The white-collar worker's face was deathly pale as she nodded repeatedly. “I know, I know! I'll do whatever you say! Just don't throw me out!”
She still had a husband and a child waiting for her outside; she couldn't die.
The student also nodded quickly, his voice soft and trembling. “I-I'll listen too...”
He hadn't even taken his college entrance exams yet, nor had he ever been in a relationship. How could he want to die in a hellhole like this?
Only then did Dashui-ge nod in satisfaction. He jerked his chin toward the stairwell.
“Alright, then let's start searching the building. We'll search floor by floor, going up. Look for food, supplies, and items. Don't miss a single thing. We need to find everything.”
“Why do we have to go up...” the white-collar worker asked in a low voice. “Can't we just hide and wait for someone to rescue us?”
“Stupid!”
Dashui-ge cursed. “There are giant leggy monsters guarding the outside of the building. Going out is suicide. Going up is safer—the higher, the better. Finding a room to lock ourselves in is way better than wandering around the corridors.”
He had already planned this out.
This building looked quite tall. Scavenging some supplies and finding a sturdy room to hide in would be much better than wandering outside and risking running into ghosts at any moment.
...
“Let's go. Walk slowly and don't make a sound.”
Dashui-ge stood up, raising his gun to force the two to walk ahead of him.
The rubber shoe covers on his feet stepped on the floor, indeed making absolutely no sound.
The white-collar worker and the student hesitated with every step, constantly looking back, but they didn't dare run away. They could only steel themselves and press forward.
The corridor was terrifyingly quiet, with only the footsteps of the two echoing.
Vaguely, heavy thuds of running footsteps could be heard echoing through the stairwell, as if someone was chasing someone else.
The three of them hid and listened for a moment. The blood-curdling scream of a young man seemed to drift down from above.
Dashui-ge glared at them. “What are you looking at? Keep moving.”
The two had no choice but to support themselves against the wall, trembling as they walked forward.
The corridor was narrow, and the walls were stained with dark brown patches. It was hard to tell if they were dried blood or mold, but they formed splotches that looked unsettlingly like human silhouettes.
The handrails were so rusted that they flaked at a touch, leaving a reddish-brown rusty powder all over their hands.
Broken glass, rotten newspapers, and peeling plaster were scattered all over the floor.
In the corners lay several dead cockroaches with bloated bellies, looking as though they had been dead for a long time.
As they made their way up, the rooms on the first and second floors were all fitted with heavy iron security doors. They were locked tight and wouldn't budge even when shaken.
“They're all locked,” the white-collar worker whispered. “Should we just forget it?”
“Keep going up.” Dashui-ge's face darkened.
He had thought he could easily kick open a few doors to scavenge supplies, but he hadn't expected the lower floors to be entirely blocked by iron security gates.
It wasn't until they reached the seventeenth floor that the iron gates disappeared, replaced by ordinary wooden doors.
The wooden doors lined up one after another. Most were locked, and their handles were similarly rusted to pieces.
Only the innermost unit—room 1703—had its door slightly ajar, leaving just a crack. From within drifted a faint aroma of steamed rice, mixed with the savory, salty scent of cured meat.
In the mold-infested corridor, this aroma was exceptionally prominent, practically making their stomachs growl instantly.
There was food!
Dashui-ge's eyes lit up, and he licked his lips.
He raised his hand to signal the two to stop, then pressed himself against the wall and slowly crept over, his gun aimed right at the crack in the door.
“You, go open the door.”
He pointed his gun at the student.
The student stiffened. “M-me?”
“Who else but you?” Dashui-ge glared. “Hurry up! Stop stalling, or do you want me to shoot a hole through your foot?”
The student bit his lip, a flash of resentment crossing his eyes, but he didn't dare resist.
He slowly walked over and gave the door a gentle push.
“Creak—”
The old wooden door let out a long, drawn-out groan.
The aroma inside the room grew even stronger, the scent of cured meat and rice wafting out to greet them.
