


    A chill ran down my spine ¨C speaking of the devil.


    Sure enough, the next second, their gazes locked onto me, both simultaneously asking, "Is it because the popcorn/ice cream was bought by me, that''s why you didn''t eat it?"


    A shiver went up my spine as both their affection levels plummeted by ten points.


    Caught in a difficult position, I lowered my head, pretending to wipe tears with the back of my hand.


    When I looked up again, my eyes were red, pitiable.


    "In your eyes, am I someone who wastes others'' feelings? I thought you understood me. I''m really upset. If that''s the case, why do you even want to be friends with me?"


    Saying this, I trembled slightly, hands covering my face, ready to run away.


    But a hand enveloped me, forcing me to stay.


    "Mr. Grayson..." I was at a loss for words.


    "Affection level increased by 5%."


    "Conquest progress 85%."


    Following the system notification, Mr. Grayson''s handsome face turned slightly red, his gaze unnaturally shifting away.


    "Yvonne, don''t be sad for irrelevant people."


    Geez, that single sentence caused two ''affection level decreased by 5%'' notifications.


    I brought the three men back home.


    The reason being, while Cedric and Sebastian were jealous over the snacks they prepared for me, Mr. Grayson, unusually, interjected, "Yvonne, I


    ''m hungry."


    And he specifically asked for the noodles I cooked.


    Wanting to feel the taste of home.


    My heart was a mix of emotions as I scooped noodles into three bowls adorned with shrimp, seaweed, and green onions, topped with a drizzle of sesame oil. I picked up two bowls to take out.


    My hand touched the bowl, then retracted.


    The order of serving was a significant issue, a minefield warning.


    After a moment''s thought, I called out.


    "It''s ready, come and get it yourselves."


    The three men joyfully held their bowls of noodles, harmoniously united.


    I was quite relieved, each of us occupying a side of the table. Perhaps my expectation was too evident, Mr. Grayson was about to slurp a mouthful but then put down his chopsticks, "Why aren''t you eating?"


    Of course, how could I eat something potentially drugged?


    My heart pounded like a drum, fearing they''d see through me, I feigned calm, "I''m on a diet."


    He pushed the bowl towards me, "Silly girl, you must have forgotten to cook for yourself, eat."


    "I... I''m not hungry."


    Mr. Grayson smiled confidently, "I don''t care what you think, I decide."


    A foreboding feeling suddenly surged within me.


    Next, the other two bowls were pushed towards me as well.


    Cedric and Sebastian smiled, "jpg."


    My face tightened, "Is it because I cooked it, that''s why you aren''t eating?"


    "Is it because you think it''s not tasty, that''s why you aren''t eating?"


    "I get it! It''s because you look down on me, that''s why."


    I feigned even more distress.

 Devils Game Part.2

    Turning their own weapons against them.


    Now it was their turn to be dumbfounded.


    I watched the three empty bowls with satisfaction, glancing at my phone screen.


    As their eyes became unfocused and their bodies slumped over the table, I fished out three keys and walked out of the house.


    A night visit to the handsome men''s sanctuaries, the thought itself was thrilling.


    I decided to first visit Sebastian''s house, seemingly the least dangerous.


    Sebastian''s house was filled with a cold, minimalist vibe, classic gray, white, and black colors, seemingly no different from a normal person''s.


    The only oddity was the row of dolls on the sofa.


    Colorful and neatly seated, they were exquisitely crafted.


    Most extravagant were the high-end makeup products on the small table next to the sofa, with twenty-six lipsticks alone.


    A sunny, athletic, handsome young man harboring a girlish heart secretly.


    I picked up the only lipstick without a cap, its stick twisted out halfway, seemingly left in a hurry by its owner. I applied it on my hand; the color perfectly matched the doll''s lips on the sofa.


    Putting down the lipstick, I opened the wardrobe in Sebastian''s bedroom, initially to confirm if he really was into cross-dressing.


    Inside the wardrobe were rows of people!


    No, not living people.


    I trembled, collapsing to the ground in fear, barely managing to stand up again. I forced myself to look at the row of girls dressed in Lolita gowns.


    Eyes wide open in horror.


    Eyes vacant, expressions numb.


    Brows slightly furrowed in fear and pleading.


    Eyes closed, lashes drooping in utter tranquility.


    They were lifelike, each with a unique expression, skin soft yet cold to the touch. Among them, I recognized one person, the otome game player who had stopped updating three years ago.


    Despite my preparedness, I was still shaken.


    Beyond shock, I was enveloped


    in a massive wave of sorrow and anger, especially after seeing the painful expressions on her face. My feelings towards Sebastian turned into...


    Murderous intent.


    This was too strange.


    I closed the wardrobe, turned, and left the place.


    Dark clouds obscured the moon, deepening the night into an impenetrable blackness, making it hard to see the road.


    Guided by the faint light of my phone''s flashlight, I found my way to Cedric''s house.


    Upon entering, I was met with an eerie sensation of being watched.


    Such a paradox, a doctor in a white coat, a healer and a savior.


    Starting from the entrance, my gaze fell upon shelves filled with glass jars.


    Within the transparent liquid were pairs of naked eyeballs, each black pupil staring unerringly towards the door, as if alerted by the sound of my entrance.


    I controlled my breathing, which grew heavier and harder to suppress.


    Cedric clearly had a penchant for collecting eyeballs.


    But why did he search for "Feverish Doll" that day at the door?


    My head swam, feeling dizzy.


    Snapping back to reality, I rushed outside, still needing to visit Mr. Grayson''s house. I had an intuition that once I completed my exploration, I would find a way to break through.


    But time was running out.


    The drug''s effects wouldn''t last much longer.


    This was my only chance.


    Failure meant facing everything I had just witnessed.


    Mr. Grayson''s garden villa wasn''t far from here.


    But it was built over water, accessible only by a narrow bridge with low railings.


    Thick fog obscured the path, narrowing my field of vision even more.


    I could only grope my way forward, every second intensifying my inner turmoil, time running out.


    Finally, at the end of the narrow bridge, I breathed a sigh of relief.


    Turning the key, the door opened, and I found myself face to face with the three men.


    Escape!


    I instinctively turned to run, but before my legs could move, a sharp pain shot through my neck.


    I don''t know how long passed.


    When I opened my eyes.


    Sebastian entered, carrying two Lolita dresses, a smile brimming on his face: "I picked these especially for you. What do you think? Aren''t they glamorous?"


    They had me tied to a chair, hands bound behind my back. I ignored him, pulling at my restraints.


    A mocking laugh echoed from a corner, as if ridiculing my vain hopes.


    Mr. Grayson sat there, organizing nine glass jars in front of him.


    "Stop struggling."


    "Even if you get free, what chance do you have against the three of us?"


    I was done for.


    A sense of powerlessness overwhelmed me, fear filling my eyes as I pondered the impending doom.


    Cedric scolded lightly, "Enough, why scare her? We agreed these eyes are


    mine. You''ve made her cry; they won''t be as beautiful later."


    Mr. Grayson placed the jars on a shelf behind him, "What''s the rush?"


    Trembling, I asked, "Aren''t you guys in competition with each other?"


    Cedric glanced at me, speaking with rare interest, "Oh, you''ve caught on? But who told you we''re in competition? I''m curious, how did you know I wanted your eyes?"


    He moved closer, forcing me to look into his eyes, "These eyes are so beautiful, I can''t wait to add them to my collection."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Shouldn''t beautiful things be protected?" I asked with tearful eyes, still clinging to a sliver of hope.


    Cedric laughed as if he heard a joke.


    "You''re too adorable."


    He pulled out a handkerchief, gently wiping the tears from my face.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll take good care of these unique and beautiful eyes in a glass jar."


    Sebastian, losing patience, pushed Cedric aside, shielding me with his broad back. I felt a bit calmer, my heart faintly hoping for him.


    "Cedric, didn''t you forget? She''s mine for the day."


    I froze in shock.


    Cedric tucked the handkerchief into his pocket, smiling, "Fine, fop. When you''re done playing dress-up, I''ll come back."


    Left alone in the room with Sebastian.


    He casually examined the two gorgeous Lolita dresses, glancing at my distraught form.


    "Don''t you like these dresses?"


    I turned dumbly, facing him.


    Sebastian smiled, "It''s okay, if you don''t like them, I''ll find you better ones."


    "One by one, try them on for me."


    He untied the ropes, thrusting the dresses into my arms, his face filled with anticipation.


    My face burned red, hands clenched tightly, a hoarse voice escaping my throat, "Change here?"


    Sebastian nodded happily, showing no intention of turning away.


    Bracing myself, I stripped off my clothes and pants, thankfully the undergarments I wore were relatively conservative, reducing the humiliation.


    Slipping into the blood-red dress, I shivered, waiting for Sebastian''s next command.


    His eyes shone with admiration.


    "Do you like it?"


    I forced a smile, "Yes, I feel like it''s made for me."


    Sebastian took my hand, leading me out of the room.


    "Good, let''s stick with this one then. Honestly, I think you look beautiful in anything."


    My nervousness increased, palms sweating uncontrollably.


    Sebastian, holding my sweaty hand, seemed oblivious to it, excitedly leading me.


    "How does it look? Beautiful, right?"


    Eagerly, he sought to show off his masterpiece to Cedric and Mr. Grayson.


    Cedric stared intently at my eyes, "It is beautiful."


    Mr. Grayson, however, had a dark, resentful gaze, sending shivers down my spine.


    Sebastian scratched my palm.


    Turning to Mr. Grayson, he asked, "Do you have nails and a hammer?"


    I suddenly recalled the dolls in Sebastian''s wardrobe, their joints glinting with metal. He nailed their joints, so even after the bodies stiffened, they could still be manipulated.


    Sensing my fear, Sebastian looked back at me.


    "Don''t be scared,


    I''ll be gentle, it won''t hurt."


    To Mr. Grayson, he said, "Long nails would be best."


    The next moment, he gently asked me, "Is 1.5 inches okay?"


    Cedric suddenly interrupted, clearly displeased, "Sebastian, we agreed she''s yours for today, but you can''t go too far. Don''t forget, the last girl was all yours. This time it''s my turn with Mr. Grayson. If you damage her, I won''t let it go."


    Sebastian scoffed, "Don''t worry, I won''t damage her eyes."


    Cedric kicked over a stool nearby, muttering under his breath, "So annoying, I don''t want to wait anymore."


    Leaving a message, "I hope when I wake up, I can get what I want intact," he stormed out of the living room.


    Mr. Grayson glanced coolly at them, then swept his gaze over me from head to toe.


    "Leave me her lips, tongue, ears, and one little finger. As for the rest, you know what to do."


    Sebastian hummed in agreement, "Of course, I remember."


    Assured, Mr. Grayson tilted his head toward a cabinet, "There are hammers and nails of various sizes there, and a nail gun."


    My scalp tingled with dread, my eyes filled with pleading as I gripped Sebastian''s sleeve tightly, trying to stop him.


    Sebastian pried my fingers loose, "Be good, I''ll be back soon."


    I was shaking all over, feeling as if I were nailed to the spot, unable to move.


    I could only watch as Sebastian opened the cabinet and took out a nail gun, loading it with nails.


