Xie Qing managed to evade the giant axe man’s pursuit by changing into an employee uniform. He took a brief moment to rest and wanted to stand up immediately, but the wardrobe was too cramped, and, being so tall, he found it difficult to rise, so he simply rolled out of the wardrobe.

Just as he had rolled onto the floor, someone suddenly fell from the air without any warning. Xie Qing immediately turned sideways and pressed himself against the wall, narrowly avoiding the impact.

The person’s head looked like a smashed watermelon, his features barely discernible. The shattered skull slowly twisted, and half of an eyeball, having fallen out of its socket, stared at Xie Qing.

The red uniform on the fallen comrade, who had come crashing down from the sky, was streaked with half-dried blood, and a strong, metallic scent of blood emanated from him. His mouth was open in a silent scream; his cavity was empty, and his tongue had been severed.

After searching through the pockets on the corpse, Xie Qing found nothing. Then he grabbed the handle of the wardrobe door and slowly stood up.

As he got up, his vision went black and his right leg buckled; fortunately, he managed to grab the clothes-drying rod inside the wardrobe in time, preventing him from falling directly onto the corpse.

The viewers in the live broadcast room winced in sympathy, recalling how the two broken leg bones had just crashed and scraped against Xie Qing’s calf. Leaning against the wall for a few seconds, his vision gradually returned to normal.

Just moments ago, Room 503 had been completely empty, but now it was piled high with corpses. Xie Qing could hardly find a clear path.

The corpses’ facial features seemed to have been forcibly erased—eyes, ears, and noses all reduced to a smooth blur, leaving only a strikingly red mouth.

The stench of rotting flesh rushed into his nostrils. 

Xie Qing stared at the hellish scene before him, his throat moving involuntarily as his stomach churned violently. 

One thing was certain—the dead bodies were all dressed in the same bright red uniform that he was currently wearing. 

That meant the corpses appearing in Room 503 were most likely hotel employees. 

To confirm this theory, Xie Qing searched the bodies near the door and found several work name tags. They were identical to the one on his right chest—except that his name tag clearly bore the name Xie Qing, while the ones on the corpses were severely worn down, leaving behind only fragments of strokes. 

It shouldn’t be so easy for engraved letters to wear off like this—especially since the metal surface outside the remaining strokes was perfectly smooth, showing no signs of normal wear and tear. 

Looking around, the freshest corpse among them was the one that had fallen from above. 

Its name tag was pinned to the left side of its chest, caked in blood. Xie Qing wiped it off on his own uniform. 

The name on it read: Dong Ji. 

“Dong Ji…” Xie Qing’s eyes flickered as he pulled the staff schedule from his pocket for a closer look. The employee who disappeared from today’s schedule—wasn’t his name Chen Wen? 

Could the unnatural erosion of employee name tags be a sign that the employees themselves were being consumed by the hotel?

Xie Qing pressed his temples, a dull ache spreading through his head. A deeper, more unsettling pain twisted in his chest and abdomen, as if his internal organs were tearing apart, pushing him into a state of dizzying nausea. 

A hotel manual lay open on the desk. Supporting himself against the wall, Xie Qing moved toward it. The corpses strewn across the floor had completely ruined the delicate embroidery on his silk slippers. 

The exterior of the manual was no different from the one he had seen before, but the contents were vastly different. 

The real-world version of the hotel manual contained no mention of the hot springs. However, this version not only detailed the healing effects of the springs but also included newspaper clippings on the third page, reporting on the wellness hot spring: 

“A couple and daughter visiting their son tragically died in a car accident. The daughter miraculously survived with multiple fractures. The Zhong siblings dropped out of school to revive the family business. Zhong Aijia fully recovered from fractures thanks to the mountaintop’s miraculous hot spring…”

“The Health Spa Hotel rises to fame, dominating the industry.”

“Reporter Su Ailing stays at the Health Spa Hotel for a firsthand experience. The hot spring’s effects are truly remarkable. The rooftop garden hot spring is a masterpiece, offering a breathtaking view of the mountain’s lush greenery and rolling clouds.”

One of the articles included a photograph of the Zhong siblings with the reporter. A caption beneath it read: 

“Manager Zhong Aiguo, Deputy Manager Zhong Aijia, and reporter Su Ailing pose for a photo at the hotel entrance.”

Zhong Aiguo looked much younger in the photo, and his sister bore a striking resemblance to him. The last person was naturally the reporter—a sharp and professional-looking young woman.

The next half-page provided a brief summary of the region’s local folklore. It was said that this place was home to a deity who governed both darkness and abundance—one whose eyes were blacker than the deepest night. Those who worshiped with unwavering devotion would earn the deity’s favor.

Immediately after, the manual issued a stern warning against feudal superstitions. However, for those interested in such legends, the hotel’s library on each floor offered relevant books and art pieces for guests to explore.

“He?”

If Xie Qing remembered correctly, both the mission prompt and the hotel’s previous descriptions referred to the deity of darkness and abundance as a goddess.

The following pages had been torn out. Judging from the table of contents, the missing pages contained the hotel’s layout map.

