Kill the monster. Easy for him to say.
But only someone like Dong Zi—with a physical stat over 90—could say something like that so casually.
Mr. Zeng gave a bitter smile. “It’s not that simple…”
“Don’t get discouraged,” Mrs. Hu encouraged. “We made it through one night already, didn’t we?”
Mr. Zeng: “…”
He felt zero comfort from his wife’s pep talk.
“You two go finish delivering meals. We’ll meet you in Room 411,” Fu Changxun said.
Since the plan was set, Mr. Zeng, still a bit doubtful, left with his wife to continue deliveries. Fu Changxun and Dong Zi headed to 411—the room shared by Xiaoxiao and Lulu.
The middle-aged woman NPC had already left, probably to tend to other patients.
Lu Qi was already in the room, pacing nervously. He’d been told to come up after waking and had made the trip alone, trembling the whole way. Now, the two female players had left him hanging, and he was too intimidated to break the silence.
When he saw Fu Changxun and Dong Zi enter, he stood up immediately. “You’re finally here…”
But Xiaoxiao’s voice cut him off: “Gege! You’re here! Me and jiejie have been waiting forever!”
Fu Changxun squatted down naturally and gently straightened her clothes. “Did anything strange happen after you got back last night?”
Dong Zi had already stomped on the bug in this room, so Xiaoxiao felt safe to answer: “Nope! We went straight to sleep.”
As she spoke, she yawned—just a little one.
She was still a growing child. Only getting a few hours of sleep wasn’t enough—she was still groggy.
Fu Changxun made good use of the time. “The nurse-side players will be here shortly. We’re going to share information, but we can’t tell them everything.”
Lulu immediately turned her head. “They’re cooperating?”
Fu Changxun nodded. “It’ll help with what we’re trying to do next.”
After all, their goal was to save people—and the more they could save, the better.
He continued, “As you’ve all seen, someone came in and planted a bug while we were out. That wasn’t a ghost—it was a person.”
“The white monster we saw last night? That was the doctor,” Dong Zi added. “He was scared when he saw me this morning, and there was a slash mark on his neck just like the one I made. So I suspect that the doctors turn into monsters at night. As for the nurses… they’re probably tied to those high heel sounds we keep hearing after dark.”
In just one night, they’d collected plenty of clues. But things only seemed to get more complicated.
“Let’s start streaming,” Fu Changxun said. “Xiao Li from the nurse side has probably had his stream running all morning. We should too.”
He added, “I forgot earlier—livestreams let people send gifts.”
This instance was dangerous. If the higher-dimensional beings sent the right kind of gift, it could be a huge advantage.
As the stream went live again, a flood of bullet comments came charging in:
[They’re back online!]
[Whew, thank god I didn’t leave!]
[It’s only been a few minutes of screen-off time for us, but it’s been a whole night inside the instance. The time flow is really wild.]
[Looks like they just woke up? Meanwhile, Xiao Li’s stream is turning into a mukbang.]
[Ugh, his chat is disgusting—either people are fighting or simping for the higher-dimensionals. I couldn’t stand it.]
[“Simping”? Please. We just have a clearer grasp of reality. You think humans can actually beat the higher-dimensional beings? Wake up.]
[Nah, not gonna argue with you. But these players look dead tired. What, didn’t sleep at all? Some veterans they are—weak as hell.]
The stream was full of mockery—right up until Mr. Zeng and Mrs. Hu knocked on the door.
[???]
[Aren’t they on the nurse side? Isn’t this a team-versus-team game?]
[Exactly! Xiao Li’s busting his ass trying to clear the instance, and they’re over here tattling? Shameless. I’m remembering this couple.]
[Seriously? Did it ever occur to you that even in a PvP instance… we’re still human?]
[Have you all lost your minds?]
The higher-dimensional beings watching this chaos didn’t send a single comment.
“Pathetic little lower-dimensionals. Look at them—snapping at each other like rats. Entertaining, in its own way.”
They didn’t even bother to explain anything to the humans. They simply turned their amused attention back to the instance, watching as the players struggled to survive.
Or failed, and died trying.
Mr. Zeng and Mrs. Hu pushed open the door to Room 411 and joined the five patient-side players.
“We went out last night—to the fifth floor,” Fu Changxun said. “What did you learn about the hospital? We’ll trade what we found upstairs. No need to hide anything from the other two players.”
He smiled. “Of course, this exchange is between us. So don’t give away any details to them. If they want intel, let them come make a deal themselves.”
“If they’re not interested, then they don’t get to know. Simple as that.”
Mr. Zeng immediately understood. His impression of Mr. Changxun rose considerably.
He had not only secured useful information for himself but also earned their goodwill in the process.
What a shame they hadn’t chosen to be patients. He regretted it deeply.