...
The moment the door swung open, all three of them froze.
Unlike the dilapidated and eerie environment outside, this room was decorated very cozily.
The room was small, only about four or five square meters—a typical subdivided flat layout. A double-decker iron bunk bed stood against the wall, with a floral quilt piled on the top bunk and an old Kumamon plushie resting on the bottom bunk.
Near the window was a plastic folding table covered with a checkered tablecloth.
Right in the center of the table sat a white porcelain plate containing a neat stack of four or five rice cakes.
They were perfectly square, a pale creamy yellow, studded with bits of cured meat and glistening with oil.
Hanging on the wall was a family portrait of a family of three.
The man wore an old suit, the woman wore a floral qipao, and the little boy in the middle sat on the man's shoulders, holding up a lollipop.
The photo was yellowed, looking as though it had been hanging there for many years.
The room was spotless, and everything was arranged neatly.
It looked as if the owners had only stepped out briefly to buy groceries and would return at any moment.
But in a ghostly place like this, how could there be such a neatly kept room?
And even with a plate of steaming rice cakes sitting out?
No matter how they thought about it, it was incredibly bizarre.
The white-collar worker stood at the doorway, not daring to enter. “D-Dashui-ge, this place... looks like someone lives here...”
“So what if someone lives here?”
Dashui-ge gave the student a shove. “Go in and take a look! I don't care if anyone's here or not, search it!”
The student stumbled and fell into the room from the push.
Once he steadied himself and looked around, he felt as though the three people in the family portrait were staring right at him.
“What are you dazing off for!” Seeing him stand there motionless, Dashui-ge raised his hand and fired a shot.
“Bang!”
The gunshot wasn't loud. The bullet hit flesh with a dull thud. The student let out a sharp cry of pain, clutching his arm as he crouched down.
“Ah—!”
Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the sleeve of his white school uniform red.
A bullet made of blood burned like fire when it pierced the flesh, feeling like a red-hot nail being driven into him.
“Stop screaming!”
Dashui-ge's face was grim as he waved his gun. “I told you to see if those rice cakes are edible! Didn't you hear me? Are you deaf?”
“Keep stalling and my next shot goes right through your head!”
The white-collar worker shrank back, too terrified to speak.
The hatred in the student's eyes was practically overflowing.
He clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.
Just wait.
When he got the chance, he would make this man pay.
“Hurry up!” Dashui-ge urged again.
Having no choice, the student endured the pain and slowly shuffled over to the table.
He stared at the plate of rice cakes for a few seconds, then reached out and carefully picked one up.
The moment his fingertips touched the rice cake, a strange text prompt popped up in front of his eyes:
【Item: Cured Meat Yin Rice Cake (The proud creation of a roast meat boss)】
【Quality: Common】
【Effect: Consuming one piece can stave off hunger for 12 hours and restore a small amount of stamina.】
【Warning: Do not consume in excess.】
It was edible.
The student breathed a sigh of relief.
He glanced at Dashui-ge, and seeing that the man was staring intently at him, he had no choice but to take a tentative bite.
The rice cake was very chewy upon entering his mouth. The savory saltiness of the cured meat blended with the flavor of the rice, making it taste decent at first. But after a couple of chews, a faint musty, bitter taste emerged, as if it had been made from old, long-stored rice.
It tasted awful, but at least it could fill his stomach.
They had been inside for over a day without eating anything, and their stomachs were already sticking to their spines from hunger.
“How is it? Is it edible?” Dashui-ge asked from the doorway.
“...Yes,” A'jie whispered. “It just tastes a bit musty.”
Hearing that it was edible, the white-collar worker's eyes instantly lit up.
Without waiting for Dashui-ge's order, she rushed inside, grabbed a piece, and devoured it greedily.
“Mmh... so good...” she mumbled incoherently. Even when she began to choke and craned her neck to swallow, she refused to spit any of it out.
When one was starving, who cared about a musty taste?
As long as it filled their bellies, they would eat bugs.