    Sebastian tilted his head slightly, winking at me.


    Before I could react, he pressed the nail gun against Mr. Grayson''s temple, pulling the trigger several times in quick succession. Mr. Grayson collapsed to the ground, blood trickling down from his temple, his eyes staring lifelessly at me.


    Sebastian then smothered his nose and mouth, ensuring he made no sound till his death.


    After doing this, he stood up and walked towards me.


    I retreated step by step.


    But he just brushed past me and knocked on Cedric''s door.


    Cedric yelled from inside, "What now?"


    Sebastian, lips slightly curled, reloaded the nail gun, "Nothing much, this woman couldn''t handle it, I only nailed her a few times before she gave up. Better come out and take her eyes before they lose their vitality."


    Footsteps hurried to the door.


    Cedric, ecstatic, emerged with a shiny glass jar in hand.


    Sebastian lifted his arm, pressing the nail gun to Cedric''s head.


    Cedric''s expression changed drastically, and before he could even speak, several nails were shot into his scalp with loud ''bangs''.


    His face was a picture of disbelief as he stiffly fell to the ground, gasping his last breaths.


    Sebastian, holding the gun, smiled as warmly as the first time I saw him, like a sunny golden retriever.


    I was petrified with fear.


    He extended a gentle hand towards me, "Now, it''s just the two of us."


    My eyes were blindfolded, and my right hand fell into a warm palm.


    Sebastian chuckled softly, leading me slowly forward.


    The sound of flowing water and the breeze brushing my limbs and body made every little movement frighten me to the bone.


    After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped, pressed my shoulders to make me sit, then leaned down to whisper, "Yvonne, wait for me."


    "And whatever you do, don''t take off the blindfold, or... well, you''ll regret it."


    His footsteps faded away, and I mustered the courage to pull off the blindfold. My gaze suddenly met the dolls beside me.


    I was actually inside Sebastian''s wardrobe!


    No wonder it was so cramped.


    Perhaps he was too confident, thinking I''d be too scared to do anything, so he didn''t bind me.


    Regret?


    I snorted, standing up and crawling out of the wardrobe.


    I found a fire axe under the bed.


    The game was just beginning.


    The moment Sebastian opened the door.


    I swung the fire axe down towards him.


    He seemed to have anticipated it, stepping back quickly.


    Our eyes met, his face wearing a mocking smile.


    I smiled too.


    As the spray descended.


    Sebastian''s eyes widened in disbelief, his face full of shock.


    As soon as I opened the wardrobe, I had noticed the assortment of tools for committing crimes in the corner, including various types of knockout drugs.


    I bent down, grabbing the hood of Sebastian''s sweatshirt.


    Dragging him into the bedroom like a dead dog.


    The bed first descended then rose, transforming into an operating table in just a few minutes.


    When Sebastian woke up, I was wearing a white coat, squinting and smiling gently.


    "Did you sleep well?"


    Sebastian, spread-eagled and locked down, his wrists and ankles wrapped in 2cm-wide steel rings, struggled fiercely, the operating table creaking loudly.


    I laughed, "Stop struggling, didn''t you design this? Even if you shed your skin, you can''t escape."


    He gave up struggling, his chest heaving dramatically, "What do you want to do?"


    Sunlight refracted dazzling colors through the liquid in the syringe.


    I pushed the plunger up, the liquid shooting out.


    Sebastian''s expression changed slightly, and I said, "Anesthetic. I didn''t really want to use it. What about you?"


    He pleaded, "Yvonne, can you let me go first? I know, you must share the same interests as me. How about this, we can do it together¡ª"


    "Together?" I raised an eyebrow, "How exactly? I don''t have such interests~"


    I leaned closer to his


    ear, teasingly whispering in a playful and mischievous tone, "I came specifically for you three."


    Unfortunately, the other two were too lucky.


    They died too quickly.


    Sebastian froze, "Who are you?"


    I moved lightly, turning to pick up a shiny piece of wire.


    "Don''t worry, I''ve done my homework already. Threading the wire through the nostrils and deep into the brain, stirring the brain matter, it preserves the most vivid expressions."


    "Your favorite, lifelike corpses, right?"


    "I won''t disappoint you."


    Pure terror appeared on Sebastian''s face; he shook his head wildly, his pleas for mercy incessant.


    "Oh, right."


    My eyes brightened, remembering something crucial.


    Sebastian stopped his cries, gasping for breath, his eyes fixed on me.


    I opened the other side of the wardrobe, pointing to a row of exquisite and beautiful Lolita dresses.


    "Junior, pick one."


    Sebastian''s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse as if a trapped animal gasping before its end.


    Seeing him like this, he was obviously not in the mood to choose.


    I picked up the wire again, slowly threading it into his nostril.


    This would take a lot of time.


    It might get a bit boring.


    Meanwhile, I decided to chat with him.


    Five years ago.


    In a tube building, two sisters who depended on each other for survival lived.


    One day, the younger sister, who had autism, met three men.


    Three men with the appearance of righteousness.


    The first man.


    Claimed to be a doll collector, luring naive girls with anime and using a warm and sunny facade to trap the girl at home to make her into a doll.


    The second man.


    Inhumanly obsessed with women, he had a near-crazy love yet extreme hatred for them. He dismembered and butchered every beautiful girl he found, always preparing nine glass jars for trophies.


    The third man.


    A well-mannered, life-saving doctor in public, but his room was filled with eyeballs. The reason? He lost his mother at a young age, and his first memory of her was her bright eyes.


    The younger sister met the first man, wearing the dress he picked for her, attending her first comic-con.


    There, she met many new friends, including the second man.


    The doll collector and the man with nine jars collaborated.


    The moment the doll was made, the collector''s desire reached its peak, satisfied with a sense of achievement.


    And the man with nine jars had an even more secretive secret.


    Severe necrophilia.


    He didn''t preserve the whole body, only keeping parts of his beloved girls.


    But with the doll collector around.


    All these were no longer problems.


    The younger sister felt something was


    off and secretly sought help from her sister.


    But her words were too vague, and her sister, busy with work, failed to understand the first cry for help.


    The frequent tenderness from the doll collector made the younger sister doubt her own suspicions.


    He said, "Maybe, it''s because of your autism."


    The younger sister turned to the third man.


    The eye-obsessed ¡ª a psychologist.


    The situation didn''t improve.


    Her mental state deteriorated, yet she dared not tell her sister again.


    The three men, in cahoots, threatened her from time to time, saying they would harm her sister if she didn''t obey.


    By the time her sister arrived, the younger one was already a vegetable.


    A moment later, and she would have been a lifelike doll.


    I smiled wryly, looking at Sebastian, whose eyes were rolling back.


    Knowing he couldn''t respond, I still kept talking, saying what I wanted to say.


    "I am that incompetent sister."


    "And also, a researcher at the Supernatural Biological Engineering Lab."


    "The three men in the story, I think you should know who they are by now."


    After rescuing my sister back then, I crazily sought revenge against those three men.


    When my superiors found out, they stopped me, earnestly persuading me to use the law against them.


    But I felt such punishment was too light.


    In the lab, I independently developed the otome game.


    My leaders didn''t stop me, just added some symbolic restrictions, letting me take my revenge in the game.


    I visited them in prison, extracting brainwaves, implanting them into the gaming pods.


    The otome game player turned into a doll was designed based on my sister, the first trigger point for memory in the game.


    Then, I needed to explore their three houses to trigger all memories.


    The messy dolls were already complete.


    I shook my head, realizing that no matter how many times I did this, I lacked their twisted talent.


    Exiting the gaming pod, I opened my eyes in the real world.


    I went next door to visit my sister.


    Whenever I entered the game, I would put a helmet on her, sharing the stream of consciousness within the game world with her.


    After multiple retaliations in the game, my sister''s condition gradually improved.


    Probably, she would wake up soon.


    Cedric and Mr. Grayson.


    The first time these two men saw me in prison, they almost went mad with fear, running wildly around, their eyes filled with terror.


    After medical evaluation, they were declared insane.


    I had them committed to a psychiatric hospital.


    I heard they still had subconscious behaviors of abusing small animals.


    That''s fine.


    I had previously developed a consciousness-raising game for the psychiatric hospital.


    It helped to stimulate a love for life and a protective quality for the weak in patients.


    The results were quite good.


    Soon, the hospital director sent me a message.


    Cedric and Mr. Grayson were caught bullying small animals and got beaten up by other patients each time.


    A week later, my sister finally woke up.


    It was a medical miracle.


    With the support of my leaders and sister, I made modifications to the otome game.


    I added more levels, circulating it among vegetative patients, and the feedback was good.


    As for Sebastian, perhaps his consciousness collapsed in the game.


    He never woke up again.


    Living on in a vegetative state, perhaps, was another form of a doll.


    ¡¾Side Story: Sebastian¡¿


    The day my first girlfriend broke up with me, I desperately tried to retain her, but she harshly pushed me away.


    She said, "No wonder your mom didn''t want you, you''re a freak!"


    Is it the fault of those who are left behind?


    At that moment, a deep yearning surged within me.


    I never wanted to be abandoned again.


    I turned her into a doll.


    I placed her next to my mother.


    No one can leave me.


    No one!


    I tenderly stroked her hair, whispering softly, "Dear, you always wanted to meet my mom, right? Now you have, and you two must get along well. Don¡¯t stir up any mother-in-law and daughter-in-law conflicts, or it will be difficult for me."


    I closed the cabinet door.


    And went out to find my next target.


    I couldn''t bear loneliness anymore.


    Only dolls will always accompany me; I wanted to make my home livelier.


    After being arrested and jailed, I encountered the woman who changed my life.


    The first time I awakened consciousness in the game was when she turned me into a doll for the first time.


    I fought back furiously, filled with despair.


    But strangely, I felt a sense of satisfaction.


    Different from making dolls.


    It was the sense of belonging when being made into one.


    The emotion I had been craving my whole life.


    From then on, I never lost my memory in the game again.


    I fell in love with the sensation of slowly losing life under her hands.


    But she was too smart.


    I couldn¡¯t restrain my excitement once, revealing my inner thrill, and she didn''t proceed (to quickly end my life, not turning me into a doll).


    Once, she used too much force, chopping off my shoulder with an axe, making it impossible to turn into a pretty doll.


    Also, I had to be wary of Cedric and Mr. Grayson, those fools always trying to ruin my plans.


    What artist doesn''t love their muse? I became obsessed with this cycle of rebirth.


    But I always felt that she wouldn¡¯t come back after this time.


    Before, she never talked to me this much.


    So be it.


    This time, I won''t wake up.

 Escape CRESTHILL Academy Part.1

    Title: "Rule Six: Never Inquire Teachers Outside the School Building."


    I raised my hand to ask, "Miss, what if I seek your guidance outside the school building?" After a brief, unsettling silence, the teacher''s lips creepily stretched to her ears: "You''d meet your demise."


    Welcome to Cresthill Academy, an institute shrouded in local folklore. Legend has it that only parents who receive a mysterious brochure can enroll their children here. Graduates from Cresthill are rumored to become exceptionally ''obedient'' kids. As for me, I''m an aficionado of such eerie tales. I secured this spot by paying a substantial sum to a couple.


