Fu Yan summoned every last ounce of his strength to reach the doorway, where Sun Hao and Bai Ci grabbed him with their outstretched hands and hauled him inside.
Behind the door lay a narrow, pitch-black passage, with only the faint silhouette of an exit visible in the distance.
Cheng Xi was the last to slip inside. The moment she crossed the threshold, she spun around and, together with Sun Hao, slammed the iron door shut and threw their weight against it.
The heavy thuds against the door lasted for a few minutes before gradually weakening and finally fading into complete silence.
“We're safe for now...” Cheng Xi panted, wiping the sweat from her brow, her voice laced with lingering dread.
Fu Yan braced himself against the wall to stand straight. “We can't linger. We have to keep moving. There's no telling how long this door will hold, and the fire will reach us soon.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Keeping their hands on the walls, they began groping their way forward through the dark passage.
After a few minutes of walking, a faint glimmer of light finally appeared ahead.
They quickened their pace toward the glow, which grew brighter with every step.
The moment they stepped out of the passage, a blast of icy fog rushed over them.
Outside, it was a pitch-black night. A dense, impenetrable fog blanketed the area, reducing visibility to less than a meter, making them feel as if they had stepped into an endless void.
Behind them, the Magnolia Theater stood in stark, burning reality, completely engulfed in flames—the roaring blaze providing the only sound in the area besides their own breathing.
“Where... are we?” Sun Hao looked around, a look of bewilderment on his face. “We made it out? But why is there nothing around us?”
No one answered him; none of them knew the answer.
Bai Ci scanned their surroundings before finally turning to look back.
Behind them, the Magnolia Theater was gradually warping and distorting in the fire. The orange-red flames burned with increasing fury, yet they failed to pierce the surrounding fog, merely casting a glow over the theater's slowly dissolving silhouette.
The once-solid building grew increasingly transparent, fading away like a mirage.
Before long, as the last flicker of flame died out and the final wisp of smoke dispersed, the Magnolia Theater vanished entirely into the thick fog.
Nothing remained but the heavy fog and an boundless silence.
Just then, a wave of intense dizziness washed over Bai Ci. Her vision went black, her body went limp, and she lost consciousness.
In her final moments of awareness, she felt someone catch her, and Cheng Xi's voice echoed in her ears.
“Cough, cough...”
A fit of violent coughing prompted Bai Ci to slowly open her eyes.
What met her eyes was the long-lost sight of the dilapidated theater—the mottled walls, the weed-covered floor, and a crackling bonfire.
The firewood crackled in the blaze, blending with the sound of the pattering rain outside.
This was the place where they had initially sought shelter from the rain—the run-down, weed-infested, abandoned Magnolia Theater.
Bai Ci slowly sat up. She found herself lying on the ground, her body feeling a bit cold, but her clothes were exactly as they had been.
She touched her face; the wounds were gone, leaving her skin as smooth as before.
Looking around, she saw Fu Yan, Cheng Xi, and Sun Hao lying near the bonfire, gradually waking up as well.
Bai Ci's gaze slowly swept over the area around the fire. Of the twelve people who had originally sat around it, only seven remained.
Li Yi, Wang Er, Liu Ziwei, Fu Liu, and Zheng Ba—the participants of the Ninth Round who had blended in among them—were all gone.
Now, only Fu Yan, Cheng Xi, Sun Hao, herself, and Liu Shanxi, Wu Tong, and Qi Lixin were left.
However, the latter three lay silently on the ground with their eyes closed, their faces pale. They weren't breathing, and their chests showed no movement.
Clearly, they had completely lost all vital signs.
Sun Hao rubbed his head and slowly stood up. He looked at the figures around the fire, then at the three lifeless bodies on the ground. “Is the game... over?”
Fu Yan opened his eyes as well. His gaze swept over the three corpses, then at the others before him. He gave a soft nod, his voice calm yet weary. “Yeah, it's over.”
“Look at you,” Cheng Xi said, already fiddling with her camera the moment she woke up. Without looking up, she added, “See? The final evaluation is already out, and you're still dazed.”
Just as Cheng Xi said, the system's electronic voice chimed in Bai Ci's ears.
[Instance 《Rainy Night Theater》 cleared on Normal difficulty.]
[Evaluation Grade: A.]
[Teleporting to personal independent space shortly.]
Bai Ci slowly lowered her head and looked at her hands.
At some point, a small leaf bookmark had appeared in the palm of her right hand.
It was the very same bookmark Fu Liu had given her earlier—an oval, deep green leaf covered in densely written, tiny words of “Thank you” in black ink.
The handwriting varied wildly—some neat, some scribbled, some delicate, some bold—clearly written by different people.
One “Thank you” was written exceptionally large, taking up half the bookmark, forcing the remaining “Thank you”s to squeeze into the corners, written in tiny script.
Bai Ci silently counted the number of “Thank you”s.
One, two, three...
No more, no less—exactly twelve “Thank you”s.
These twelve “Thank you”s were perhaps what everyone from the Ninth Round of the game wanted to say to the person who could end this nightmare.
“What a shame. I ran out of film. I wanted to take a few photos as a keepsake,” Cheng Xi said, putting her camera away with regret.
“Even though this instance was thrilling, thank goodness we didn't run into any disgusting teammates. I got to happily coast to a win. The ending was satisfying too—burning down those backstage spectators and Executioners together. It was great.”
“It's just this annoying class of mine is way too stingy. What's wrong with giving me an extra roll of film? Because of that, I couldn't even capture what the theater looked like as it burned down at the end. What a shame.”
Hearing this, Sun Hao couldn't help but roll his eyes. “What time do you think it is, and you're still thinking about taking photos? We're lucky just to have made it out alive.”
“What do you know? This was a rare, enjoyable instance experience for me. Of course I want to take photos to remember it,” Cheng Xi retorted defensively.
“Where are you going?” Bai Ci asked. She had no intention of revealing her identity at the last moment and chose to keep playing her part.
Just as Cheng Xi had said, their teammates this time were quite decent, but Bai Ci hadn't yet felt the desire to form a team with any of them.
She didn't want to expose herself, only for the other players to post about her situation on the forums, which would only invite unnecessary trouble.
“Ah...” Cheng Xi slowly looked at Bai Ci. She had completely forgotten that they had saved an NPC.
Since the instance was about to end, she had relaxed and started chatting with Sun Hao, a fellow player, completely forgetting about this.
After all, Anomalous Infection placed severe restrictions on contact between players.
They could only meet face-to-face within team spaces, and the team leader had no power to restrict the movements of team members, which greatly reduced the likelihood of veteran players exploiting rookies.
But for those with high social needs, merely chatting online wasn't enough to satisfy their desire to interact.
Having finally entered an instance with a quest hanging over their heads, now that the quest was finally over and they had a bit of time before teleportation, they naturally had to seize the opportunity to chat.
Of course, Cheng Xi wasn't one of those highly social people; she had simply relaxed and forgotten.
“We're from a special squad. Now that our mission is over, we naturally have to head back,” Sun Hao said, recalling the excuse Bai Ci had made up earlier and using it now.
“I see. Thank you for your help, and I wish you a safe journey,” Bai Ci said with a nod, offering no further comment.
Rate on N.U.
