This looked like the scene of some evil, profane ritual.
On the ground was a circular magic circle drawn with some kind of black filth.
Numerous intricate lines converged here, outlining bizarre patterns that flanked a central stone pedestal—the very spot where Wu Shuang was standing.
As for what effect the magic circle had, or what the symbols and characters on it meant, Wu Shuang had no idea; it simply felt obscure and mysterious.
After observing it for a moment and confirming there was no danger, he raised his lantern to inspect the rest of the area. Shining the light back and forth and taking a full look around, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
There were no living corpses, and the corpse on the stone platform was dead through and through, showing no signs of reanimation.
Aside from this ritual site, the rest of the space contained only normal furniture, containers, and miscellaneous items, along with a few dismembered body parts that were likely meant for the ritual. There was nothing else—not even a proper bed, since the ritual magic circle occupied nearly two-thirds of the cellar's floor area.
Wu Shuang ignored these items. Once he confirmed the area was safe, he immediately opened his handbook to check his physical condition.
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Humanity: 97, Color: Red
Health: 81%
Stamina: 37%
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His Humanity had already fallen below 100.
The lingering throbbing pain in his brain and the sense of detachment earlier likely stemmed from this—a warning to himself that things had already become extremely dangerous.
His health wasn't a major concern for now, as most of the damage had been blocked by his shield. However, the shield seemed cracked and likely couldn't be used much longer.
He checked the chat room, and as expected, the chat function was disabled, frozen at 10:47 PM—which was likely when darkness had descended.
This time, darkness had fallen before 11:00 PM, leaving Wu Shuang in a miserable plight.
While he was checking his handbook, he caught the sound of rustling footsteps coming from above. Since there was more than one entity, he couldn't pinpoint their exact locations, but there were clearly quite a few.
It was the frenzied living corpses from the town. They had tracked him here, arriving only a moment behind him.
If Wu Shuang hadn't managed to hide inside a room or cover by now... the consequences would be unimaginable. Thank goodness he had found the cellar.
He moved cautiously, making sure not to make a sound as he dimmed his lantern to the lowest setting to prevent the light from drawing trouble.
Darkness continued to seep into and erode the cellar. Oil-like shadows crept across the ceiling, dripping down before dissolving in the lantern's flame.
Wu Shuang began loading his weapon, inserting his last two bullets and replacing the percussion cap. Raising the gun toward the cellar entrance, he prepared to fire at a moment's notice. He could feel the living corpses terrifyingly close, right above his head, to the point where he could even hear their beastly panting.
These two bullets were his final trump card, but firing them meant death regardless—there was no way two bullets could wipe out all the living corpses. In fact, saving them for himself might be a better choice...
Wu Shuang shook his head, casting aside the dark thought, and maintained his stance, keeping a tight watch on the entrance stairs.
【Warning: Your Humanity is draining...】
Wu Shuang frowned slightly, but since lighting the lantern also consumed Humanity, he didn't pay it too much mind.
What he didn't realize, however, was that tiny red particles were floating out from his heels and merging into the magic circle, causing the entire array to emit a pitch-black glow—though against the backdrop of darkness, it went completely unnoticed.
Meanwhile, inside the fish-shaped skull of the corpse lying on the stone platform, specks of red fire flickered into life, matching the exact color of Wu Shuang's draining Humanity.
...
He wasn't sure how much time had passed.
"Oh right, I think I picked up a red chest earlier that I haven't opened yet. Maybe it'll help turn things around."
Wu Shuang suddenly remembered the chest, which he had almost forgotten about.
But just as he pulled out the handbook again, preparing to inspect and open it, he felt as if something was standing behind him, blocking the light.
When he turned his head to look, his hair stood on end. It was that dead body! The damn thing had actually stood up and was standing silently beside him, its body a pieced-together mess of bones and rotted limbs, with specks of red light glowing inside its fish-shaped skull.
"Fuck!"
Jolt-startled into a reflexive reaction, Wu Shuang slammed his shield right into it, smashing the inexplicable creature into a mess of scattered bones and shredded flesh that flew everywhere, even shattering several containers. Only two legs of mismatched length and thickness remained standing in place, though they collapsed a moment later.
The creature was unexpectedly fragile, practically falling apart at a touch, but it had scared Wu Shuang out of his wits by making absolutely no sound as it walked.
But right after killing the thing, Wu Shuang realized trouble was brewing—he had made too much noise!
He immediately shot a look toward the cellar entrance, his heart sinking straight to his stomach.
Sure enough, within seconds, he heard rapid footsteps approaching, followed by a violent pounding against the cellar door. More than one living corpse had rushed over, slamming and throwing themselves against the door.
"Fuck!"
Wu Shuang cursed angrily. Glancing left and right, he dumped his backpack onto the floor and grabbed whatever clutter he could find—chairs, shovels, wooden crates—rushing up to brace the flimsy door.
One of the wooden crates was filled with precious metal jewelry made of gold and silver—rings, necklaces, bracelets, and the like—but right now, they were as useless as scrap paper, completely worthless.
In the end, Wu Shuang leaned his own body against the barricade, knowing that if the door gave way, he was dead. He had opened the Bronze Chest too, but it yielded a fucking spiked copper shield—what bloody good was that? It didn't help one bit.
The door bolt had already cracked, and the hastily grabbed shovel was barely holding on. It was only a matter of time before the door broke; there were at least seven or eight living corpses outside.
Was he really going to die like this in the end, all because of a tiny mishap...?
Wu Shuang looked over at the collapsed, cobbled-together corpse, feeling absurdly ridiculous that he might die right here.
Next time, he would never leave such bizarre things unchecked—if there even was a next time...
He looked down at the Argus in his hands, bracing himself for the worst.
But right at that moment, the pounding on the door abruptly stopped. It was so sudden that it ceased almost simultaneously.
And immediately following it were all-too-familiar heavy footsteps—the goblin!
The creature had indeed been drawn here by the noise, its pace rapid.
The living corpses seemed to be scattering and running frantically, terrified of this significantly stronger monster.
Wu Shuang held his breath, not daring to move an inch. Listening to the goblin's footsteps, he felt it catch something before stopping right in front of the cellar entrance—barely two or three meters away from him. He could even clearly hear loud chewing sounds, teeth grinding against bones and crunching through them.
A living corpse had been caught; the goblin was feeding.
Wu Shuang maintained complete silence the entire time, not even moving back down the stairs. Standing like a dead object, he worried that any extra movement would draw the creature's attention.
He was gambling—gambling that the goblin had no interest in the cellar because it couldn't get inside, and that once it ate enough living corpses, it would leave.
Otherwise, if it smashed the door open, whether it caught Wu Shuang or not, it would mean death for him, as his only shelter would be gone and he had no other place to hide from the darkness.
Roughly thirty seconds passed, though to Wu Shuang, it felt as excruciatingly long as a year.
Even when the heavy footsteps started up again, Wu Shuang still didn't dare breathe heavily, maintaining silence until the footsteps faded into the distance and were barely audible. Only then did he finally gasp for air, his clothes thoroughly drenched in sweat as if he had just taken a bath.
Rate on N.U.