    I shook my head at the teacher, her mouth gaping grotesquely: "Thanks, Miss. I have no further inquiries." Her gaze drifted away, seemingly in disappointment.


    A hushed terror pervaded the classroom. My classmates wore expressions of horror, yet silence reigned. I lowered my head, thoughtfully examining the freshly distributed "Cresthill Academy Student Code."


    "Rule One: The Academy operates a rigorous five-day, sealed training program. The main gates are strictly forbidden during this period."


    "Rule Two: Meal times are strictly observed ¨C 7:30-8:00 for breakfast, 12:00-12:30 for lunch, and 18:00-18:50 for dinner. Students must consume meals in the dining hall during these periods to ensure proper nutrition, a cornerstone of successful completion."


    "Rule Three: The academy houses students in triple-occupancy dorms. Room swapping is prohibited. Dormitories lock from 19:10 until the next morning at 7:20. Students must remain inside during this period and maintain quiet after lights out."


    "Rule Four: Active participation in classes, thoughtful responses to queries, and diligent homework completion are mandatory."


    "Rule Five: Noise, roughhousing, and running are not permitted within the academic building."


    "Rule Six: Instructors are eager to resolve any queries, offering precise answers. Due to their busy schedules, responses will be brief. Students are to refrain from questioning instructors outside the academic building. Each student is granted one query per day."


    "Rule Seven: The primary objective for students is to learn. Questions for instructors are encouraged at any time. However, refrain from bothering non-teaching staff, as they may not provide accurate guidance."


    "Rule Eight: Class hours are 8:20-11:40 and 13:50-17:45. Tardiness and absenteeism are not tolerated. Students must be in their designated class and seat during class hours and should retreat to their dorms for self-study otherwise."


    "Rule Nine: Cresthill Academy conducts a comprehensive test at 13:50 on the fifth day to ascertain if students have achieved their learning objectives. Those failing to graduate will face disciplinary actions."


    "Rule Ten: A standard academy uniform is mandatory within the campus."


    "Rule Eleven: Attempts to leave the academy during the training period are strictly prohibited."


    "Rule Twelve: Each student starts with three points. Deductions for rule infractions will be made, and reaching zero points will result in discipline. Adherence to these rules is crucial for successful completion and graduation."


    The teacher, her grin unnaturally wide, surveyed the room: "That concludes our introduction. I trust you will all adhere to these guidelines and strive for your ultimate goal ¨C a successful graduation."


    As the bell signaled the end of the class, the teacher gathered her books and departed. The room erupted in whispers. I surveyed the surroundings, my gaze fixing on the digital clock.


    17:49.


    Phones were confiscated upon entry. My wristwatch confirmed the precise time. According to the map on the handbook''s reverse, the dining hall wasn''t far. With only ten minutes to spare, it was prudent to head there immediately.


    2


    On my way, I noticed many students chatting and laughing, seemingly unaware of the lurking dread. I arrived at the dining hall with minutes to spare and joined the queue. A stocky boy ahead grumbled about the meager portions, requesting extra rice. The cafeteria worker obliged, cautioning him against wastefulness.


    I settled in a secluded spot. The rules seemed incomplete. The handbook encouraged questions to instructors anytime, yet forbade inquiries outside the academic building. The contradiction implied that questions were permissible only within the building.


    The repercussions for rule-breaking were ambiguous, a fact I''d learned through inquiry.


    Information was crucial for survival.


    Suddenly, a commotion aRose at the dining hall entrance; the doors shut abruptly at 18:00. Latecomers were locked out, the glass doors immovable as if sealed.


    An eerie silence enveloped the dining hall as a torrential rain began outside. Students caught in the deluge disturbingly melted away, their forms dissolving under the rain like clay figures. Some pounded on the doors in vain, others ran for shelter, only to collapse as their bodies disintegrated.


    The dining hall, once abuzz, was now eerily quiet. The boy who had asked for extra rice retched violently.


    3


    18:50.


    The strange rain ceased, and those stranded outside vanished as if absorbed into the earth. The dining hall doors reopened on schedule.


    After witnessing the horror, I felt queasy but resisted the discomfort, hastening to the dormitory as per the handbook''s map. Rule three: Triple-occupancy dorms, no room-swapping, doors lock at 19:10 until 7:20 the next morning.


    I located my assigned room, 311: Jack Chen, Rose Wang, Hannah Green.


    I entered; my roommates hadn''t arrived yet. I hoped they hadn''t been caught in the downpour. The dorm featured traditional loft beds with desks below. Each bed bore our names, and neatly folded white uniforms with a large black ''3'' on the back lay on the desks.


    I changed into my uniform. The number likely represented the points mentioned in the handbook. But the criteria for deductions and the specifics of punishments were unclear. Was the teacher''s ominous warning of death literal?


    I pondered over this as a girl with a cherubic face entered the room. A digital clock on the door read:


    19:03.


    XXX


    "Hello," I nodded in greeting, "I''m Jack Chen."


    "Hello," the girl with the baby face found her bed next to mine and sat down, her voice trembling. "I''m Rose Wang."


    I realized she was shaking too. No wonder, after witnessing the scene in the cafeteria, even the boy who seemed so carefree earlier reacted strongly.


    "You... saw it too, right?" Rose initiated a conversation as I struggled to find the right words.


    "The cafeteria?" I hesitated, "Yes, I saw it."


    "I want to go home," she said, trying to control her shaking.


    I remained silent. Comforting others was never my strength, especially in life-threatening situations where words felt powerless.


    Rule One: The Academy operates a rigorous five-day, sealed training program. The main gates are strictly forbidden during this period.


    Rule Eleven: Do not attempt to leave the Academy during the training period.


    The sound of the dormitory door opening echoed again.


    19:08.


    A tall, slender girl with short hair entered, breathing heavily from what must have been a brisk walk. This was undoubtedly Hannah Green.


    I took the opportunity to distract from comforting Rose: "Hannah, right? I''m Jack, and this is Rose."


    After greetings, Hannah picked up her uniform, revealing a ''2'' on the back.


    Rule Twelve: Each student starts with three points. Points will be deducted for breaking rules, and students reaching zero points will be disciplined.


    Rose and I still had ''3''. Hannah must have broken a rule.


    I pondered over the handbook''s rules, recalling each one. Hannah seemed to read my mind, "Rule Eleven."


    She sat down, pulling out a pack of gum and popping a piece into her mouth.


    Rule Eleven: Do not attempt to leave the Academy during training.


    Reckless, I thought, but didn''t voice it out loud.


    "Can you share what happened?" I asked cautiously, offering to share the information I had gathered.


    Hannah caught her breath, "After leaving the cafeteria, I followed a group heading towards the perimeter wall. I thought I could make it back to the dorm in time."


    Her voice tightened, "They climbed the wall but came down one by one. I thought some rules might not have consequences, but I was curious what they saw, why they didn''t just escape. So, I climbed up too."


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "What I saw was..." She clenched her hair, "Darkness. Nothing but darkness. I threw a stone down, and it took more than half a minute before I heard nothing. I didn''t wait any longer, fearing I''d run out of time."


    The punishment for breaking Rule Eleven was a point deduction. Three points seemed ample, but in reality, everyone only had two chances.


    Rule Twelve: Points reaching zero will result in discipline.


    I was about to share my analysis when the dormitory''s bell rang piercingly.


    We all looked up at the digital clock on the door.


    19:10.


    Rain started falling outside again.


    5


    Rose, Hannah, and I weren''t in the same class, so they didn''t know about the teacher''s bizarre behavior today.


    I shared what I knew with them.


    "This means our daily question is crucial," Hannah noted, looking at Rose. "We need to use it tomorrow."


    "What should we ask?" Rose buried her face in her knees, her idea of going home dashed after hearing Hannah''s story.


    Surviving the next five days was up to us.


    "Let''s think of questions tonight," I suggested. "We''ll meet here every evening to share and analyze the information we gather."


    Hannah and Rose agreed.


    I reviewed the student handbook and assigned them questions.


    Hannah''s question: Are there any unspoken rules with penalties beyond the handbook?


    Rose''s question: What happens to students who are disciplined?


    My question: Is there a way for us to escape?


    I also asked Rose and Hannah to approach their teachers individually after class with these questions.


    My actions yesterday might have hinted at the importance of the daily question to some students. More would realize this tomorrow.


    Asking publicly in class, like I did today, meant sharing potentially life-saving information freely.


    That would be foolish.


    We couldn''t assume everyone was selflessly altruistic. Heroes in horror stories rarely survive till the end. We needed to keep vital information as leverage for trading with others.


    22:00.


    Melodious music played throughout the dormitory, followed by an announcement.


    "Dear students, the dormitory lights will go out in thirty minutes. Please maintain quiet after lights out and rest in your beds. Prepare for tomorrow''s lessons and successful completion.


    "There are no dorm supervisors, and no room checks will be conducted. Please lock your doors and windows before lights out.


    "Avoid creating any light to not disturb others.


    "Thank you for your cooperation."


    The music ceased.


    Hannah picked up her notebook, "That''s our dormitory rules."


    One: Lights out at 10:30.


    Two: Lock doors and windows.


    Three: Maintain silence after lights out.


    Four: Light brings unknown dangers.


    Five: Stay in your beds after lights out.


    I memorized them quickly, while Rose scribbled them down.


    "One more rule," I suddenly remembered from the student handbook.


    Rule Three: Maintain silence in your dormitory after lights out.


    This was actually two requirements: 1. Stay in your dormitory; 2. Maintain silence.


    Hidden Rule: Do not leave your dormitory after lights out.


    I shared my discovery with Hannah and Rose.


    Hannah thought for a moment, "Let''s change my question."


    Her question now: Are all meals to be eaten in the cafeteria essential for successful completion?


    Rule Two: Proper nutrition is the foundation for successful completion.


    Back to the present, I couldn''t sleep, half-awake in the darkness, sensing subtle changes around me.


    Occasional sounds of fabric rustling came from the other beds ¨C they couldn''t sleep either.


    Only my mechanical watch offered any sense of time in the lightless room.


    After an indeterminate time, footsteps echoed outside, slow but rhythmic.


    They twisted each doorknob, then knocked four times.


    When it reached a dorm near us, a commotion broke out.


    "You doing what? Xiaofei!"


    "Are you crazy? Don''t open the door! Help me hold her!"


    They failed to stop her, as I heard their door open.


    Screams erupted from the room, followed by silence as each occupant was subdued.


    The mysterious being continued its routine, checking each door and knocking.


    Tonight''s screams ebbed and flowed like waves, sometimes distant, sometimes close.


    I eventually fell asleep amidst this terror.


    7


    The lights came on, and I opened my eyes immediately.


    The digital clock powered back on, displaying 6:55.


    The music played again, and the announcement resumed: "Good morning, dear students. Welcome to the first day of classes. We hope you are well-rested. It''s now 6:55 AM. Please dress neatly and prepare for learning. The last person to leave the dormitory, please lock the door."


    I glanced at my wristwatch reflexively and paused.


    My watch showed seven o''clock.


    "Let''s follow your watch''s time, to be safe," Rose suggested hesitantly. "Hurry, let''s get to the cafeteria together."