Though the information they brought wasn’t much, at least it contained a few useful leads.
For example, the hospital has a basement. While nurses are forbidden from entering the fifth floor, patients are barred from entering the basement. It almost felt… like a balance.
Two factions—hospital staff and patients—each with their own strengths and weaknesses.
Mrs. Hu, looking a little unsure, said, “I also overheard something, but I’m not sure if it’s useful… I heard a doctor mention that ‘family members’ would be coming to visit the patients.”
Fu Changxun nodded thoughtfully as he shared what they’d learned on the fifth floor. “That’s good to know. Thanks.”
After seeing the couple off, the team split up to search for the boy’s “friend.”
Most patients were concentrated on the third and fourth floors. Fu Changxun wandered around the third floor, picking a particularly crowded area to slip into.
“Hi everyone,” he said with a smile, “I’m new here. Mind if I ask about someone?”
Maybe it was the long-neglected Charisma stat finally doing its job, but the patient NPCs were unexpectedly warm and enthusiastic in helping him out.
Some even looked at him with eyes that were… a bit too bright. A few pressed in close, all talking at once:
“You’re looking for a teenage boy?”
“Let me think… I think there was one, but he’s not around much. Not here now.”
“Why’s he not here? Oh, right, he got discharged! I’m so jealous—he got to leave!”
The one who said that was a young patient too. He spoke with such longing that it made Fu Changxun pause—until someone else shattered the mood:
“Jealous? That kid never had any illness. He faked it.”
“No way!”
The young man’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t lie to me! We can leave too!”
The woman who’d called him out was tough as nails. She shoved him back forcefully. “I’m not sick. You’re not sick. He left because they let him. We were sent here.”
“We’re never getting out!”
With that one line, the conversation spiraled into a full-on fight. Shouting turned into shoving, and the room fell into chaos.
Fu Changxun had already slipped aside the moment things got physical. A few NPCs hurried to shield him.
One of them fussed over him. “You okay? Need me to get a nurse?”
Another pushed forward. “Here, sit down, take a breather—hope that didn’t scare you! Sorry, you’re new here, huh? Stuff like this happens sometimes in the hospital. We’ve been locked up here so long, a good fight helps let off steam!”
Fu Changxun’s lips twitched. “Right… and what about what she just said…”
The NPCs all shook their heads. “Don’t worry about that! Of course it’s not true!”
Fu Changxun fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. This hospital was ridiculous enough—who the hell calls a fistfight entertainment?
But just as he raised a hand to his face, he suddenly heard a soft ding ding—some kind of stat increase.
Curious, he opened his game panel. His Charisma had ticked up again—from 90 to 92.
There was even a note: “Xi Shi’s shy gesture—surpasses all beauty.”
Fu Changxun: “…”
Yeah. He didn’t really want this, thanks. But those two points had changed the NPCs’ gazes entirely.
Where before there had been mild curiosity or discreet interest, now their eyes gleamed with naked hunger. The kind of look that made his skin crawl.
Was this what it meant to trigger the “babe magnet” effect?
He had no time to worry about keeping up his character. Thank god his physical stats were decent—he bolted, darting into a room and slamming the door shut before the NPCs could chase him down.
Room 319.
Dong Zi had just finished questioning a few patients and was washing his hands.
Fu Changxun hurled himself into his arms like a lifeline, the moment they were alone. The anxiety finally started to ease.
“I was asking around, and then two of them started brawling! Somehow I gained two Charisma points, and suddenly the NPCs were chasing me down!” He shuddered. “These patients are terrifying. What the hell is the point of being this charming?!”
Dong Zi caught him in a full embrace, heartbeat pounding wildly—thud-thud-thud—so loud Fu Changxun, with his ear pressed right against Dong Zi’s chest, couldn’t help but hear it.
He froze. Then, slowly, he pulled back.
“Um… this Charisma stat doesn’t affect other players, does it?”
“In real life, research says no,” Dong Zi replied.
Fu Changxun let out a breath of relief. “Good. I’d hate for it to affect you—your heart’s going a mile a minute. Agh, listen to me. What am I thinking? You’re straight.”
“I’ve never been straight.” Dong Zi spoke from behind him, a soft smile in his voice. “Where’d you get that idea?”
Fu Changxun hesitated, avoiding eye contact. “Wait—you’re gay too? But we’ve always been bros… Shit, this might sound awful, but you don’t have any of the, uh, usual signs! You’ve never had a boyfriend, never even mentioned it…”
He’d honestly thought Dong Zi was asexual or something. Dong Zi sighed, then reached out and forcibly turned him around.
“Do you get it now? I’ve been chasing you,” he said, eyes locked onto Fu Changxun’s, voice serious and unwavering. “I’ve liked you for years. Since high school. All the way to now.”
Fu Changxun stood frozen, stunned silent.