Further on, he found the hotel’s service numbers. The content and phone numbers were exactly the same as those he had seen before. The last page, however, was odd—there were no guest regulations or employee guidelines. It simply ended with the normal cover of a hotel manual.

Xie Qing tore out the photo of the reporter and the Zhong siblings, considered for a moment, then pulled open the drawstring mouth of his red blessing pouch and stuffed the photo inside.

The red pouch squirmed and twisted in resistance. Xie Qing yanked the string tight and tied several knots. The pouch instantly deflated, shuddering lightly as if… crying.

The acting manager found this amusing and chuckled.
“Bullying a pouch? You’ve got such a childish side, huh…?”

Ignoring it, Xie Qing shoved the pouch back into his pocket. Leaning against the wall for support, he painfully maneuvered over the corpses and stepped into the bathroom.

The wall’s texture was disgustingly unnatural—sticky, yet oddly elastic, as if it were… breathing.

Thankfully, there was nothing in the bathtub that shouldn’t be there.

Xie Qing turned on his phone’s flashlight and shined it into the faucet, pulling out a single long strand of black hair.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his fingers—the black hair was burrowing into his skin. He didn’t dare yank it out forcefully, afraid it would break off inside. 

Since this hair was hungry for flesh, and there was plenty of flesh lying around, Xie Qing stepped out of the bathroom and pressed his finger against the shattered-headed corpse by the door. 

The strand smelled the blood, writhing excitedly as it slithered toward the corpse’s ruined skull. 

Once the black hair had completely left his finger, Xie Qing immediately exited Room 303.

Glancing back from the hallway, he saw that the room had returned to its original empty state. The overwhelming stench of blood and decay was gone, replaced by the stale, timeworn smell unique to old hotels—a mix of cigarette smoke, sweat, and disinfectant. 

At this moment, 5 minutes and 20 seconds had passed since the mission began. 

Exploration progress: 13%.

Xie Qing then opened Rooms 302 and 301—both were in the same state as 303, with one major difference: each of their beds contained two massive, cocoon-like shapes. 

Inside, shadowy human figures twisted and squirmed.

After thoroughly searching Rooms 302 and 301, his exploration progress increased by a measly 3%. 

It seemed progress wasn’t based on the amount of area explored—rather, it depended on the significance of the discoveries. 

There wouldn’t be too many rooms containing key information in this hotel. 

Based on the information gathered so far, the most valuable places to investigate were likely: 

– The front desk and manager’s office on the first floor

– The butler’s office on the sixth floor

– The library and exhibition room

These locations held the highest potential for uncovering the truth behind this hotel.

If he went to the first floor first, he might not have the strength to climb back up to the sixth. 

In an instant, Xie Qing made his decision—he stepped onto the staircase leading down.

The Axe-holding Man stood at the stairwell entrance but ignored Xie Qing, who was dressed in an employee uniform. 

Xie Qing slowly descended to the first floor. 

Behind him, the acting manager followed with light, effortless steps. His footfalls were eerily silent, not even causing the wooden stairs to creak. 

He gazed at Xie Qing’s back, amused. 

“As expected, he chose the first floor. Smart. But it’s a pity—being too smart for your own good can backfire.”

For most people, the first floor would be the logical choice. But for Xie Qing, it was a trap.

The acting manager could hardly wait to see Xie Qing’s face when he realized he had walked straight into it. 

Such a pretty face… What kind of expression would it make in utter despair?

A strange thirst stirred within him. Not a physical one, but a deep anticipation of something he was eager to witness. 

Meanwhile, Xie Qing kept his eyes sharp as he walked. 

Unlike the hotel they had checked into, this version of the hotel had no library on the first floor. The door where the library should have been was marked with a linen storage room sign. 

Across from Room 101, the restaurant doors were shut tight, locked from the inside. 

Compared to when he was on the fifth floor, even the dullest audience members in the livestream had noticed—Xie Qing’s injuries had worsened significantly. 

His steps had become clumsy, his posture unsteady. 

He was losing his balance.

However, hunger troubled Xie Qing even more than his fractured bones. 

A wave of dizziness struck him once again. He barely managed to control his body, crashing into the front desk chair before collapsing onto the floor. 

A sharp, lightning-like pain exploded in his abdomen, then shot up his spine, stabbing into his brain like an ice pick through his eye sockets. It twisted violently inside his skull, churning his thoughts into a mess of scrambled mush. 

The pain was so unbearable that, for a fleeting moment, his consciousness wavered. 

Cold sweat drenched his skin and eyelashes, making it seem as if he were… crying.

The acting manager crouched down to examine him. 

Even in such agony, Xie Qing was breathtakingly beautiful. 

His delicate skin seemed to drink in the moonlight, standing out as the only source of radiance in this darkened hotel. 

The acting manager stared at his wet eyelashes, then slowly extended a finger— 

He wanted to touch them. 

But just before he could, he abruptly pulled his hand back, pressing his fingertip into his palm instead. 

This strange yearning was almost laughable. 

“Why would I want to touch my food?”

He was going to eat him anyway. 

Meanwhile, Xie Qing was still trapped in excruciating pain. Almost unconsciously, he rubbed his injured leg, as if the motion could bring some relief. 

