After perusing the rules concealed behind the screens, Ding Yi turned her attention to the wardrobe. Upon opening it, she discovered four neatly hung articles of clothing: a loose-fitting black short-sleeved shirt, light gray loose straight-leg sweatpants, and a set of pure white pajamas.

The bottom of the wardrobe also contained undergarments identical to what she was currently wearing, along with a fresh pair of socks nestled beside them.

A pair of shoes exactly like the ones she had on were placed on the bottom shelf, accompanied by a pair of comfortable house slippers.

Ding Yi: …

Wasn’t this level of excessive preparation almost strange?

Ding Yi frowned, her inner critic briefly surfacing, before finally letting out a sigh.

At the very least, she could change into something clean.

The ensemble she was currently sporting was undeniably too “hip-hop” for her usual taste, and the memory of not having had a proper shower for several days was becoming increasingly unpleasant.

The instant the warm water enveloped her body, Ding Yi felt a wave of complete relaxation wash over her. She closed her eyes, experiencing a fleeting sensation that, when she reopened them, she might find herself back in her small, familiar apartment.

She opened her eyes, yet her immediate surroundings remained the same.

Well, not entirely nothing. At least she had indulged in a wonderfully hot shower, leaving her feeling clean and refreshed from the tips of her hair to the soles of her feet.

Ding Yi dried her hair. The cake she had consumed not long ago now felt like a distant memory, and her stomach was rumbling with persistent hunger.

She began to search the room for the menu mentioned in the rules, but after a thorough exploration, she came up empty-handed. Scratching her head in frustration, her gaze swept over the screen that resembled a television, and then quickly snapped back.

Was that a TV?

A TV seamlessly embedded in the wall?

Curiosity temporarily overshadowed her hunger pangs. Ding Yi walked over to the screen and fumbled with its smooth surface for a moment before successfully turning it on.

The screen illuminated, and after the words “Welcome to the Infinite Hotel” briefly flashed, a dazzling array of dishes materialized before Ding Yi’s eyes.

Ding Yi: …

Okay, okay, her ignorance was showing. Apologies for the momentary confusion.

The displayed menu was remarkably extensive, featuring dishes from every corner of the East, West, North, and South. Even the international cuisine section boasted a surprising number of categories, and the beverage page offered more than a dozen detailed classifications.

Ding Yi ordered a bowl of river snail rice noodles, braised pig’s feet, stewed duck feet, pickled chicken feet, tofu skewers, and marinated eggs. She selected all the available add-ins for each item. After choosing her main courses, she added a peach that looked particularly succulent.

After tapping the “confirm” button, she anticipated having to wait a while for someone to deliver her meal. However, she was surprised when, as soon as the screen displayed the word “Confirmed,” she heard a soft “ding.” An area in the center of the round table sank down, and when it smoothly rose again, the items she had just ordered had ascended with the sunken section.

“Wow.”

“Technology truly does change life.”

After happily satisfying her hunger, Ding Yi decided to venture out for a walk.

Having already encountered the futuristic hospital ward, the enigmatic small black room, and even the room’s automated ordering system, Ding Yi felt a strong surge of curiosity about everything beyond her hotel room door.

The moment the door swung open, she immediately recognized the remarkable soundproofing capabilities it possessed.

A vibrant and energetic atmosphere thrived outside.

The room she was staying in was on the first floor, directly opposite more densely packed hotel rooms. The hallway was as wide as a standard road, or even twice as wide, stretching infinitely to the left and right. Ding Yi couldn’t be certain if this seemingly endless expanse had any actual boundary.

In the center of the aisle, spaced equidistantly from each other, were doors of varying styles and sizes. Ding Yi surmised that the space concealed behind these doors must be twisted and folded like the tool rack she had encountered earlier.

Looking upwards, she was met with what appeared to be a bottomless abyss. All the rooms were arranged in an infinite vertical stack, extending endlessly into the darkness above.

