SWBG - Chapter 32

Xia Xiaoyun tried to shut the wooden cabinet door completely, but when there was only a narrow gap left, an invisible force blocked it, preventing the door from being fully closed.

—Game Rule No. 4: “You fear the darkness and cannot move in environments without light.”

With no alternative, Xia Xiaoyun was forced to comply with Happy Board Game’s principle of leaving a crack open for illumination when closing doors. Fortunately, directly in front of her cabinet was a stack of old chairs piled together, blocking the view. She couldn’t see anyone, and no one could see her either, making it temporarily safe.

Two NPCs wandered around the room. Xia Xiaoyun couldn’t see them, but to be safe, she materialized the [Inconspicuous Bearskin Coat] and wrapped it tightly around herself.

“Thud! Thud! Thud!”

The footsteps grew louder, mixed with the harsh scraping sound of iron chains dragging across the floor. Judging by the volume, Xia Xiaoyun realized that the distance between the NPCs and the cabinet was rapidly shrinking—worse than her worst-case scenario. There was only one possible explanation: from the very beginning, they had been heading straight toward her.

The footsteps stopped in front of the cabinet door.

Xia Xiaoyun lowered her eyes and didn’t dare look outside. She tried desperately to keep from making any sound, yet her body still trembled slightly. In extreme fear, this was an uncontrollable physiological instinct—

“Ahhhhh—!”

The scream made Shang Min’e’s hand tremble. As a veteran participant, he was long accustomed to the deaths of companions, but the wailing cries humans made before dying were always piercing, no matter how many times he heard them.

Gao Buyi’s physical condition was slightly better than his friend’s, but without the protection of a shield, his body was already covered in numerous wounds.

At their feet lay the corpse of a native.

Upon hearing the scream of captured prey, the NPCs that had been grappling with Gao and Shang instantly abandoned their current targets and turned to run toward the source of the sound.

[From: Happy Board Game

Formal Participant [Da Zhou] has died. Other survivors, please continue the game.]

Xia Xiaoyun crawled out of the cabinet on unsteady legs. Cold sweat soaked her forehead, sticking strands of hair to her pale cheeks—after Zhou Shuai was captured, the NPC that had been standing in front of her cabinet turned around and ran in the opposite direction, allowing her to narrowly escape disaster.

Shang Min’e reached out and steadied the unbalanced Xia Xiaoyun, whispering, “The monsters won’t come after us for now. Let’s move.”

Xia Xiaoyun glanced in the direction of Zhou Shuai’s body and nodded silently.

After Xiao Luo’s death, the flint he had been holding ended up in Gu Jingsheng’s hands. Using this faint light, Gu Jingsheng found the switch for the corridor’s energy-saving lamp. As the illuminated area expanded, the three remaining survivors finally reached the end of the corridor.

The distance wasn’t long. Even though Gu Jingsheng felt that part of her attributes had been weakened, it still took only about half a minute to reach their destination. During this time, they separately received death notifications for [Da Zhou] and [Le Jiang].

—After leaving the third door, or rather, upon entering the third round, the game’s difficulty increased by another tier.

At the end of the corridor were two doors. One stood in the center, shaped like a long-sealed emergency escape route, but unfortunately it was locked. The other door bore the large characters: “Duty Room.”

Brother Fang took a deep breath and said calmly, “This should be the final test.” He glanced at the two people he had temporarily teamed up with and asked, “Are you ready?”

Wei Jiashi answered honestly, “I’m not.”

Gu Jingsheng also answered honestly, “I’ve always been fine.”

Brother Fang nodded calmly. “That’ll do.”

Wei Jiashi: “…”

The duty room door wasn’t locked; the round handle opened with a gentle twist. When Gu Jingsheng discovered this, she didn’t feel relieved—instead, her expression grew heavier.

Judging from their earlier experiences, the further the game progressed, the higher the difficulty became. The fact that the duty room door wasn’t locked could only mean one thing: an even greater challenge awaited them behind it.

Using the flint, Gu Jingsheng found the switch for the duty room’s ceiling light. Like the previous three rooms, the lighting system here still retained its most basic functionality.

The moment Wei Jiashi clearly saw the room’s interior, he couldn’t help but gasp.

A massive oil painting hung on the wall directly opposite the door. The eyes of the lady in the painting had been gouged out, leaving only two black holes. The corners of her mouth had been carefully slit open with a small knife, forming a grotesquely curved smile.

On the hem of the lady’s dress was a trail of bloodstained handprints.

In addition, the duty room’s floor, the planks of the bunk bed, and the wooden cabinets were all covered in old bloodstains and dragging marks.

The duty room also had a small attached washroom. As soon as Wei Jiashi pushed the door open—before he even began searching—he was overwhelmed by the long-sealed stench and sneezed three times in a row.

Gu Jingsheng said, “…No need to rush in there. Let’s take a look outside first.”

Wei Jiashi followed her instruction. After only a couple of turns around the room, he noticed something strange: not only was the main door unlocked, but the washroom door and even the wooden cabinet used for storing documents were also unlocked. If he didn’t deeply understand Happy Board Game’s malice, he would have suspected that this final bonus question was deliberately designed to hand out free points.

