“Take a good look at this environment. The dining table, the guests, the phonograph, and the food—there is nothing else here. Clues won't just materialize out of thin air. Since we can't find them, we have to ask for them!”
He spoke with excitement, clearly convinced that his deduction was correct.
The response from the table was a cold sneer.
Kyle curled his lips. “You Dragon Country people—can you say anything useful besides just guessing?”
Cheng Shuili glanced at Kyle, her tone as flat as if she were commenting on the weather: “At least we dare to guess and dare to take action. And you? You only dare to put down your knife and fork when it’s safe, and only show your lack of intelligence when things get dangerous?”
“You…!”
Kyle’s face flushed with rage, like a boiled lobster, yet he dared not actually make a move.
After all, the headless former colleague was still lying there, and the visual impact was far too intense.
Who knew if this woman might suddenly turn on the players?!
After all, there were no rules stating that players couldn’t kill each other.
The more he thought about it, the uglier his expression became.
The eyes of everyone at the table were on him. Seeing him so resentful yet forced to remain submissive, they couldn’t help but exchange knowing smiles.
The female teammate from Panshi’s squad who had been saved by Cheng Shuili looked at her with shining eyes. She whispered to her companion, “Crow’s tongue is just as sharp as her blade…”
The farce barely subsided. Just as Panshi gave a light cough, intending to continue the discussion or perhaps start an experiment, the headless attendant’s corpse on the ground began to flicker like a faulty lightbulb.
The anomaly here instantly drew everyone’s attention.
A few seconds later, the corpse transformed into specks of dark red light and dissipated into the air. At the same time, a small, scarlet scrap of material with a unique texture drifted slowly to the ground.
“What is that?”
“Did it drop loot?!”
Cheng Shuili bent down to pick up the scrap, which felt slightly cool to the touch.
She unfolded it and saw a line written in twisted golden letters:
【Attendants do not lie. Their duty is to ensure guests are immersed in the pleasure of the feast, and when necessary, to act as a blade to eliminate discordant sounds!】
On the back of the scrap was a simple line drawing of a smiling face wearing a top hat.
Cheng Shuili handed the card to Hao Hao and fell into deep thought.
What did this mean?
Did it mean the guest Cheng Shuili had just killed was indeed an attendant? And if “attendants do not lie,” did that imply “guests might lie,” or perhaps that guests could simply disguise themselves as attendants?
“Attendants do not lie?” Hao Hao leaned in, whispering the words on the scrap. A hint of doubt flickered in her amber eyes. “Does that mean guests… or rather, some guests, are capable of lying?”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but since everyone present was a player with keen senses, they instantly grasped the key point.
Panshi’s expression turned solemn. “It seems determining one’s own identity isn’t such a simple matter.”
His gaze fell on Cheng Shuili, his suspicion growing. Now, he was actually inclined to believe she had entered the dungeon as a duo; no matter how one looked at it, she seemed to possess that kind of strength.
To describe her as both bold and meticulous would be an understatement.
Panshi stopped dwelling on that and turned to chew over the words on the card.
“Attendants don’t lie? This means we might be able to pry true clues from them, but only if we can withstand the consequences of angering them, and… possess the strength to handle their counterattacks, like Miss Crow.”
His words were both a lament and a warning.
Cheng Shuili being able to take down an attendant with one strike didn’t mean everyone else could.
Rashly imitating her would likely lead to death.
Kyle’s expression shifted several times. Looking at the long blade in Cheng Shuili’s hand—which clearly wasn’t an ordinary weapon—he ultimately swallowed the mockery on his tongue, merely snorting and turning his head away.
“So, do we now have a relatively safe way to verify our identities?” The female teammate from Panshi’s squad who had been saved by Cheng Shuili sounded a bit excited, already turning her head as if intending to try it herself.
“Safe?” Her teammate, a man who looked quite composed, repeated the word and suddenly raised his eyes to look at Cheng Shuili. “What we need to do now is figure out which of these guests are guests, and which are attendants. And… whether killing these guests will cause any problems.”
Cheng Shuili handed the scrap to Hao Hao for safekeeping and put away Night Hunt.
Her expression remained calm. “The method is yours. Whether you use it or not is up to you.”
