Rainwater seeped through the crack beneath the door, pooling into small puddles on the floor that mirrored the swaying bulb above. The flickering orange light cast long, trembling shadows across the room. A red trash bin in the corner was smeared with black stains of unknown origin, the red floral patterns on the curtains resembled congealed blood, and even the wooden desk bore tiny red speckles embedded in its grain. Room No. 10 looked as if it had been steeped in diluted blood, oppressive enough to suffocate.
Lin Ye leaned against the door, the faint warmth of the door talisman still lingering at his cuff. His heartbeat hadn't fully calmed after the earlier chaos. Lowering his gaze, he looked at his phone screen. The live broadcast's popularity was still climbing—over three million viewers from twenty-seven civilizations, with the viewership value soaring past 1,800. Bullet comments rained down in a storm, with words from different languages automatically translated into Blue Star's common tongue.
[Blue Star Viewer 089]: That big guy just died so horribly! Anchor, you're way too calm—if it were me, I'd be paralyzed with fear!
[Zeta Civilization Viewer "Stardust"]: That was a precise move—talisman duration, water ghost attack priority… Your sensitivity to rules far surpasses a novice. Have you experienced this before?
[Guided Comment (Red)]: Warning! Player Lin Ye has triggered Level-1 Rule Fog. Subsequent rule annotations may contain intermittent errors. Exercise caution when relying on "Rule Perception."
[Machine Race Viewer "001"]: Energy residue detected on the talisman. Recommend preserving remnants—they may be useful for crafting anti–water ghost tools.
[Prophecy Comment (Corrupted)]: □#%￥Sun…light…red…filter…750…
Lin Ye's eyes froze on the "Rule Fog" prompt. His fingertips grew cold. A memory fragment surged up—an indistinct laboratory, a figure in a white coat holding a syringe saying: "Rule Fog is the shackles of spectators. It blinds you to the true rules." The next second, the memory dissolved like ink in rainwater.
"Memory anchors…" He rubbed his aching temples. How many times had he forgotten something important already? Ever since awakening his ability, every use of Rule Perception erased a memory—sometimes childhood details, sometimes recent events. Just now, during his counterattack against the brute, he'd clearly remembered the talisman's ten-minute duration… but now, he couldn't recall how he'd discovered that annotation at all.
His phone suddenly lit up with a system prompt:
[Viewership Value Reached 1500: "Basic Item Exchange Library" Unlocked. View now?]
Lin Ye tapped "Yes." A list appeared: Tactical Flashlight (500 points), Waterproof Matches (300 points), Compressed Biscuits (200 points)… Each item had "Remarks" indicating usage restrictions or backlash clauses. For instance, the biscuits read: "Cannot drink apartment rainwater within 12 hours after consumption, or vomiting occurs." The matches: "Ignition attracts 1–2 damp bugs."
"All traps." Lin Ye sneered. Of course spectators wouldn't let survival be easy—every tool hid pitfalls. His eyes lingered on Tactical Flashlight. Its note—"adjustable wavelength"—reminded him of Su Qingyue's diary. He opened the details:
Tactical Flashlight (Normal): Range 10m. Switchable red/green/white/filter modes. Binds to player upon exchange, non-tradable. Backlash: attracts damp bugs (small, non-lethal creatures that chew clothing/items).
"Adjustable wavelength…" Lin Ye's gaze lifted to the red pen on the desk. Rule 2's annotation surfaced again: "Red = visible light wavelength 620–750nm." If he filtered that wavelength out, might red objects reveal what lay beneath?
He was about to exchange it when the diary in his pocket quivered faintly—not a physical vibration, but a resonance within his mind. Hastily, Lin Ye pulled it out. The faded cover seemed clearer now, the name "Su Qingyue" sharper, as though responding to his thoughts.
Sitting at the dusty desk, he carefully opened the diary. The first page's warning he already knew: "Beware the Administrator—what she seeks isn't food, but your life." The second page was a hand-drawn map: ten floors, ten rooms each, staircases on both sides. Floor 1 marked as lobby/kitchen; Floor 10 labeled "Administrator's Room," crossed out in red. Rooms on Floors 3–9 mostly marked "Danger." Only Room 203 bore a tiny key symbol.
The third page was rushed and messy:
"Red things deceive. I shone my phone flashlight on the pen—there's a note inside, but only with the right color. Administrator comes at 8 a.m. daily for food. She sniffs it. If not fresh, water ghosts follow you. A freak in a black raincoat lurks in the kitchen—don't approach his shelf."
Lin Ye's heart jolted. A phone flashlight! Su Qingyue had tried decoding red objects too! Immediately, he tested with his phone. White light—nothing. Night mode—pen color paled, but unchanged.
"Needs a specific wavelength…" He eyed the Tactical Flashlight again. He had just enough points. Without hesitation, he redeemed it. A matte black flashlight materialized in his hand, with four buttons: "Red," "Green," "White," "Filter."
At that instant, a rustle came from the corner. Black bugs, fingernail-sized, crawled from the cracks—shimmering damply, swarming toward the flashlight.