    Passing room 307, I glanced quickly.


    Three names, two crossed out.


    Xiaofei Yang, the betrayer.


    Many rooms had names crossed out to varying extents, but lacking more information, I couldn''t discern who the survivors were and didn''t linger.


    We reached the cafeteria at 7:20 by my watch. We each grabbed a bun and sat waiting for 8:00.


    At 7:25, according to the digital clock, the cafeteria doors closed.


    Torrential rain poured down.


    The malice of the Academy was laid bare to the surviving students. From about a thousand initially, only around two hundred remained in the cafeteria.


    A chill crawled up my spine.


    Hannah whispered, "Look at everyone''s uniform numbers."


    I hadn''t paid attention before, but now I noticed many with ''3'', and a significant number with ''2'' and ''1''.


    "Some might already have been disciplined," Rose murmured.


    I saw the boy from yesterday, still marked with a ''3''. He looked uninterested in his meal, dumping his food in the swill bucket after the doors opened.


    I relaxed, still having three points, and went to discard my half-eaten bun.


    "Jack!" Rose''s panicked voice made me turn, meeting her terrified gaze.


    "What''s wrong?" I asked.


    Hannah glanced at my back, "You''re down to two."


    Surprised exclamations echoed around us.


    I immediately remembered the sound from last night, followed by the cafeteria lady''s words.


    "Wasting is not a virtue."


    That was a rule!


    Hannah seemed to reach the same conclusion, "There''s a betrayer!"


    The chubby boy had turned traitor!


    A flurry of questions occupied my mind: How do betrayers emerge? Are they still human? Can betrayers break hidden rules without penalty?


    These questions were cut short by an expletive.


    No time for discussion ¨C we had to run to the academic building.


    8


    Remembering my daily question, I quickly approached the teacher after class: "Miss, I have a question!"


    She turned, her voice gentle but her smile unnerving: "Go ahead, Jack."


    The scenario was unsettling, no matter how often I''d seen it.


    I took a deep breath and asked, "Is there a way for us to leave this place?"


    The teacher''s demeanor changed, her tone sharp, "Have you read the student handbook carefully?"


    Rule Eleven: Do not attempt to leave the Academy during training.


    "Could ''leaving'' be a forbidden word?" I wondered, bowing deeply as a sign of respect and apology: "I''m sorry, teacher! I''ll study the student code thoroughly. Goodbye for now!" The teacher nodded her head.


    It seemed all was well, and I turned to head to the cafeteria.


    As I left, the teacher''s voice followed me: "Jack Chen, teachers remember disruptive students. I''ll remember you."


    As I turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of the teacher standing still, her mouth unnervingly stretched into a wide smile.


    9


    At lunch, the cafeteria was bustling with students huddled together, evidently exchanging information.


    Our dorm had agreed to share insights in the evening, so the three of us ate in silence, each lost in thought.


    A bespectacled boy approached us: "Hi, Jack Chen, I recognize you. I''d like to exchange information with you."


    It took me a moment to remember him from my class.


    He must have noticed me on the first day.


    "I have answers to two questions that I''d be willing to exchange with you. To show my sincerity, I''ll share the content of my questions first," he said casually, taking a seat next to us.


    "My first question was: Under what circumstances can a student break a rule without losing points?"


    Clever question!


    Hannah signaled me with her eyes, suggesting a discussion, but in my excitement, I blurted out my question: "Let''s exchange! My question is: Is there a way for us to escape this place? I''ll trade this answer for your first question''s answer."


    The boy nodded with satisfaction: "The answer to my first question is: Punished students."


    Punished students can break rules without losing points.


    Rose, hearing this, twisted her face into a perplexed expression.


    She then said, "I''ll exchange with you for that answer. My question was: What happens to students after they are punished? The answer is: They return to three points and become ''good children.''"


    Punished students return to three points. Three-point students are ''good children.''


    We fell into silence.


    Zero-point students get punished, and punished students return to three points, gaining immunity from losing points.


    They blend in with the regular students, indistinguishable.


    Unless... normal people willingly reduce their points to 2 or 1.


    Obviously, everyone thought of this.


    Rose, the only one in our dorm with three points, hesitantly picked up half a bun from her plate and stopped me from speaking: "Let''s talk in the dorm tonight."


    Rose threw the bun, reducing her points to two, and returned.


    She sighed deeply, staring at the bespectacled boy: "Just one life left now."


    The boy, unnerved by her gaze, also disposed of his meal, returning with a ''2'' on his back.


    I spoke up: "Then I''ll share my answer. It was: Did you read the student code carefully?"


    Honestly, I wasn''t sure if that counted as an answer, as it was a question itself.


    "Rule Six: Teachers will happily answer any question and provide the correct answer."


    "That''s interesting," the bespectacled boy chuckled. "My second question was: If a student asks an off-topic question, like ''How to prove the Goldbach Conjecture,'' how would you react?"


    Before I could fully contemplate his question, I responded impulsively.


    "amazing."


    10


    "How did the teacher respond?" Hannah asked eagerly.


    The boy recalled, "Then the teacher glitched." We were all puzzled.


    "He kept cracking and uncracking his smile, speaking in two different tones," he continued.


    Mimicking the teacher, he began shaking his head erratically: "''Refuse to answer, refuse to answer, refuse to answer...''"


    Then he stopped: "Like that. So I said he glitched."


    The boy expressed regret: "I wanted to see how long that question would hold him, but I was short on time, so I hurried to the cafeteria."


    This information was invaluable!


    I was shocked by the revelation.


    "You''re incredible," Hannah wiped imaginary tears, "Wouldn''t miss such a spectacle for the world."


    "Too kind," he replied, his proud expression betraying him.


    "I have a suggestion," Rose said determinedly, "This gentleman''s insights are valuable. Let''s give him Hannah''s question as well."


    I agreed, impressed by his intellect, and so did Hannah.


    "My question was: Is eating every meal in the cafeteria essential for successful graduation? The answer is: Yes."


    "Rule Two: Proper nutrition is the foundation for successful completion."


    At dinner, we met the bespectacled boy, Lee Ye, again in the cafeteria.


    He shared his question for the next day.


    His question was: What day of the five-day complete closed training cycle is it today?


    11


    After dinner, we returned to the dormitory.


    Passing through the hall, I noticed a new board listing each dormitory member''s name and points.


    I saw that three members of dorm 307 and many others had red crosses next to their names.


    A sea of red crosses filled the board.


    "That''s Lee Ye, isn''t it?" Rose pointed at dorm 419. "Look."


    All three members of dorm 419, except for Lee Ye, were marked with red crosses.


    We fell silent.


    Back in our room, we reviewed the day''s information.


    Eating every meal in the cafeteria is essential for successful graduation.


    "Rule Seven: The ultimate purpose of entering the Study Center is to learn, and students are welcome to ask teachers questions at any time."


    "Rule Nine: The graduation test will determine if students have achieved the final purpose of this cycle. Those who do not graduate successfully will be punished."


    "Rule Twelve: Students are expected to follow the rules to achieve the ultimate purpose and graduate successfully."


    We highlighted these particular rules.


    In fact, we encountered a problem while discussing the student code yesterday.


    Rules Two and Seven mentioned two key terms: ultimate purpose and successful graduation, both repeated in Rules Nine and Twelve.


    If ''ultimate purpose'' meant learning, then ''successful graduation'' must have another meaning.


    But then I had a critical realization.


    "Rule Seven: The ultimate purpose of entering the Study Center is to learn, and students are welcome to ask teachers questions at any time."


    We had already proven the second half of this statement false. What if the first half was also false?


    I remembered the teacher''s words after my question yesterday: "Students are expected to follow the rules to achieve the ultimate purpose and graduate successfully."


    I recalled the teacher''s responses to other students'' questions throughout the day, her smile wide each time.


    Today as well... when she said she''d remember me, I caught a glimpse of her wide smile.


    It was highly likely that the teacher''s abnormal smiling state was a necessary condition for answering questions or providing useful information.


    "I get it," I stood up, my heart racing with excitement. "What if the last sentence of Rule Twelve isn''t a parallel structure but a causal relationship?"


    If the ultimate purpose is successful graduation, it all makes sense!


    The ultimate purpose isn''t learning!


    If it''s not learning, then successful graduation might mean... escape!


    "Tomorrow I''ll confirm with the teacher," Rose said, holding her head. "Feels like my brain is going to explode."


    As she clearly expressed no desire to think further, Hannah and I discussed Rose''s question.


    Punished students become ''good children,'' returning to three points, and are immune to point deductions.


    Punished students are the traitors, harmful to students.


    But traitors seem unable to act directly, only misleading students or helping the night patrol monster by opening doors.


    This wasn''t hard to notice.


    In fact, after an afternoon of elimination, many students had already figured out how to distinguish traitors from regular students.


    In the hall, I noticed that most of the surviving students had ''2'' or ''1'' as their points.


    We finally determined Rose''s question: Will a punished person who hasn''t ''successfully graduated'' be punished again?


    We had dismissed the use of the term ''ultimate result'' from the start.


    Although we knew teachers would give correct answers, the boundary between right and wrong wasn''t clear.


    My question today also received a very ambiguous answer from the teacher.


    A vague right is still right. According to this rule, as long as the teacher doesn''t lie, they can freely mislead students'' understanding of the rules.


    If we used ''ultimate purpose'' to ask questions, the teacher still had plenty of room to mislead us.


    For example, "You should carefully understand the student code yourself, it''s in there."


    Trust that, and you''re a fool.


    We then analyzed the next piece of information.


    "Before we discuss," I said, surrendering, "I have to admit I didn''t fully share my answer from today. There''s more to it."


    In the afternoon, I thought hard about his question and had to admit Lee Ye was a genius.


    With just one question mark, he asked a question that yielded two contradictory answers.


    Question 1: How to prove the Goldbach Conjecture?


    This is clearly an off-topic question. The teacher chose not to provide any useful information.


    Therefore, the teacher should be in a normal state, responding with "Refuse to answer."


    Question 2: What would be your reaction if a student asks you an off-topic question?


    Lee Ye was cunning here, using the word "for example."


    It''s unclear whether this example refers to off-topic questions in general or specific unsolved mathematical mysteries like the Goldbach Conjecture.


    So, the teacher assumed the scope of this example to be all questions they can''t answer. When unable to answer, the teacher should refuse to answer.


    The "Refuse to answer" for Question 1 is a refusal, but for Question 2, it clearly provides an answer, thus it is a response.


    Therefore, the teacher should be in both an abnormal and normal state.


    This information not only saves lives in critical moments but also clarifies that teachers need to be in an abnormal state to provide useful information.


    Lee Ye''s move was brilliant.


    Thus, our hypothesis about the key term "successful graduation" is confirmed.


    Those punished and assimilated by the school into phantoms have naturally lost their chance at successful graduation. In other words, they can no longer escape.


    Rose''s question is critical not for its latter part, but for the two attributes mentioned earlier!


    The response to the latter question, regardless of what it is, affirms the former two attributes!


    I remember the answer I got from the teacher today.


    "Jack Chen, teachers remember disruptive students."


    I thought it was a threat for asking an off-topic question.