She noticed a distinct pattern: the doors on the opposite side of the hallway were all uniformly black, while the doors on her side were all painted white.

The futuristic and sci-fi-infused scene momentarily caused her to forget to close her mouth in astonishment.

The slight sound of her door closing behind her prompted her to turn back. A palm-sized display screen was now suspended on the metal handle, displaying her photo and name.

She subconsciously turned her head to examine the doorknobs of the two adjacent rooms, but didn’t see the same display screen on either of them.

“Ding Yi!”

A warm embrace enveloped her from behind. Although she instinctively dodged the initial lunge, the person who had pounced on her didn’t give up.

“That’s great,” Jiang Xianqing exclaimed, hooking her arms around Ding Yi’s neck, resting her chin on her shoulder, tears welling up in her eyes. “You hadn’t come back, and there was no response when I knocked on the door. I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

Ding Yi, still slightly dazed by the sudden affection, supported Jiang Xianqing’s waist and subconsciously patted her back in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I lay in the treatment pod for a while, and when I got up, all the injuries on my body were completely healed.”

She was also genuinely happy to see Jiang Xianqing and Yan Ming again.

“Where’s Feng Baiqiu?” Ding Yi inquired.

“Xiaobai is sleeping in her room. During the instance, she basically just closed her eyes for a bit to rest every night.”

Noticing Jiang Xianqing’s earlier statement, Ding Yi asked, “But how did you know I was staying here?”

“After an instance concludes, the survivors are assigned to adjacent rooms. I live to your left, Xiaoming is to your right, and Xiaobai’s room is next to Xiaoming’s. We knocked on the doors one by one, and that’s how we knew you were here.”

It’s just.

Jiang Xianqing and Yan Ming exchanged a meaningful glance but didn’t dare to mention that Qin Yuan wasn’t among the survivors.

The treatment pods here were nothing short of miraculous.

As long as the heart was still beating when the instance ended, regardless of the severity of the injuries, the treatment pod could completely restore them.

That could only mean that Qin Yuan had already ‘died’ before the instance concluded.

They had observed the evident connection between the two in the instance, especially towards the end. They had been so close to success, but they hadn’t anticipated such a formidable individual falling before dawn.

Although Yan Ming hadn’t taken a liking to Qin Yuan at their first meeting, he still felt a pang of regret at his demise and didn’t want to cause Ding Yi any unnecessary sadness.

“I see.” Ding Yi nodded, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. Since Qin Yuan wasn’t a Wisher, he likely wouldn’t reside here.

“But why don’t your rooms have this display screen?” Ding Yi asked, gesturing to the handle of her door.

Yan Ming looked at the air she was pointing towards and explained, “Only you can see the display screen on your door. Other people can’t see it.”

Ding Yi suddenly recalled the rule emphasizing the value of personal privacy.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Yan Ming suggested, his tone enthusiastic. “Let’s go explore a bit. This place is so interesting!”

Ding Yi, who had already harbored a similar inclination, began to wander around the seemingly endless hallways with Yan Ming and Jiang Xianqing.

“The black doors on the opposite side are where the supervisors live.” Yan Ming explained, pointing across the wide corridor.

“They live here too?” Ding Yi asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Yan Ming nodded. “They said it’s to facilitate monitoring the NPCs in Central Avenue, and look at these elevators.”

Ding Yi followed the direction of his pointed finger. The elevators were all-glass, but when people stepped inside, they became completely opaque, obscuring any view of the interior or even which floor they were ascending or descending to.

“Before entering an instance, we have to take the elevator to the designated floor and open the only door. These elevators are not only the way we enter the instance, but also the way the supervisors enter the instance.”

Ding Yi narrowed her eyes, carefully assessing the densely spaced row of elevators. “So those rooms upstairs are uninhabited?”

“Are those all instances?” she mused aloud.

“I don’t know about that,” Yan Ming muttered, a thoughtful expression on his face. “But I’ve been here for so long, and I haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t live on the first floor.”