Conan, accustomed to dealing with corpses, reacted far less dramatically than Yang Tao. His face was slightly pale as he approached Yang Tao and asked, "Is it… dead?"
"Yes," Yang Tao replied, suppressing his discomfort as he examined the Skin Stealer's features.
The Skin Stealer was a towering humanoid entity with pale yellow skin and deeply sunken, white eyes. Its outer skin was covered in countless tiny protrusions resembling the suction cups on an octopus's tentacles. These nodes clung to human skin, stretching and adhering until the flesh conformed to the Stealer's body, creating the illusion of humanity.
A layer of viscous fluid coated its surface—not its blood, but an adhesive disguise to make the skin appear more realistic. The entity's true blood was the translucent liquid seeping from wounds on its arm—the most reliable way to identify a Skin Stealer.
Yet they rarely allowed anyone close enough to verify; any hostile action during their disguise would provoke immediate attack.
"Are all the creatures here like this?" Conan asked, prodding the body with a small iron rod he had found, examining the disgusting fluid closely.
"No. Normally, entities are sparse in Level 1. It's only because of you and me that the odds are higher." Yang Tao's thoughts returned to what he had overlooked: leaving Eric and Conan alone together in Level 1 was nearly a death sentence.
"By yourself, you face a probability similar to an ordinary person. But with someone beside you, the chance of encountering entities increases exponentially."
This was the Conan Principle: wherever he went, a homicide—or in the Backrooms, an entity—would manifest.
Conan's expression conveyed disbelief at Yang Tao's reasoning.
"Eric, once you finish documenting the Skin Stealer, inform me."
"Understood." Eric scribbled furiously. Recording every detail in the Backrooms was crucial, even if it cost him his life; the information would benefit future explorers.
Yang Tao moved toward a nearby shelf, long since catching sight of the supply crates. After Conan had finished inspecting the corpse, he followed.
"What's inside there?" Conan asked.
Yang Tao picked up a sheet of paper, placing it on the ground. "No one knows until it's opened—but the odds of finding Almond Water are high." He opened it, and a rancid stench wafted out, causing Conan to instinctively cover his nose and mouth. Yang Tao remained unfazed.
"A dead rat… the Backrooms really have a dark sense of humor."
Inside lay a skinned rat, its flesh decayed, white maggots wriggling amid the remains. Yang Tao retrieved other items from the crate. Supplies in Level 1 were meager; rare items were almost nonexistent.
"Who made these?" Conan asked.
Yang Tao tossed the rat-filled box aside. It had no value even for energy exchange. "I'm not sure. But you can see the peculiarity of this world—many things that seem absurd are perfectly normal here. Level 1 itself remains unexplored; no boundaries have been confirmed."
Gradually, Conan adapted to the Backrooms, learning not to obsess over inexplicable details.
"I've finished recording!" Eric announced, closing his notebook. Yang Tao collected the Skin Stealer's skin and stored it in his backpack.
'Exchange.'
Seventy energy points gained—earning "money" was this simple.
"Are you two rested? If so, let's head to Level 2."
"Level 2? How do we get there?" Eric quickly retrieved his notebook.
"Level 2 can be accessed via any corridor in Level 1 that appears longer than the others—this is the simplest method. Other levels have their own paths, but we'll need to explore those gradually."
Both Conan and Eric nodded eagerly.
The trio navigated the empty warehouse, the endless aisles pressing heavily on the mind. Conan adjusted his glasses. "The layout and minutiae of Level 1 constantly exert psychological pressure. The dripping water, the echoing footsteps, the unknown darkness—anyone weak-willed alone here would be driven mad."
Yang Tao smiled. "Weak-willed people never reach the stage of madness. Conan, do you know why Almond Water stabilizes the mind?"
Conan's youthful brow furrowed adorably as he considered. "Are there creatures here that target the mentally weak?"
Yang Tao chuckled, patting his head. "Exactly. Many Backrooms entities prey on those near breaking point. The most notorious is the Wretched—human-turned monstrosities. I'll show you if we encounter one."
They ventured deeper, Yang Tao occasionally sharing useful information. After more than an hour, a fatigued Conan asked, "So… can we ride motorcycles here? With your abilities, couldn't you bring one from my world?"
Yang Tao paused. He had forgotten he could traverse worlds, yet was still relying on his legs to explore the Backrooms.
"Technically yes—but I have no money right now. I'll handle it after finding Kaito."
Conan raised an eyebrow. "You're planning to extort him?"
Yang Tao nodded confidently. "Black on black is a fine tradition—mustn't discard it."
"I could buy you a motorcycle if you need one," he added, but instantly regretted it—the brightness in Conan's eyes was almost blinding.
"Almost forgot—you parents probably send you allowance monthly, right?"
"Not much… just enough for a bike. Ah—look, is that the tunnel to Level 2?"
Yang Tao eyed Conan nervously. "Conan, I smell a lie… and that topic shift was far too abrupt. Level 2's entrance… holy crap—it really is!"
The tunnel emerging in the abandoned warehouse differed from other corridors: pipes lined its length, incandescent lights illuminating a seemingly endless stretch.
"We'll postpone the motorcycle discussion. First, Level 2. But I fear we may be separated upon entry, so I'll scout ahead alone first."
A single-use door key cost 15 energy points; if they were split, returning the two would cost 40, while sending them back first only 20. Yang Tao calculated carefully.