Then, suddenly, his expression shifted. 

A faint smile appeared on his pale face. 

He pulled up his pant leg, his long, slender fingers searching through the bandages wrapped around his injured leg. 

After a moment, he retrieved— 

Three energy bars. 

And a thin, short knife—the same one Qin Chen had used before.

Qin Chen had actually built a hidden compartment inside the splint. 

He even crafted a makeshift bandage sheath for the small knife. 

— “Who is crying for love? Me!”

— “Qin Chen is truly the best debt collector ever. Strong yet gentle… Wuwuwu, please be kind to my wife. He’s so pitiful.” 

— “They’re perfect together, hehehe.”

Xie Qing quickly devoured the three energy bars. The sugar content worked fast, easing his body’s desperate craving for energy. 

Instead of throwing away the wrappers, he tucked them back into the hidden compartment, then shut his eyes to rest for a moment. 

Even in this state, his mind remained active. 

He pondered— 

The manager was already dead. That much was clear, considering the pursuit mission had been assigned to the acting manager instead. 

Then why had he still triggered the manager’s hostility? 

That made no sense. A bug that massive was unlikely in the game’s task logic. 

Additionally, while the manager had the ability to track him, the acting manager had never shown himself since Xie Qing entered this space. 

This suggested that the acting manager didn’t have full access to the manager’s abilities. If he appeared too soon, it would expose his limitations—which was probably why he deliberately avoided chasing Xie Qing. 

Or, perhaps— 

From the very beginning, the pursuit mission wasn’t really about the manager at all. 

Which meant… 

Xie Qing’s eyes slowly opened.

Perhaps… the acting manager was watching him at this very moment. 

Perhaps… the acting manager had already set up a death trap just for him. 

The acting manager silently studied those blue-gray eyes before him. 

He had never seen such beautiful eyes before—eyes that seemed to hold the entire universe within them. 

For the first time, he felt reluctant to devour Xie Qing. 

A soul of this caliber… Simply eating it would be a disgraceful waste. 

— What is Xie Qing thinking right now?

— Has he realized that the first floor is a trap? 

Trap or not, it didn’t matter.

Xie Qing’s lips slowly curved upward. 

He thrived on the thrill of dancing on the edge of a blade. 

He craved the unexpected danger. 

Because danger was his own personal drug. 

As soon as he regained a bit of strength, he immediately began searching through the front desk. 

The setup looked nearly identical to the real-world hotel, except the appliances appeared older.

Next to the monitor, a poster displayed the “Health Spa Hotel Employee Code of Conduct.” 

1. Guests are our livelihood. 

Avoid guest complaints.

2. This hotel has no elevator.

3.  This hotel has no hot springs. 

4. Do not enter the manager’s office.

5. Welcome to becoming a permanent member of our hotel.

“Welcome to becoming a permanent member of our hotel.”

At that moment, Xie Qing suddenly recalled the eerie sights in the third-floor rooms— 

The walls were strangely elastic. 

The corpses, their faces were blurred beyond recognition. 

The erased names, looked as if they had been wiped away by something unseen. 

And then, he understood. 

Inside the front desk cabinet, he found guest check-in records and employee schedules— 

dating all the way back to April 2002. 

Xie Qing flipped through them so fast that even the live stream viewers couldn’t keep up. 

—“Damn, is he using quantum speed-reading or what?”

He focused on the records for rooms 303, 302, and 301. 

As expected, employee and guest names overlapped to an uncanny degree. 

Five years ago, Chen Wen had checked into room 303 as a guest. 

Other guest names also matched the faded employee nametags from earlier. 

“This is… digestion.” 

Xie Qing muttered to himself. 

He and Qin Shen had speculated that employees must be consumed in some way— 

Otherwise, after so many years, the hotel should be overflowing with converted employees. 

Now, all the clues lined up perfectly, pointing to a single conclusion— 

“The rooms are the hotel’s stomach. The employees are its food. 

What I saw on the third floor was the digestion process.” 

“The biggest boss in this hotel… isn’t the manager.” 

“It’s the hotel itself.”

As soon as Xie Qing finished speaking, the nightmare dispel rate, which had been stagnant, suddenly shot up. 

[Current Nightmare Dispel Rate: 21%. You have made history. Please continue your efforts and enjoy the game.]

The audience had long known that the Health Spa Hotel was a one-day instance, and the Nightmare Dispel Rate had never exceeded 3% before. The live chat exploded instantly. 

“As expected of my husband, I’m so proud.”

“As expected of my wife! Wife is number one in the world! Sending love +521.” 

“Even though my wife’s shop only sells love potions, I still have to send some love. Love +233.”

Hearing the sound of love points rolling in, Xie Qing silently opened the shop and took a look. The shop’s inventory had been updated again, still filled with an array of small bottles. 

[Miracle Beauty Serum: A-grade item. Can improve skin quality and complexion. Comes in various flavors, provides a powerful sense of fullness, and contains zero calories—an excellent choice for weight loss and beauty.] 

Xie Qing: “…” 

This damn system was definitely targeting him!