Her voice was cold, carrying an indifference that suggested the matter had nothing to do with her.
The words were unpleasant, but they were the truth.
Everyone present was a player who had been filtered through life-and-death situations; no one had an obligation to protect others.
Hao Hao stayed close to Cheng Shuili, her eyes filled with the conviction that “the expert is awesome, I’m sticking with her.”
Before anyone could make a choice, the eerie music from the phonograph suddenly changed.
The rhythm of the music became more frantic, faintly laced with a hint of… urgency?
The guests at other tables, who had previously been eating quietly, all paused in unison.
Then, with a speed that was extremely slow yet carried a certain rhythm, they turned their necks in perfect synchronization, their hollow, pitch-black eyes refocusing on the players’ table.
This time, their gaze wasn’t directed at any specific individual, but at… all the players!
An invisible, suffocating pressure spread like a tide.
“What’s going on?”
“This doesn’t feel good.”
“Something’s wrong…” Panshi’s expression was heavy. He whispered, “Quick! Keep smiling! Pick up your cutlery!”
He didn’t need to remind them; the players were already scrambling to force out what they considered the most “joyful” smiles, gripping their knives and forks again, even if they were only pretending to cut the air.
Cheng Shuili sat back in her seat, her movements perfectly meeting the requirements of the Faceless Jester, though her gaze scanned the entire banquet hall before finally settling on the round table in the center where the phonograph sat.
If the phonograph were broken, what would happen then?
“The feast… requires joy…”
A slick, cold voice appeared once more—it was the Faceless Jester, returned!
Its figure was like a ghost, reappearing silently in the shadows of the head seat. The corners of its red smile seemed even more upturned than before, carrying a bone-chilling sense of satisfaction.
“It seems… a few interesting little interludes have occurred among the guests.”
Its gaze seemed to sweep over Cheng Shuili, or perhaps it didn’t, but it ultimately landed on the spot where the attendant Cheng Shuili had killed had disappeared.
It modulated its tone as if reciting poetry: “A diligent attendant… has vanished. How truly regrettable.”
Every player’s heart jumped into their throat.
It knew!
Was it going to avenge that attendant?
Cheng Shuili tightened her grip on her table knife, her body slightly tense.
If this monster dared to make a move, she wouldn’t mind testing whether the “rule-monsters cannot be killed by players” hint from Insight was absolute!
Her body was prepared for battle, but Cheng Shuili’s emotions were as steady as ever.
She hadn’t violated any rules, and even killing this attendant had been on the edge of “self-defense.”
The probability of the Faceless Jester acting wasn’t zero, but it certainly wasn’t high.
Sure enough, a moment later, it simply spread its hands elegantly.
The slick voice carried a hint of hypocritical sadness: “Maintaining the harmony of the feast requires a price. However… a tolerant host will not blame you for this. After all… a little vitality is also part of the joy.”
It changed its tone, the voice suddenly becoming high-pitched and seductive: “But! The feast cannot consist only of quiet dining! The dance floor is ready, and the music has begun… honored guests, it is time to show your… passion!”
【Feast Phase Two Begins: The Never-Ending Ball!】
【Rule Prompt:】
【1. Please dance to the rhythm of the music.】
【2. Refusing an invitation is impolite.】
【3. Smile! Smile! Smile!】
The moment the system prompt fell, the guests at the surrounding tables stood up in unison!
Wearing stiff, standard smiles, they paired up and slid into the open space between the tables with movements that were eerie yet perfectly synchronized with the music!
That area had, at some point, turned into a dance floor covered in a dark red carpet!
The long table where the players sat also began to emit a slight “clacking” sound, and along with the chairs, it was pushed toward the periphery by an invisible force, clearing more space for the dance floor.
“Dancing?! Are you kidding me!”
Kyle couldn’t help but curse under his breath, the forced smile on his face nearly distorting.
“Keep smiling! Kyle!” his teammate reminded him urgently.
The members of the Panshi squad quickly exchanged glances, all seeing the gravity in each other’s eyes.
Dancing?
Among them, people who had fought on the edge of life and death, who knew how to dance?
If they danced incorrectly, wouldn’t they be finished?