Seeing that both of them were fine after eating, Dashui-ge was instantly overjoyed. “Fuck! There really is food!”
He strode inside, holstered his gun, and pulled the plate right in front of himself. Grabbing a piece, he began to wolf it down, rice crumbs spilling all over his chest.
“Mmh, doesn't taste too bad.”
He mumbled while chewing, stopping only after eating three pieces in a row. He wiped his mouth, his gaze sweeping around the room.
“Is there any more? Search again. See if there's other food or water. A person will die of thirst without water, you idiots.”
As he spoke, he yanked the checkered tablecloth off the table, dumped the remaining rice cakes onto it with a clatter, tied it into a bundle, and stuffed it into his jacket.
“We're taking them all. We'll eat them on the way.”
The two watched him take all the rice cakes, but neither dared to say a word.
Just then, an even richer aroma suddenly drifted from the kitchen.
The smell was difficult to describe.
It was like the scent of cured meat stewed with fresh rice, blended with the savory umami of bones, along with an indescribable, sweet fragrance.
Wisps of the aroma wafted into their noses, making their throats itch and their mouths water uncontrollably.
Dashui-ge's nose twitched, and his eyes instantly locked onto the source. “What smells so good?”
Following the scent, he saw a tiny kitchen separated by a cloth curtain at the very back of the room.
The fragrance was drifting from behind the curtain.
“Is anyone in there?” Dashui-ge aimed his gun at the curtain and cautiously flipped it aside.
Behind the curtain was an extremely tiny kitchen.
The stove was built of bricks, and a black clay pot sat on top of it.
White steam billowed from the mouth of the pot, which was bubbling noisily. An eerie green flame burned in the stove, casting a sickly green glow across the kitchen walls.
The fire wasn't large, yet it kept the soup inside the clay pot boiling vigorously.
There was no one.
The space in front of the stove was completely empty; not a soul was in sight.
The fire burned on its own, and the soup simmered by itself.
It was as if someone had just started cooking the soup and had temporarily stepped out.
“What the hell...” Dashui-ge muttered, taking two steps forward.
The closer he got, the stronger the aroma became.
Sweetness, saltiness, and the savory scent of simmered bones rushed into his nose. It made him feel as though a pair of hands were reaching out from his throat, desperate to grab the entire pot of soup and drink it down.
Dashui-ge swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
He was craving it.
In all his life, he had never smelled soup this fragrant.
“It's just a pot of soup. No need to make a big deal out of it.”
He bolstered his courage, slowly leaned in, and placed his hand on the pot's lid.
The lid was somewhat hot. He took a deep breath and suddenly lifted it off.
“Whoosh—”
A cloud of white steam rushed over him, carrying an ultimate, savory fragrance that instantly filled the tiny kitchen.
The milky-white soup bubbled in the clay pot, with grains of rice, diced cured meat, beans, and bones floating up and down. The aroma was so dense it was almost tangible.
It really was just a pot of soup—there were no human heads or strange meats inside.
Dashui-ge casually tucked his gun into his waistband, picked up the large ladle beside the stove, and scooped up a portion.
The soup was thick and incredibly fragrant.
Without even blowing on it, he shoved it into his mouth.
“Hiss...”
The boiling hot soup numbed his tongue, but the savory flavor instantly exploded across his taste buds, sending a rush of pleasure through every pore of his body.
It was too delicious.
It was better than any gourmet soup he had ever tasted.
As if possessed by magic, once he took a sip, he wanted another. He couldn't stop at all.
“So good! It's really so good!”
Dashui-ge's eyes shone with excitement as he poured ladle after ladle down his throat.
The boiling soup scalded his lips red, but he seemed completely oblivious to the pain, drinking faster and faster.
“Mmh... so good... want more...”
His eyes gradually grew vacant. Like a man possessed, he swung the ladle faster and faster.
His mouth blistered and began to bleed, the fresh blood mixing with the soup and trickling down, but he paid it no mind.