"So fast." Lin Ye quickly turned it off. The bugs slowed but didn't retreat, circling as if searching for the light. Remembering the match note, he dared not use fire.
Pushing them back into the corner, he returned to the diary. The fourth page read:
"The key blank is in three parts: one in Room 203, one in the 5F ventilation duct, the last in the Administrator's apron pocket. Don't trust those in red—they are 'shadows of the rules.'"
"Shadows of the rules?" Lin Ye frowned. No red-clad people seen yet. Other players… or the Administrator? He recalled the old woman in gray apron—though her basket was covered with a red cloth.
The fifth page was blank. The sixth bore only a scratched-out line: "Lin Ye, don't come for me, the rules—" The rest was torn away. His fingertip brushed the jagged edge, and a sharp pang shot through his chest, as if something precious had been lost in those missing words.
"Su Qingyue…" he murmured. Another memory fragment flickered: a rain-soaked corridor, the girl shoving the diary into his hands, whispering "This is the only clue." Then running into darkness, water ghosts shrieking behind her. This time, the vision was vivid—her white dress stained with blood.
"She was here too…" Lin Ye gripped the diary, realizing: Su Qingyue might have been a prior player, perhaps like him—a "Rule Orphan." These clues were her lifeline left behind.
Just then: Knock, knock, knock. Gentle, rhythmic knocking at the door—unlike the brute earlier.
Lin Ye moved to the peephole. Outside stood an elderly woman in a gray apron, white-haired, smiling kindly. She held a bamboo basket covered with red cloth. Oddly, though she stood in the rain-filled corridor, no splash rose at her feet—she seemed to float atop the water.
"Still awake, young man?" Her voice was warm, grandmotherly, carrying dampness of rain. "I'm the Administrator. I brought you a food basket. Tomorrow at 8, don't forget to place fresh food inside."
Lin Ye's nerves tightened. The Administrator… She's here. He didn't open the door. Instead, he asked, "What's inside the basket? Why bring it now?"
The old woman chuckled. "Nothing valuable, just three empty plates and a note explaining fresh food. I came now so you won't be rushed tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't enter—just leaving it here."
Lin Ye scrutinized her. Her hands, gnarled as bark, held the basket steady, without tremor. Her eyes were brown—yet in the dim hall, faint red gleams shimmered like a cat's.
"How did you know I was in this room?" he pressed. "So many players here—do you deliver to everyone?"
She paused slightly, then smiled again. "I can't remember all the players. But your light was on, so I came. I'll deliver to the others tomorrow."
Lie. Lin Ye sneered inwardly. His room light had been off—only his phone glowed, invisible from outside. She'd pinpointed his room deliberately.
Feigning compliance, he said: "Thanks, Auntie. I'll open now." He gripped the flashlight, finger on "Filter," ready to unleash damp bugs if she forced entry.
He cracked the door. Rain streamed in, soaking his cuffs. The old woman handed him the basket, the red cloth brushing his skin—chilling, as though dredged from icy water.
"Remember—8 a.m. sharp. Any later, not good." Her eyes glowed brighter.
He seized the basket, shut and bolted the door instantly. Her footsteps faded—eerily light, without splashing water.
"Wrong." Lin Ye set the basket on the desk, lifted the cloth—three spotless porcelain plates, gleaming as if brand new. A folded note lay atop.
Opening it: "Fresh food standard: produced within 24 hours, no spoilage or odor, or the water ghost will 'walk with you' all day~" A smiley face at the end twisted into mockery.
"Within 24 hours…" Lin Ye frowned. Food here was either carried in by players or scavenged from the kitchen. How could freshness be verified? And Su Qingyue's diary warned: the raincoat freak guarded the kitchen.
Suddenly, he recalled the brute's words—"Compressed biscuits from the kitchen." He checked the broadcast replay. Sure enough, the packaging timestamp read June 14, 2024. Today was the 15th—just within 24 hours!
"There's hope." Relief washed over him, but tension returned fast. The biscuits might be scarce, the kitchen dangerous. And tomorrow at 8, he needed fresh food ready—or else risk others' rations. Rule 3 hadn't forbidden taking from others… was robbery an option?
At that moment, his Tactical Flashlight lit itself—in "Filter" mode. Purple light bathed the red pen. Its shell turned translucent, revealing a hidden note inside!
"Su Qingyue's note!" He carefully drew it out—a thin, transparent slip like cling film, with blue ink: "Under the floorboards of Room 203 lies the first key blank. Don't take the left staircase—water ghosts there mimic voices."
"Key blank!" Lin Ye's pulse raced. The key to escaping the apartment. He tucked the slip into the diary. Plan formed: rest tonight, at dawn raid the kitchen for biscuits, observe the raincoat freak, then after food collection, retrieve the key blank from Room 203.
But Rule 1 forbade opening doors from 22:00–06:00. It was 11:30. What if an attack came during the night?
His gaze fell to the red curtains. Rule 2 forbade touching red. But what if the flashlight revealed hidden secrets?
He shone the purple light. Behind the curtain—a concealed compartment! A wooden panel blended with the wall, invisible without filtered light.