    But when I left, I glimpsed the teacher still in her abnormal state, meaning this statement also contained useful information.


    What information can a threat have?


    "A warning of danger," Rose muttered with lowered eyes, asserting the answer.


    Yes, unless that statement was a warning of danger.


    The teacher inferred from my question that I was planning to escape.


    From tomorrow, I must be extra cautious around teachers.

 Escape CRESTHILL Academy Part.2

    With traitors inside and teachers outside, I re-read the student code amidst internal and external threats.


    "Rule Nine: The Study Center will conduct a graduation test at 13:50 on the fifth day, determining if students have fulfilled the ultimate purpose of this cycle. All students who fail to graduate successfully will be punished."


    It''s clear that traitors can''t escape and won''t be punished again.


    This rule is obviously aimed at settling accounts with regular students.


    What can''t traitors do that regular students failing to do would result in becoming traitors?


    Only escaping.


    The real Rule Nine should be: "The Study Center will conduct a reckoning at 13:50 on the fifth day, determining if regular students have escaped. All students remaining will join the Study Center."


    This is a blatant "Run!"


    We absolutely cannot stay until 13:50 on the fifth day!


    "I remember Lee Ye will ask about the day count tomorrow," Hannah recalled.


    Right, we still don''t know if yesterday''s half-day counts as a full day in the training cycle.


    The morning announcement mentioned "the first day of formal study," not "the first day of the training cycle."


    If a night counts as a day, today would be "the second day of the training cycle."


    We discussed until nearly lights out, still unsure how to phrase the remaining two questions.


    We can''t waste this opportunity, but not asking is also wasteful.


    After everything was prepared, I lay in bed and had a sudden epiphany.


    So far, almost every sentence in the student code has significance.


    Despite the malicious misdirection and ambiguity, each sentence provides crucial guidance.


    "Rule Five and Six: Students should listen attentively in class, actively answer questions, and diligently complete homework. No noise-making, horseplay, or running is allowed inside the academic building."


    These have been verified today as point-deducting rules.


    That leaves only the last sentence of the code.


    "Rule Seven, Second Sentence: Do not disturb non-teaching staff members as they are not professional and will give incorrect guidance."


    The first sentence of Rule Seven has been proven false. ("Students enter the Study Center with the ultimate purpose of learning and are welcome to ask teachers questions at any time.")


    What about the second sentence? Could it also be false?


    I suddenly realized that compared to other traps in the code, the first sentence of Rule Six and Seven was blatantly contradictory, even inconsistent with the tone of the entire code.


    What if the obvious contradiction in the first sentence of Rule Seven was just a smokescreen? Could the truly important part be the second sentence?


    14


    With only five minutes until lights out, the dormitory was unusually noisy tonight. We lay in bed, listening to the events unfolding outside. The girl next door was desperately banging on her door, pleading to be let in. "I''m not a traitor! Really!" she cried. "How can we be sure? What if you betray us?" came a response from inside the room. Scenes like this played out all over the dormitory until silence fell at lights out. The night patrol monster arrived on schedule.


    In the midst of intermittent screams and cries, I pondered over the seventh rule. Actually, in this rule, each sentence contains only half a truth.


    "Rule Seven, First Sentence: The ultimate purpose of students entering the Study Center is learning, and they are welcome to ask teachers questions at any time." There is an ultimate purpose, but it''s not learning. Students are welcome to ask questions, but not anytime or anywhere.


    How then could I phrase a question to uncover the error in this statement while keeping my intention to escape hidden from the teacher?


    I fell asleep at some point but was jolted awake when the lights turned on. "Yikes! I got it!" I exclaimed. Hannah, who had just opened her eyes, sat up and clapped at my sudden realization.


    "amazing."


    Not wanting to waste time, I hurried them to the cafeteria at the fastest speed. The digital clock was displaying the correct time again today, and more students had been eliminated. Those with three points were completely isolated, while those with two or one point sat in small groups.


    I shared my analysis and findings with them. Asking questions to the non-teaching staff would not result in point deductions or death. The second sentence of Rule Seven explicitly stated the consequence of violating it: receiving incorrect guidance.


    "However, I suggest that we follow Rule Six while executing the second sentence of Rule Seven," I said.


    Suddenly, Lee Ye appeared behind Hannah and Rose. "Rule Six, last sentence: Each student is allowed one question per day." He nonchalantly walked around the table and took the last empty seat. "I''ll come up with the question. Who''s going to ask it?"


    "Okay, you come up with it. I''ll ask," Rose said, looking at me. "Can you help me ask? The teachers are really scary."


    "Then I''ll go with Rose to ask," Hannah offered.


    Lee Ye cleared his throat and proposed his question.


    15


    The first question: What is 122 + 128?


    The second question: How to make cauliflower crispy and delicious?


    "You guys just go ask the cafeteria lady," Lee Ye pointed out, "but go one by one, not together."


    The lady was wiping the edge of a vegetable basin with a discolored cloth.


    We waited until Hannah and Rose returned from asking before inquiring about the answers.


    The first answer: 200.


    The second answer: Soak the raw cauliflower in water and then blanch it.


    "Ha!" Lee Ye exclaimed excitedly, "I knew it would work!"


    Rule Seven, First Sentence: "The ultimate purpose of students entering the Study Center is learning, and they are welcome to ask teachers questions at any time."


    There is an ultimate purpose, but it''s not learning. Students are welcome to ask questions, but not anytime or anywhere.


    "Rule Seven, Second Sentence: Please do not disturb other staff members besides teachers. They are not professional and will provide incorrect guidance."


    This sentence seems unrelated to the first, but it''s actually a precondition to the first. And since the attribute "ultimate purpose is learning" has been overturned, this sentence should mean: The cafeteria ladies and other non-teaching staff are not professional teachers, so of course, they will provide incorrect guidance on academic matters, but they can be asked about their areas of responsibility for correct results.


    "You''re quite impressive, figuring out the correct interpretation of the ultimate purpose on your own," Lee Ye said to us after explaining the rule, to which Hannah suddenly commented, "But can we really trust you?"


    I thought back to the name board in the dormitory hall and understood Hannah''s implication.


    I needed Hannah and Rose''s help to get this information, but Lee Ye managed it on his own.


    Was this merely from our single exchange of information?


    He was definitely not as simple as he seemed.


    As Hannah voiced her doubts, Lee Ye raised an eyebrow: "Ah, the so-called smart people."


    Lee Ye couldn''t be fully trusted.


    Just as this thought crossed my mind, Lee Ye added, "But you can trust me."


    Can we, though?


    16


    Today, only eight people remained in the classroom, including three ''good children.''


    Everyone who had survived this far wasn''t simple, right?


    Not necessarily.


    If one just follows the rules without delving deeper, they can survive too.


    But come the ''final reckoning,'' we would be forcibly assimilated into ''good children.''


    The superficial rules are deadly; in reality, the hidden rules are the guide to escape: "The reckoning on the afternoon of the fifth day, every meal is the basis for escape."


    According to Lee Ye''s guess, today should be the third day of the cycle.


    But can I trust him? A mistake here means death.


    "But you can trust me," Lee Ye''s voice echoed in my mind.


    My thoughts were a mess; it was hard to pay attention to what the teacher was saying on the podium.


    That is, until I was hit on the head by a piece of chalk.


    "Jack Chen, answer this question!" the teacher commanded.


    The high school-level question was no issue for me. After quickly answering, I sat down and resumed my thoughts.


    Until a ''good child'' answered a question incorrectly.


    I snapped back to attention and saw the teacher''s smile widen: "Good children should study hard."


    What happened next left me stunned. The teacher''s neck stretched like rubber, her mouth opening unnaturally wide, and she swallowed the ''good child'' whole, headfirst.


    Satisfied, the teacher returned to her normal state and continued the lesson.


    The teacher devours ''good children.'' This was new information.


    It''s proven that ''good children'' are the phantoms of the night patrol monster.


    Could the teachers and the night patrol monster be adversaries?


    The bell rang, signaling the end of class.


    An idea suddenly struck me.


    "Teacher!" I hurried after the teacher, "I want to ask today''s question! Is the last meal before the graduation test more important than the others, so important that it directly determines whether we become ''good children''?"


    The teacher paused for two seconds, then answered with a wide smile: "Yes."


    My theory was correct!


    Observing the rules, I realized that after the mealtime at 12:30, the cafeteria doors would open, but students were not forced to leave. Many could stay until 13:50 to attend class.


    Students could also return to their dorms during this time.


    Since eating every meal is the foundation for escape, the real escape window is the eighty minutes from after 12:30 until 13:50.


    The key to escape lies either in the dormitory or the cafeteria.


    After the recent question, I was certain.


    It''s the cafeteria!


    17.


    I arrived at the cafeteria where my roommates were already waiting. "I''ve decided to trust Lee Ye. He hasn''t done anything to harm us," I declared. "And I''ve found the key to our escape."


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "I''m with you," Rose said, tugging at Hannah''s sleeve.


    Hannah thought for a moment and then said, "I trust you, and since you trust him, I''ll trust him too."


    When Lee Ye arrived, I called him over. "From now on, the four of us are in this together," I said seriously, sharing today''s information with Lee Ye. He also confirmed that today was indeed the third day of the complete process.


    We had only one day left; the day after tomorrow was our time to escape. However, we only had a clue about how to escape.


    Remembering today''s class, I shared my analysis of the school''s ecosystem with the three of them: ''Good children'' are the lowest rank and subservient to the night patrol monster. Teachers and the night patrol monster are adversaries. ''Good children'' can only assimilate and kill regular students by inducing and assisting the night patrol monster.


    "Thinking about it," Rose analyzed, "the teachers have always been a positive help to us."


    Are the teachers good?


    "Look," Hannah began, "the dormitory has always been dangerous only for regular students, and so far, it seems the academic building is only dangerous for ''good children.'' Moreover, all three locations ¨C the dormitory, the academic building, and the cafeteria ¨C have their unique ''bosses,'' and only the cafeteria has not seen any teacher-like or night patrol monster-like figures."


    After analyzing, we understood the power dynamics of this place.


    The dormitory is chaos, ruled by the night patrol monster and ''good children.''


    The cafeteria is neutral; the staff pose no threat, and there''s more information to uncover.


    The academic building represents order, with teachers belonging to this faction, helping regular students within the bounds of the rules.


    It seems the breakthrough for escape lies with the staff.


    With a goal in mind, we met again in the cafeteria that night.


    18.


    An anomaly occurred during dinner.


    The ''good children'' arrived at the cafeteria as usual but stopped at the entrance.


    The cafeteria doors closed on time, the heavy rain poured down as usual, but the ''good children'' seemed unaffected.


    Outside in the rain, they stood facing the cafeteria, staring intently inside but not moving.


    Their figures were blurry and indistinct, eerily so.


    Rose, frightened, pulled us to the farthest corner of the cafeteria.


    "Why aren''t they entering the cafeteria?" Hannah pondered.


    "Typically, we first ask if something is true, then why," Lee Ye adjusted his glasses and suggested, "Is it possible that it''s not that they don''t enter, but that they can''t enter?"


    Yes, and it''s very likely!


    I thought hard.