His tongue was scalded to shreds, rendering his speech slurred, but he still wouldn't stop.
Standing at the kitchen doorway, the white-collar worker felt a chill run down her spine.
“Dashui-ge... don't drink so much... it's boiling hot...”
But Dashui-ge acted as if he hadn't heard a thing. Without even raising his head, he kept scooping and drinking, splattering soup all over his face.
Sensing that things were going south, the student had already slipped away, preparing to flee.
Finding a pot of unattended soup in a creepy ghost building—no sane person would drink it directly!
Unless the thing itself was inherently cursed.
Soon, drinking it ladle by ladle was clearly no longer enough for Dashui-ge.
He seemed to find it too slow.
He grabbed the handles on both sides of the clay pot with both hands and suddenly lifted it up!
“Gulp... gulp...”
As the boiling hot soup poured down his throat, the skin it passed over instantly turned red, blistered, and began to fester.
The scalding liquid splashed onto his face with a loud sizzle. His skin was practically cooked, erupting in a dense cluster of white blisters that peeled away at a touch, exposing the raw, pink flesh underneath.
The scent of cooked flesh mingled with the aroma of the soup, drifting into the air.
The white-collar worker finally couldn't take it anymore and threw up.
In the family portrait hanging on the wall, the previously static eyes of the family of three slowly shifted.
The man, the woman, and the child.
Their dark pupils turned in unison, staring directly at the three living humans.
Then, the corners of their mouths slowly curled upward.
...
A familiar dizziness washed over them, making the world spin.
Chen Xi reached out to steady Kang Xiaojia beside her.
In just two or three seconds, the weightlessness abruptly vanished, and the dizziness slowly receded.
Chen Xi was the first to open her eyes, quickly scanning their surroundings.
They were standing in front of an old building.
It was over thirty stories tall. Its concrete outer walls were pitch black, covered in water stains and mold patches like a bloated human face.
The exterior was tangled with a chaotic mess of electrical wires, twisted into clump after clump.
A few old billboards hung on the wall, their frames rusted beyond recognition.
The four characters for “Shing King Building” were neatly engraved on the building's sign.
Except, the characters were reversed, the facilities were reversed, the wires were reversed, and even the layout of the stairs was completely opposite to reality.
Everything was flipped left to right, as if it had been cut directly out of a mirror.
“Captain Chen...” Jiang Chen was the first to point it out. “We're still at the unfinished building, but the characters are reversed.”
Chen Xi nodded.
The pile of clutter in front of the building, the broken bicycles, the cardboard boxes, the clothes on the clotheslines... everything was completely reversed left to right.
“The entire space is a mirror image,” she said, crouching down to touch the pebbles on the ground. “It's flipped left to right, perfectly symmetrical to reality.”
In the next second, the familiar ink-style text floated up in front of them once again:
【Welcome to the Instance 《Ghosts in the Hong Kong Building》】
【Current total players in the Instance: 50/50.】
【Instance Type: Puzzle-Solving Survival】
【Main Quest: Survive for one month and register the information of all residents in the unfinished building.】
【Current Identity: Newly Hired Security Guard】
【Tip: There are many taboos in the building.】
【Tip: Even as security guards, you must pay rent daily. Consequences for overdue payments are at your own risk.】
【Tip: Do not go out at night.】
【Taboo One: Never let the native residents discover that you are “different.”】
...
The moment the text dissolved, a lounge chair appeared in the corner of the wall out of nowhere, with an old man in his sixties lying on it.
His head was very long and flat. He wore a faded white tank top and flip-flops, “stuck” to the lounge chair like a flat piece of paper.
Some of the teammates had already sensed that something was wrong.
“New arrivals?”
The paper-thin, flat old ghost blew a ring of smoke, the green smoke ring drifting lazily:
“Renting a room? Rent is paid once every three days—one gold ingot. You lot are really lucky; some new rooms just opened up.”
Chen Xi pursed her lips.
Rate on N.U.