This damn dungeon!
Cheng Shuili frowned.
She was good at fighting, but dancing… this touched upon her blind spot.
She would rather go and slash a few more attendants.
Hao Hao swallowed nervously, whispering, “Expert, what do we do? Do you know how to dance?”
Cheng Shuili was expressionless: “I only know one kind of dance.”
“What kind?”
“The kind those old ladies in the square do—does that count?”
Hao Hao: “…”
She felt it probably didn’t count, but it seemed there was no other way.
The players hadn’t yet begun to move their bodies, while the guests who had already entered the dance floor began to walk toward the players after completing a basic circle of dance steps!
They wore the same eerie, unchanging smiles, extended hands that were either pale or covered in strange spots, and made standard invitation gestures.
A female attendant wearing a tattered court gown, her skin looking as if it had been bloated by water, walked straight toward Cheng Shuili, curtsied slightly, and extended that bloated hand.
Another male attendant, dressed in butler-like attire with an unnaturally twisted neck, issued an invitation to Hao Hao.
The same scene was happening in front of every player!
Refusing an invitation meant violating Rule Number Two! The consequences were predictable.
And accepting?
Who knew what would happen after the dance? Would they be assimilated like the player who ate the meat?
It was another dilemma.
“Can’t refuse! The rules explicitly state you can’t refuse!”
Panshi growled, standing up first. He flashed a smile that looked worse than crying at the attendant inviting him, then stiffly extended his hand.
With him taking the lead, the other players had no choice but to bite the bullet and accept the invitations.
Cheng Shuili looked at the bloated hand in front of her, her eyes cold.
She extremely loathed this kind of uncontrolled contact.
“Expert…” Hao Hao’s voice carried a hint of tears. The butler-attendant in front of her had a smile that stretched to his earlobes, as if urging her.
The Faceless Jester stood in the shadow of the head seat, that red smile seemingly mocking them in silence.
Cheng Shuili took a deep breath, suppressing the dissatisfaction in her heart.
Rules… it was these damn rules again!
She slowly stood up. Instead of touching that disgusting hand, she just looked coldly at the female attendant and then raised her own arm, performing an extremely perfunctory “please” gesture.
The female attendant didn’t seem to care about her rudeness, maintaining her smile and beginning to dance.
The music clamored in her ears. Surrounded by dancing pairs spinning around, the players were forced to follow the eerie rhythm, moving their feet clumsily and stiffly.
Cheng Shuili’s “dance moves” were less like dancing and more like a kind of defensive, guarded maneuvering.
She avoided unnecessary contact with the attendant as much as possible, her footsteps relying entirely on catching the rhythm and her own powerful body control. While there was no aesthetic beauty to speak of, at least… she didn’t make any obvious mistakes.
Hao Hao’s situation was much more precarious; she nearly stepped on the butler’s feet several times or failed to keep up with the rhythm, her face turning pale with fear, relying entirely on a strong will to survive to hold on.
Kyle was even more flustered, nearly tripping himself, which drew his partner—a guest wearing a clown costume with colorful oil constantly dripping from his nose—into emitting strange, cackling laughter, seemingly mocking his clumsiness.
Cheng Shuili enjoyed his expression for a moment before withdrawing her gaze.
It was truly laughable.
The entire dance floor was like a terrifying pantomime of demons run amok.
If this continued, it wouldn’t end well; players would inevitably make mistakes.
Making a mistake seemed to be a red line—a red line that would cost them their lives.
Her gaze once again turned toward the central phonograph.
As her body spun in a circle, Cheng Shuili suddenly realized something unusual: why was the shadow of that phonograph swaying gently with the melody?
She withdrew her gaze, then suddenly looked back at it.
【Insight successful!】
【Feast Phonograph】
【Description: A very rare, magical mimic monster! It loves music and can perfectly imitate music played by a phonograph. When it reaches a track it likes, its body will sway gently with the melody. It is harmless in itself, but often appears in horror dungeons to assist in evil! They are very timid and will never make a sound again once discovered.】
【Weakness: Threatening it a few times is fine, but don’t actually break it.】
Cheng Shuili: “…”
Rate on N.U.