    The cafeteria, as a neutral zone, became more apparent, and the ''good children'' from the chaos faction were outright barred from entry.


    There are no instant-death rules in the cafeteria.


    Suddenly, I remembered the number two on my back.


    "I suggest we clarify everything tomorrow," I stood up. "We have eight opportunities left, and we can ask four questions today."


    Lee Ye immediately understood my intention and volunteered, "I''ll start."


    Sure enough, he returned with a one on his back.


    Lee Ye''s question was: What is the cafeteria staff''s off-duty procedure between 12:30 and 13:50?


    Answer: Change out of work clothes and leave through the back kitchen.


    In this answer, "leaving" seemed to refer to leaving the cafeteria, but it likely meant leaving the school. And "work clothes" might represent an identity.


    The cafeteria staff, after "changing out of work clothes," no longer had a valid identity in the school and could thus "leave work," meaning students needed to take off their uniforms before leaving.


    From 12:30 to 13:50, take off the school uniform, leave through the back kitchen.


    19.


    Before lights out, I lay in bed, lost in thought.


    It was thrilling to think we could finally leave this hellish place. Who wouldn''t be excited?


    But deep down, I couldn''t shake a nagging worry.


    Had everything gone too smoothly? Was it really this simple?


    Hannah told me to stop jinxing us.


    Rose stayed silent, but I knew she was anxious too.


    Lights out.


    This time, the silence was replaced by the opposite; the normally quiet dormitory gradually came alive.


    Doors opening and closing, slow footsteps patrolling... I counted about four people walking in the hallway.


    Then, they began knocking on each dorm door, four knocks each, trying to open them.


    There weren''t many survivors left, so I heard many doors being opened.


    Only two or three dorms remained shut. The footsteps lingered unusually long at these locked doors.


    Footsteps stopped at our door. I held my breath.


    The creature tried to turn the doorknob but couldn''t open it.


    I sensed the ''good child'' standing at the door for a while before leaving.


    Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, a loud bang at the door made me sit up in shock.


    "What the hell!" Hannah also sat up, "What was that?"


    More loud bangs followed, and we all heard clearly this time.


    It was breaking down the door!


    I signaled everyone, and the three of us barricaded the door. The ''good children'' began pounding on doors throughout the dorm.


    "I think we don''t have to follow the dorm rules anymore!" I shouted as I pushed against the cupboard, barely audible over the deafening banging. "The rules protecting students are disappearing!"


    Hannah understood and shouted back, "What are those things?"


    "Who knows!" Rose added another cupboard to the barricade, her voice trembling and frantic, "All I know is we''re screwed!!"


    It took two of us to hold the door against the creature''s strength. We took turns guarding it all night.


    Sometimes the banging would stop, but with no pattern or warning. It could be minutes or just seconds before it resumed.


    We dared not make a move.


    Throughout the night, the dormitory echoed with the sounds of doors being broken down and the desperate cries of survivors.


    We heard two girls from a dorm leave their room, perhaps seeking an escape, but they had barely run a few steps before their screams faded into the distance.


    That night felt like an eternity. Only when the lights came back on did the noise outside subside.


    We cautiously checked before leaving our room.


    The entire dormitory bore signs of destruction and struggle.


    "It''s like a Syrian dorm now," I joked bitterly.


    Hannah and Rose said my joke was cold.


    Passing the name board, I counted the survivors.


    Excluding the ''good children,'' only seven of us remained.


    20.


    The three of us, with a total of six dark circles under our eyes, met the energetic Lee Ye in the cafeteria.


    "You three look like you went to save the world," he said in surprise.


    "Cut the crap," Hannah cut him off, "where were you last night?"


    Under our questioning, Lee Ye shared his experience from the previous night.


    After dinner and parting ways, he suddenly thought: since the academic building was not fatal for normal people, could he stay there overnight instead of returning to the dormitory? What would happen if he stayed in the academic building all night?


    It was just a guess; he had no reason to drag others into danger, so he went alone.


    Unexpectedly, the chaos faction had started to ignore the rules.


    "The academic building is safe for overnight stays," Lee Ye stated firmly. "I was hesitant at first, but then I met teachers returning with their meals."


    "And I discovered a bug," he said proudly, "declarative statements don''t count as questions."


    He had found a corner in the academic building''s lobby and saw the teachers returning with their meals. He approached one and said, "I''m staying overnight in the academic building."


    The teacher smiled, nodded at him without saying a word, and then returned to her normal state and went upstairs.


    Lee Ye wasn''t sure if the teacher meant "okay," "noted," or "you can," but with the dormitory doors locked, he had no choice but to stay the night.


    And nothing happened.


    "Declarative statements aren''t questions," Lee Ye said innocently. "I could have been simply informing the teacher that I was staying overnight in the academic building."


    "6."


    It didn''t matter anymore; at least we wouldn''t have to return to that Syrian-like dorm tonight.


    At least that was some good news.


    21


    After dinner, we returned to the academic building, where the seven of us crouched together in a corner of the lobby. We still had seven questions left, but Hannah said there was no need to ask anymore. Lee Ye felt it was a waste not to use them, but he needed to think about what exactly to ask. Jia Feng joked that Lee Ye was just being stubborn because he didn''t know what to ask. I reserved my opinion.


    The teachers soon returned with their meals, as Lee Ye had mentioned. A shadow suddenly darted from beside me¡ªit was Lee Ye. He randomly grabbed a lucky teacher: "Teacher, I have a question!"


    The teacher glanced over our line of people, seemingly surprised, and then looked at Lee Ye: "Ask."


    "Will asking a question outside the academic building result in a deduction of points?"


    Lee Ye''s question seemed pointless. I was surprised. Was he starting to give up?


    "Yes," the teacher answered with a wide smile and then returned to normal and left.


    Deduction of points? Wasn''t it supposed to be instant death? I remembered clearly, it was the first question I asked! Asking a teacher outside the academic building leads to instant death!


    But she didn''t lie to me. Indeed, there is one situation where a deduction of points is essentially equal to death, and that''s at zero points!


    Did the teacher give me an incomplete answer at the beginning? Why did she hide it?


    The teacher couldn''t just be satisfying her own twisted sense of fun by scaring me. What use would it be to scare me?


    You will die... I suddenly understood. It was because of this answer that I realized the malice hidden in the student rules.


    This was the key that guided me to eventually discover the trickery in the rules!


    Did Lee Ye not know I had asked this question?


    He knew! We were in the same class! He said he saw me ask the question and even called out my name!


    Where was he sitting at that time...


    I searched my memory but realized I had never seen Lee Ye in the classroom!


    It''s not that I didn''t see him, he simply wasn''t in my class! This was a lie from the beginning!


    Why didn''t I suspect him until now? Why did it seem so natural when we returned to the academic building together from the cafeteria so many times, but he never entered the same classroom as me?


    Did he influence my thoughts?


    Is that possible?


    If that''s true, why would he want to influence my thoughts? Were all his acts of kindness up to now fake? What''s his purpose? What traps are waiting for me?


    I glanced at Lee Ye nonchalantly, only to find him still standing there, lost in thought.


    If he wanted to harm me, there were plenty of opportunities. He could easily trap me multiple times.


    I decided to trust him.


    21


    In the cafeteria, we finally had a chance to sit down and have a proper conversation with the other three survivors. Among them were two female twins, both athletes specializing in shot put, and a male student named Jia Feng.


    Jia Feng shared the harrowing experiences of his dormitory. Originally, there were three people in his room, but one couldn''t make it through the first night, and the other was extremely pessimistic. "He''s cried more these few days than I have in my entire life," Jia Feng described his roommate. He wanted to say more but ultimately respected the deceased with silence.


    The despondent roommate eventually couldn''t bear the despair and jumped out of the building. The noise attracted the "Good Children" (the term used for transformed students) who climbed over from the next balcony. Jia Feng fled, but ended up trapped in the staircase, sandwiched between the Good Children. His commotion drew the Good Children from the entire building, leading them to mistakenly believe it was safe to peek outside. That''s when they saw Jia Feng running frantically towards them, pursued by a horde of Good Children, like dogs chasing a bone, as Wen Li described it.


    Despite his slender frame, Wen Qi managed to pull Jia Feng into their room with one hand. The Good Children banged on their door for a few minutes but couldn''t break through the sisters'' fortification and eventually dispersed. We realized that the quiet interval we experienced last night was thanks to these two brave women. The inhabitants of dorm room 311 expressed their heartfelt gratitude to the sisters.


    With the end approaching, there was no need to withhold information anymore, so we all shared our experiences and insights. Jia Feng, overcome with excitement at the prospect of escape, shook Lee Ye vigorously.


    "Who''s your buddy?" Lee Ye distanced himself, adjusting his glasses, "I''m your father."


    No one knew when or how they had formed such a close bond, but it seemed genuinely heartfelt. After all, the most sincere relationship in the world is that of parent and child.


    22


    The fifth day finally arrived.


    School ended ten minutes early today. I hurried to the lobby of the academic building to meet up with the others.


    Everyone was there, gathered at the front door of the academic building, looking outside.


    I followed their gaze and felt a sinking feeling.


    A fog had risen outside, hiding countless figures.


    They were the ''good children,'' coming for the few remaining people.


    In the distance, a ridiculously tall humanoid monster could be vaguely seen.


    Although its face was not visible, I could feel it watching us.


    "Could that be the master of the dormitory building we''ve never seen before?" Jia Feng exclaimed in shock. "It''s so tall, at least three meters, right?"


    Under these circumstances, only Jia Feng could remain optimistic.


    With only thirty minutes left to figure out how to leave here and get to the cafeteria, we were running out of time.


    "How likely do you think it is to rush through?" Wen Qi asked Wen Li, looking outside.


    "A suicide mission," Wen Li succinctly replied.


    "You still have six questions," a teacher''s voice suddenly sounded behind us.


    We turned around to find that all the teachers of Wangshan Study Center had gathered in the first-floor lobby. Two female teachers, three male teachers.


    All of them were maintaining their widest abnormal smiles.


    With the ''good children'' army outside and the split-mouth group inside, the scene was incredibly eerie.


    "Come over," Lee Ye pulled me aside, "let''s discuss."


    The seven of us huddled together for a quick meeting.


    The biggest problem was the ''good children'' army outside and the master of the dormitory building. How could we get information that would allow us to safely cross this distance?


    Four minutes later, we posed our final questions to the teachers.


    Our side asked: Is there a way for us to safely cross from here to the cafeteria?


    The teachers answered: Yes.


    Our side asked: What will happen if we are caught by the ''good children'' or the master of the dormitory building?


    The teachers answered: Become ''good children'' or die.


    Lee Ye nudged me: "Help me ask a question."


    His question was: Where is the key to the method mentioned in the first question?


    One of the teachers raised a finger towards Lee Ye.


    Lee Ye? He is the key to our safe arrival at the cafeteria?


    "Don''t joke with me, brother. This gives me the familiar feeling of finding out my poor deskmate from middle school suddenly discovers his biological father is the city''s richest man," Jia Feng sighed.


    "I remember now," Lee Ye thought for a while, for the first time not responding to Jia Feng, "Yes, it''s me."


    "Really you, kid?" Hannah approached.