Using a pencil tip, he pried it open. A black box lay inside, sealed with a red button.
"Again, red…" Under the flashlight, the button appeared gray—merely painted red. He pressed it. Click. The box popped open: a black player card labeled:
Player ID: 001. Su Qingyue. Survival Days: 15.
Beside it, a silver ring engraved with the word "Rule."
"Her player card…" The moment he touched it, memories flooded in—
10F of the Rainstorm Apartment. Su Qingyue handing him the card: "Lin Ye, with this you'll see all my clues. The ring is a Rule Anchor—resist the fog. Don't lose it."
"Qingyue!" Lin Ye cried out. The vision sharpened—her white dress bloodied, slashed by the Administrator's blade. In her other hand, a knife engraved "98"—the 98th game cycle.
"So you were a player in Round 98…" He clutched the card, eyes burning. She had been a Rule Setter, dismantling the Rule Core, scattering it as key blanks to defy the spectators. This card was the key.
He slid the ring onto his left index finger. Icy coolness flowed through him. The ache in his temples vanished. Rule 2's annotation grew clearer, with new text: "Administrator's apron pocket contains red pigment. She paints non-red objects red to trick players into breaking Rule 2."
"It works!" He exhaled in triumph.
His phone buzzed. A prophecy bullet:
[□#%￥ Administrator… apron… pigment… 5th floor…]
The diary map said the second key blank was in the 5F vent. If pigment was there too… was the Administrator hunting the blanks?
It was already 12:15. Damp bugs retreated. Flashlight backlash ceased. Lin Ye arranged his clues:
1. Fresh food: Kitchen biscuits within 24h, but guarded by raincoat freak.
2. Key blanks: 1st in Room 203 (use right stair). 2nd in 5F vent. 3rd in Administrator's apron.
3. Administrator's traps: Paints objects red to lure Rule 2 violation. Sniffs food freshness. Summons water ghosts.
4. Tools: Tactical flashlight (filter reveals truth), Rule Anchor ring (resist fog), Su Qingyue's player card (more clues).
5. Threats: Left stair voice-mimicking ghosts. Kitchen raincoat freak. Red-clad "Rule Shadows."
Exhaustion hit him. He dragged a chair to the door, flashlight ready. Outside, rain hammered glass like countless hands.
Sometime later, a woman's wail echoed: "Help… please… my leg was bitten…" From Room 11 next door.
Lin Ye's eyes snapped open. The diary warned of mimicking ghosts. He peered through the peephole—Room 11 ajar, darkness within, sobs spilling out.
Live chat exploded:
[Blue Star 089]: Isn't that the girl bullied earlier? She's in Room 11!
[Zeta Stardust]: Don't go! Diary warned—stairs ghosts mimic voices!
[Guided Comment (Red)]: Player Lin Ye must proceed to Room 11 for rescue. Failure: -100 viewership.
[Prophecy (Corrupted)]: □#%￥ fake… cry… ghost… 11…
Lin Ye's lips curled coldly. Spectators trying to force him. The ring flashed—Rule 1's annotation updated: "Between 22:00–06:00, cries may be lures, especially Rooms 11 & 12—their lair."
"Thought so." He sneered at the door. Raising his phone to the camera, he said: "Viewers, Rule 1 never required rescues. According to my clues, Room 11 is a ghost nest. Going now equals suicide."
He raised his voice: "If you're truly a player—save yourself. No one saves you unconditionally here."
The sobbing halted. Splashing followed, as a shadow slithered out—limbless, like a massive wet worm. A water ghost.
The live chat reeled in shock.
[Blue Star 089]: Damn! Thank god he didn't go! What the hell was that?!
[Zeta Stardust]: +2000 points! Rationality—the rarest skill here.
[Machine 001]: Ghost type confirmed: "Mimicry Water Ghost." Ability: voice mimicry. Speed: 5m/s. Weakness: strong light.
[Guided Comment (Red)]: Player Lin Ye refused rescue. -100 viewership. Current value: 1700.
Lin Ye didn't care. Survival trumped points. It was 2 a.m. He drifted into light sleep.
In his dream—Su Qingyue again: "Lin Ye, find all the key blanks, destroy the Rule Core. Don't let them win…"
"I will," he answered, before jerking awake. Dawn had broken. Rain softened to drizzle. The clock read 5:50. One hour left.
"Time to move." Lin Ye stood, packed the flashlight, card, diary. On the desk, he scribbled: "1F kitchen. Biscuits. Raincoat freak." A note for any friendly survivor.
Through the peephole—corridor clear. He stepped out, heading to the right stair.
Dim green emergency lights cast eerie shadows. His flashlight illuminated footprints—human, and clawed like chickens.
At 1F, clanging sounds came from the lobby. He peeked around the corner.
The hall was flooded. At the kitchen door stood a figure in a black raincoat, back turned, wielding a cleaver, hacking at a red bucket.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Mechanical, repetitive swings.
Heart pounding, Lin Ye crept closer. He had to confirm—the biscuits were inside.
Suddenly, the figure halted. Slowly, it turned…
The raincoat hood was pulled low—