Brother Fang frowned, clearly thinking the same thing as Wei Jiashi. “Why don’t I see anything that needs deciphering?”

Perhaps because she played the game with her brain, Gu Jingsheng appeared far more relaxed than the other two. “Don’t rush. Take a closer look at this bed.”

The bunk bed in the duty room was placed against the wall, separated from the washroom by just one wall. Although it was large enough to accommodate two people sleeping at the same time, judging by the wear marks, the upper bunk was most likely used to store miscellaneous items, making it functionally equivalent to a wardrobe.

Gu Jingsheng didn’t climb up to inspect the room from above; instead, she focused her attention on the lower bunk.

Old bloodstains marked all four corners at the head and foot of the bed. The side near the headboard had the most blood—soaked completely through the plank and dripping down to form a nearly circular pool-shaped stain on the floor.

Wei Jiashi murmured, “There are chains and restraint straps on the bed?”

Since this was a duty room, it was undoubtedly where the sanatorium staff rested at night—so why would equipment meant for restraining patients appear here?

Gu Jingsheng replied calmly, “Before the patients escaped the sanatorium, they carried out frenzied retaliation against the staff. These items were most likely left behind at that time.”

Wei Jiashi felt a chill of terror after thinking it through.

After Xiao Luo’s death, Fang Qiju had grown increasingly restless. Reason told him to wait a little longer, but the ever-present danger made him urge impatiently, “Have you found anything?”

Although he didn’t specify, Gu Jingsheng immediately understood his question. She shrugged. “Don’t rush. I think there must be high-difficulty clues hidden in this room.”

Fang Qiju froze. “You really want to challenge the high difficulty?”

Gu Jingsheng didn’t insist on pushing this dungeon to its absolute limit and answered generously, “Let’s try first. If it doesn’t work out, clearing it on normal difficulty is fine too.”

“…”

Fang Qiju thought that anyone who could say something like that was either a true expert—or a true rookie.

Survival instinct made Wei Jiashi temporarily ignore the difference in room numbers and align himself with Fang Qiju. “Before pursuing higher difficulty, shouldn’t we deal with the problem in front of us first?”

Fang Qiju agreed. “We’ve checked everything outside. Let’s go look in the washroom.”

Gu Jingsheng shook her head. “I don’t think the puzzle is in the washroom.”

Wei Jiashi asked in confusion, “Then where is it?”

Gu Jingsheng smiled. “Right in front of us.”

Under the gaze of Wei Jiashi and Fang Qiju, Gu Jingsheng lay down directly on the lower bunk, staring straight at the underside of the upper bunk’s plank.

“…”

Although they had already encountered similar situations several times since entering the dungeon, Fang Qiju still couldn’t help asking, “How did you know there was something on the back of the bed plank?”

Gu Jingsheng replied, “Placing the puzzle right in front of you but forcing you to change perspective to see it is an overused cliché in literary works. Besides, there are hints right now—chains and restraints, tools used to bind people to beds. The game is reminding you that you can lie down and take a look.”

The phrase “overused cliché” made Fang Qiju’s temple twitch uncontrollably. He couldn’t help asking, “What do you actually do in real life?”

Gu Jingsheng raised a hand to her temple, pretending to adjust imaginary glasses, her expression deep and solemn. “A photographer—the kind who would give their life for work.”

Seeing Fang Qiju’s thoughtful expression, Wei Jiashi couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth behind that so-called “giving one’s life for work”—namely, dying from a meteorite strike on one’s very first outdoor photography trip.

Even though the Rosemary Sanatorium had been abandoned for a long time, the writing carved into the bed plank remained deep and vivid. Gu Jingsheng’s intuition told her that these marks were not only soaked in human blood, but had also been gouged out with bare fingernails.

“Dear Mr. Connor, once the sleeping pills wear off, you will awaken from your slumber and discover that all four of your limbs are bound. There are only three hours left before the ‘antidepressants’ fully take effect.”

“Although the cruel Mr. Connor never gives innocent patients a chance, the polite Andre is willing to spare him. When Mr. Connor sees these words, the ‘sedative’ in his body will have already begun to take effect. This drug temporarily increases a person’s strength. Mr. Connor may try to break the restraint on his left hand by himself.”

“After gaining partial freedom, Mr. Connor wishes to leave the bed. Unfortunately, what binds his right hand is not a shoddy restraint strap but a sturdy iron chain. Of course, if Mr. Connor is careful enough, he will find a sharp knife beneath his pillow. Andre guarantees with his own reputation that although this knife cannot cut through the chain, it can easily sever an adult’s wrist—even someone as foolish as Mr. Connor, who always ranks last in physical fitness tests.”

“Mr. Connor finds it difficult to make up his mind. He fears that before the drug takes full effect, he may die from excessive blood loss. The considerate Andre has prepared hemostatic bandages and spray in the drawer beneath the wooden cabinet. These bandages are frequently used by patients, so Mr. Connor may safely use them to wrap his wound. However, Andre cannot be certain of the spray’s medicinal effectiveness—after all, such medicine is as unattainable to him as meat in a lunchtime meal. Mr. Connor may place his hopes in the kindness and honesty of the procurement staff.”

Such an interesting instance