    Lee Ye smiled wryly, "Sorry, I just remembered." "Wow," Rose said.


    23


    Nine minutes left until noon.


    A teacher came over and handed Lee Ye a utility knife.


    "No time to explain, we''ll talk more in the cafeteria," he said quickly. "Here''s the plan. I''ll go out first, and you guys follow me. Once outside, head straight to the cafeteria and run for your lives."


    "Huh?" Wen Qi was a bit confused.


    But Lee Ye had already taken the utility knife and cut his finger.


    A bizarre scene unfolded.


    Pale blue smoke poured out from the wound.


    "Run!" Before we could react, he yelled and dashed out first.


    Exiting the academic building, the blue smoke spread from Lee Ye''s hand, and we followed him out.


    The ''good children'' indeed stopped chasing us and swarmed towards the blue smoke.


    The three-meter-tall monster of the dormitory building strode towards us. I wanted to look back at Lee Ye but was pulled by Hannah.


    "Don''t look back, just run!"


    11:59.


    The cafeteria door was within reach.


    "Hurry!" Hannah pulled me and Rose, speeding towards the cafeteria.


    Jia Feng and the Wen sisters were right behind us, just a step away.


    The three-meter-tall monster was almost upon us.


    The cafeteria was also just a step away.


    No one expected the sudden turn of events.


    The monster''s abdomen split open, and a thick, spiky tentacle stretched out towards Wen Li.


    "Sister!" Wen Qi instinctively pulled Wen Li forward, throwing her ahead but was pushed back by the huge counterforce.


    Wen Li fell to the floor of the cafeteria, while Wen Qi was dragged back by the tentacle.


    She was devoured right in front of us.


    Wen Li got up to rush out but was held back by us.


    12:30.


    The cafeteria doors opened, and we saw Lee Ye again.


    He told us the truth.


    24


    Lee Ye, standing firm, is the embodiment of the free will of all students forever trapped within this study center. His strong yearning for freedom and the future became so intense that it gave birth to his existence. This overwhelming will twisted the school''s original intent, turning this inescapable death trap into a sliver of hope for life. The tug-of-war between these two forces created the complete Wangshan Study Center, crafted two sets of student rules with diametrically opposed goals, and tore apart this space, creating a neutral zone and an escape rift: the cafeteria.


    The cafeteria symbolizes the rules. To intervene in the five-day cycle, both the school''s will and the will of freedom must abide by the rules. For the first four days, the dormitory monster could only appear within the dormitory building and not before lights out. Lee Ye, however, could only regain his memory and find the key to escape on the last day after hearing the answer to the crucial question from a teacher.


    Lee Ye, being the collective will, has no blood. The pale blue smoke is the color of the sky, representing all the perished freedom, dreams, and futures. It''s something even the ''good children'' long for. Lee Ye is all the students who stayed here, using their lost futures to build a bridge of life for future students.


    "There''s not much time left, you should go," Lee Ye said, looking at Wen Li, "You need to live well."


    "I..." Tears flowed down Wen Li''s face again.


    "Let me tell you a secret then," Lee Ye adjusted his glasses.


    "The teachers are students who once escaped from here.


    "All the teachers are familiar loved ones or friends who have forever stayed here.


    "After death, they chose to return in spirit to Wangshan to protect new students."


    Wen Li was visibly moved by his words. She looked up eagerly, her lips trembling, but all she managed to say was a simple ''thank you.''


    "Let''s go," Lee Ye waved his hand, "Leave this place."


    We took off our school uniforms, climbed through the food serving window into the kitchen, and pushed open the only door in the back kitchen.


    Blinding white light burst forth, engulfing me.


    "Keep walking forward to leave this place," Lee Ye''s voice echoed, "I''m not alone; we are thousands and thousands of free wills forever remaining here. We are the guiding lights in the darkness for those who come after us."


    In the midst of the white light, I faintly saw five figures standing side by side in front of the academic building.


    From afar, I bowed deeply to them once more.

 Subway Death Rules Part.1

    Subway Death Rules:


    1.At Necropolis Station,get off the train before the doors slam shut.


    2.Keep it down inside the station. If you run into trouble, find a station worker or dial 44444.


    3.Trust the folks in white uniforms, not those in black ¨C and report any black uniform sightings.


    4.Make sure you''ve got two hands, two legs, and one head. If anything is amiss, seek help immediately.


    Warning:If you see a Freakishly Distorted Human , hide, hold your breath.


    5.Only follow the instructions from the Broadcast.


    I hopped on the last subway train, absolutely shattered, and crashed out.


    When I woke up, the train had already stopped and outside was a station I''d never seen before.


    Soon, an announcement for the upcoming station blared out, sending chills down my spine:


    "Attention passengers, we''ve arrived at Necropolis Station, the final stop.


    Please disembark in an orderly fashion. Those remaining on board will be killed."


    I woke up to find the train eerily still, and outside was an unknown, bizarre station.


    Quickly, a station announcement played, giving me the chills:


    "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Necropolis Station, your final destination.


    Please exit the train orderly. Failure to disembark will result in death."


    Me: "What the...?"


    "...will result in death?"


    I glanced outside at the station, only to feel a shiver run down my spine as cold dread crawled up from my feet.


    The station, unbeknownst to when, was crammed with countless figures¡ªnot quite human, but distorted forms.


    They filled the station completely, their twisted limbs and heads pressing against the glass,


    their blood-red eyes fixed on us inside, so close I could almost feel their greed and longing...


    "Holy fuck, it¡¯s haunted!"


    My scalp tingled and I jumped up from my seat in a panic.


    "Dude, what''s up with you?"


    The young guy next to me, sporting bright red hair, looked at me puzzled.


    "I saw something outside..."


    Before I could finish, I looked again to find nothing but emptiness outside.


    I swallowed the rest of my words.


    Shit, was I seeing things?


    But the cold sweat and my pounding heart convinced me otherwise¡ª


    something was definitely off here! I needed to get out, fast!


    I wiped my forehead and was about to move when the station¡¯s broadcast came on again,


    its voice mechanical and chilling:


    "Welcome to Necropolis Station.


    Necropolis Station is temporarily closed, and all exits are sealed.


    Please disembark as instructed and wait patiently for the next train.


    Necropolis Station accepts no liability for life or death situations."


    "1. At Necropolis Station,get off the train before the doors slam shut.


    Note: Do not stay on the train."


    "2. Keep it down inside the station.


    If you run into trouble, find a station worker or dial 44444.


    Note: If the phone emits a sharp, piercing laugh, hang up immediately and stay quiet.


    Try calling again after half an hour."


    "3. Trust the folks in white uniforms, not those in black ¨C


    and report any black uniform sightings..


    Note: Stay away from those in black uniforms; don''t trust them."


    "4. Make sure you''ve got two hands, two legs, and one head.


    If anything is amiss, seek help immediately.


    Warning:If you see a Freakishly Distorted Human , hide, hold your breath.


    Don''t let them see you."


    "5. The broadcast will periodically provide passenger guidelines.


    Only follow the instructions from the Broadcast."


    "This is where? Necropolis Station? I''ve never heard of it."


    "Is this some kind of sick joke? It''s not funny at all!"


    "What a mess. I''m not getting off.


    Just take me back! I''m filing a complaint!"


    After a moment of silence, curses erupted inside the carriage.


    The announcement ended, and I looked at the opening subway doors,


    instinctively moving towards them.


    "Hey, mate, you''re not really gonna get off, are you?


    We don''t even know this place. We shouldn''t let them push us around like this.


    And that announcement, what the hell? It¡¯s crazy.


    Let''s call and complain together."


    The redhead blocked my path, phone in hand, ready to make a complaint call.


    "I think it¡¯s best to follow the announcement and get off first."


    Growing fear spread within me as I recalled the scene I had witnessed.


    What if everything announced was true?


    What if those horrifying things were real?


    What if they were already on the train?


    "Listen to me, let¡¯s get off together!"


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Thinking this, my scalp tingled, and I quickly grabbed the redhead, trying to pull him off with me.


    "Damn, you believe that announcement? You''re so na?ve! It¡¯s clearly a prank!"


    "Are you getting off with me or not!"


    Hearing the warning chime for the closing doors, I grew desperate and shouted at the redhead.


    "I''m not getting off. Let them try to kill me!"


    "Suit yourself!"


    Hearing his response, I knew I couldn¡¯t persuade him.


    Watching the subway doors close slowly,


    I didn¡¯t think twice; I darted through the narrowing gap at the last second.


    Staggering a few steps, I barely steadied myself and saw only a handful of others had disembarked.


    Click-clack¡ª


    I heard the subway doors shut and saw the remaining passengers inside, including Redhead.


    In the next moment, I witnessed a horror I''ll likely never forget.


    The passengers began to contort as if controlled by something¡ª


    arms, legs, necks twisting 360 degrees, blood splattering, staining the windows with gruesome streaks.


    "Screams of agony, cries, and pain echoed from the train,


    accompanied by countless bloody palms frantically banging on the windows and doors.


    The sound was intense, but they couldn''t get out.


    Through the blood-stained glass, I saw the passengers turned into twisted human forms...


    I also saw Redhead''s body fold, his bones snapping,


    his eyes bulging as he stared at me in disbelief and pain,


    as if he couldn''t believe I was still alive.


    Thump¡ª


    I sat down hard on the ground, my legs trembling,


    my mind haunted by Redhead''s bloodshot eyes staring at me before he died, and the glaring blood.


    "Ah...ah...aaah!!!" Terrified screams came from nearby.


    My brain hadn''t even had time to react;


    I immediately rushed to the source, pinned the person down, and covered their mouth.


    "Shut up, do you want to die?"


    My voice was uncontrollable from fear:


    "Didn''t you hear the rules just broadcasted?


    No loud noises or cursing at Necropolis Station, you want to die,


    don''t drag others down with you!"


    "Mm-mm..."


    Tears dampened my hand and the panicked whimpers continued;


    I then realized I was harshly covering a young woman''s mouth, her features innocent.


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to."


    She was a girl, after all, so I immediately let go and ruffled my hair in frustration.


    "It¡¯s okay, it was my fault. I¡¯m Emily, thank you for saving me."


    I glanced at her; her eyes were still filled with fear, but she sincerely apologized to me.


    "So, getting off was the way to survive?"


    "...Everyone on the train died...I just want to leave this place, I want to go home..."


    The other passengers who had disembarked gathered around,


    all showing signs of fear and uncertainty.


    Maybe that''s just human nature¡ªto instinctively seek safety in numbers when danger is perceived.


    I was no exception.


    But where was the way out?


    The announcement said to wait patiently for the next train at Necropolis Station,


    so are we just supposed to stay here?


    I instinctively rejected that idea.


    A place that could slaughter an entire train''s worth of people couldn''t be that simple.


    Ding-ding¡ªThe sudden sound of the broadcast made my heart skip a beat.


    "The latest advisory is now being broadcast: from midnight to 1 a.m. is their feeding time.


    All passengers should find a place to hide. Remember, do not let them find you."


    "Current time: 12:10 p.m."


    The empty station was silent, save for the heavy breathing of those around me.


    "Them? Who are they?"


    "Hide? The station is so open, where can we hide?!"


    "What the hell is this place!"


    Fear and anger exploded, and I couldn''t help but curse, "Fuck!"


    "Heeheeheehee¡ª"


    "Thud¡ªthud¡ªthud¡ª"


    The station¡¯s acoustics were excellent, and I began to hear indescribable sounds,


    like clumps of flesh walking without bones, a sticky noise, and a sharp, unnatural laughter that made my nerves ache.


    "They''re not human! Run! Hurry and hide!!"


    These eerie sounds reminded me of the twisted figures I had seen before, and my heart ached with fear.


    I didn''t dare linger any longer; I shouted and without thinking about the others, grabbed Emily, who was nearest to me, and ran.


    Feeding time? Telling us to hide?


    So, are we their food?


    The thought made me feel sick to my stomach.


    I couldn''t see the terrifying things, but the sticky, bizarre sounds followed, feeling ever closer.


    The unknown fear made me shiver, but I dared not stop.


    "There¡¯s a ticket booth ahead!"


    Emily, running with me, excitedly pointed to a small room nearby.


    "Hide in there!"


    I didn¡¯t have time to think; I just ran into it.


    The ticket booth was small, barely fitting four or five adults, and it quickly filled with people who had followed.


    I saw those who couldn¡¯t fit curse viciously, looking to run elsewhere, but soon screams erupted.


    "Ah!!!"


    "It hurts, let go of me!!"


    "Save me...save me!! I don''t want to die..."


    "Let me in! Let me in, please!!"


    Bang, bang, bang!!


    One by one, their faces, distorted by pain, pressed against the outside of the ticket booth.


    Blood streamed from their eyes as they stared us down dead in the eye.


    Crunch¡ªCrunch¡ª


    The sound of flesh being chewed filled the air as those outside the booth were devoured bit by bit by the entities behind them.


    And then, I finally saw them.


    They were amalgamations of countless limbs, twisted, misshapen "people" feasting on those outside.


    After finishing, they turned their greedy gazes towards us inside the ticket booth.


    It was as if they were looking at a can filled with delicious food.


    No one dared to speak; the tiny room of the ticket booth was dead silent.


    I huddled in a corner, watching those twisted "beings" peering in with their blood-red eyes,


    as if they¡¯d rush in at the slightest glimpse of "food."


    My hands were clammy with sweat, and perhaps due to the extreme fear, my mind was eerily calm.


    "Hold your breath, don''t look at them," I whispered urgently to those around me.


    I remembered a rule from the earlier announcement:


    If you see twisted human forms, immediately hide and hold your breath; do not let them see you.


    If that rule was right, then holding our breath might be the only way to survive!


    With that thought, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, curled up, and tightly covered my mouth and nose with my hands.


    Thump¡ªThump¡ª


    I could hear my heart beating frantically with fear.


    My blood seemed to swell in my ears, and the sensation of suffocation from the lack of oxygen made my head spin dizzyingly.


    "Mmph! Ah!"


    Crunch, crunch¡ª


    From nearby came muffled cries of agony and the sounds of bones being gnawed on.


    I dared not look, curling up like a turtle in its shell, tightly bunched in the corner.


    Thump, thump, thump¡ª


    My heartbeat quickened, the feeling of suffocation grew more intense.


    Just hold on, just a bit longer.


    I kept frantically repeating this to myself.


    Just when I felt like I was about to pass out from lack of air, everything suddenly went quiet.


    "Ugh¡ª!"


    I couldn''t take it anymore and gasped for air violently, the intense suffocation bringing on nausea,


    and I bent over on the ground, retching painfully.


    "Are you okay?"


    Emily helped me up, her face pale but her expression still filled with concern.


    "I¡¯m okay, thanks..." I panted, then looked around.


    The ticket booth that had squeezed in five was now left with just three of us,


    the others only leaving behind scattered bones and a pool of blood.


    Not wanting to look further, I turned my gaze away.


    Taking advantage of the absence of those "beings," I quickly searched around the booth.


    Soon, I found a crumpled piece of paper in a drawer.


    A glance at it sent chills all over me, and I froze as it read:


    "DO NOT trust the broadcasts."


    What?


    Don''t trust the broadcasts? Impossible!


    I just survived by following the broadcast rules!


    My mind was in chaos, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I held the paper.


    "What''s wrong?"


    Emily took the paper with a puzzled look, and the remaining man came over, his face pale and trembling.


    The paper outlined an entirely new set of rules:


    "DO NOT trust the broadcasts.


    Exit through Necropolis Station Gate C as normal;


    if you need to leave, find a station service person at the ticket booth and request an exit ticket.


    Trust personnel in black uniforms only; they can ensure your safety and secure your departure.


    Avoid any personnel in white uniforms; pretend not to see them to avoid contamination.


    If you encounter anything strange or unspeakable, immediately inform personnel in black uniforms;


    they will take care of them.


    If you are feeling mentally unstable, enraged, or confused,


    please proceed to the station''s rest area; we are at your service."


    I looked away, nearly cursing again in frustration.


    Damn it, these rules were the exact opposite of what the broadcast stated!


    Who should we listen to?


    "Look! It says we can leave through Gate C of Necropolis Station if we get an exit ticket!"


    The remaining man pointed excitedly at the second rule:


    "Let¡¯s find a station staff member and ask for an exit ticket quickly!"


    "Calm down! What if these rules on the paper are a trap?"


    "How can they be fake?! It says there¡¯s an exit! Didn¡¯t you see how many people died here?


    Whoever wants to stay can stay; I can¡¯t take it anymore!"


    The man glared at me with bloodshot eyes, incessantly muttering about not being able to stand it anymore, about wanting to get out.


    "But, but there are no station staff here, and we can''t make a call..."


    Emily stood in front of me, quietly and fearfully speaking to the man.


    "Who says we can''t make a call?!


    I can make a call. Yes, that¡¯s right, what was it said before?


    If you don''t see any station staff, you can call the station service number 44444, that''s the number..."


    The man, however, spoke excitedly and lunged for the phone on the desk,


    beginning to frantically press the buttons.


    I wanted to stop him, but Emily grabbed my arm and shook her head.


    "Hello, this is the station service center, how may I assist you?"


    A warm male voice quickly came through the handset, clear enough that even I could hear it from the side.


    "I, I need an exit ticket! I want to get out of here!


    But there are no station staff here! Please send someone over quickly!"


    The man, out of fear, became agitated.


    "..."


    However, the line suddenly went silent, a silence so deep it started to unsettle me.


    "May I ask where you are?"


    The voice through the handset changed from a man to a woman,


    causing me to gulp, the feeling of unease growing stronger.


    In this situation, revealing our location was not a good thing.


    I reached out instinctively to grab the handset, but it was too late.


    "I, I''m at the ticket booth! Send someone quickly!


    It''s dangerous here! I don''t want to stay any longer!"


    The man was losing his sanity, rapidly and irritably responding.


    "Okay, I will arrange for station staff to come over soon, please be patient."


    "I have a question,"


    I finally couldn''t hold back,


    snatched the handset and took a deep breath, "What color is the uniform you''re wearing?"


    "What color uniform am I wearing?"


    "Of course, it''s black."


    "Hehehehehehehe¡ª"


    A sharp laugh came through the handset, piercing right into my mind,


    sending chills down my spine and a cold sweat breaking out.


    I remembered what the broadcast said:


    "Stay away from staff in black uniforms, do not trust them."


    "Bang!"


    "Let''s go, this place is no longer safe, we need to leave immediately!"


    I dared not think any longer, slammed the phone down, and ran towards the door.


    I didn''t care whether the broadcast was true or not,


    I only knew that caution is the parent of safety, and here, one wrong step could mean a gruesome death.


    But just as I opened the door of the ticket booth, my brain roared and my steps abruptly halted.


    Because right in front of me, standing eerily close, was a person with deathly pale skin.


    So close that I could see her uneven, ill-fitting skin as if it was forcefully stuck on.


    Yet so close, I could not feel her breath, only a faint, disgusting stench of decay emanating from her body.


    Her expression was stiff and pallid, her dark eyes fixed on me, her mouth twisted into a strange smile:


    "Do you need an exit ticket?"


    I heard the "person" in front of me speak.


    "Not me!"


    I immediately stumbled back a few steps, pressing tightly against the wall.


    Fuck! Too creepy, who would have thought someone would be sticking out right outside the door!


    If it weren''t for my quick reaction, I would have bumped right into her!


    "It''s me! It''s me! I need an exit ticket!"


    The man rushed out of the ticket booth, excitedly running to the station staff.


    "Okay, this passenger, please take your exit ticket, this ticket is one per person,


    you can leave through Exit C, please do not give it to others."


    The station staff smiled and pulled a subway ticket out of her uniform pocket and handed it to the man.


    "Okay, okay! Thank you, thank you!"


    The man clutched the ticket in his hand as if it were a treasure,


    his eyes wary and triumphant as he looked at us.


    "Should we get an exit ticket too?" Emily stood beside me, her expression hesitant.


    I looked over the station staff and shook my head. She was wearing a white uniform,


    but with so many people dead here, could there really be an easy way out?


    I didn''t believe it.


    Exit C was just to the left, a few steps away, and I noticed that the Exit C light was indeed on,


    a row of turnstiles stood in front, and beyond was a long, brightly lit corridor.


    "Are you really not taking an exit ticket?


    Then I''m leaving."


    The man, holding the exit ticket, walked to the turnstile, looking at us as if we were fools.


    "I don''t think it''s that simple; you better think it over again."


    I shook my head, firm in my belief.


    "Heh, idiot, I''ll light incense for you once I''m out."


    The man sneered, no longer saying anything else as he unhesitatingly inserted his exit ticket into the turnstile.


    Click¡ªThe turnstile opened, and the man stepped through boldly.


    "I made it! I''m alive hahaha!!!"


    "I..."


    Squelch¡ªGiggle, giggle, giggle¡ª


    The man had only taken a few steps before I heard the sound of his bones twisting.


    I looked over immediately, and through the turnstile, under the bright lights,


    the man''s body began to contort grotesquely.


    "Aaaaah!"


    "No, help..."


    Crack¡ª


    The man''s last word was cut off because I saw his body lunge forward,


    but his head had rotated 360 degrees, staring straight back at us, his expression twisted in agony.


    "Ah!!" Emily immediately covered her mouth, her face a portrait of fear and horror.


    I didn''t want to witness this cruel scene any longer and turned away.


    But then I saw, not far away at the ticket booth, the station attendant who was standing there was wearing a black uniform,


    not the white one I remembered.


    I couldn''t believe it as I looked up and found her staring straight at us with that same eerie smile.


    Her head, too, had turned 360 degrees.


    Boom¡ªMy cold sweat ran down instantly.


    "Let''s go! Get out of here!" I pulled Emily and started to sprint.


    Fuck! What the hell is this place! How are we supposed to survive this?


    The station attendant in a white uniform had changed to a black uniform,


    and what was supposed to be an exit turned out to be a death trap!!


    Who should I believe? The broadcasts? Or that piece of paper?!


    My thoughts were in chaos, unsure of where to run.


    A wave of despair washes over me. Can we... really get out of here?


    Giggle, giggle¡ª