Chapter Six: Rose Manor (Part Five) – A Late-Night Visitor (Revised)

Before him stretched a European-style cemetery under the cloak of night. Rows of ghastly white tombstones stood upright, like teeth emerging from the earth, with the loosened soil resembling decayed gums.

At the center of the graveyard stood a towering statue, its pure white surface glazed with the crimson sheen of the blood-red moonlight. Cradled in its hands pressed against its chest was a vivid red object, sharp and menacing.

Zeth strolled casually past, when suddenly behind his ear came a swift "whoosh."

He turned sharply and saw a pale, skeletal hand breaking through the soil. In the eerie scarlet glow, it resembled a bloodstained rose.

"How beautiful," he murmured, holding his breath, wary of disturbing such a rare sight.

His eyes remained fixed on the bony fingers as they curved and plunged back into the earth, using the ground for leverage to drag the entire body inch by inch from the soil, performing a grotesque and surreal dance reminiscent of a Bacchanalian feast.

The skeletal hand writhed and struggled but could not free itself from the earth after a long while.

Kindly, Zeth stepped forward, grasping the wrist and pulling with all his might, as if uprooting a stubborn radish.

A sudden crack echoed sharply—the sound of bone snapping—and in the next moment, a cloud of gray mist engulfed his vision.

A fierce wind arose, blowing all the phantasmal presences backward.

His back hit solid ground, and a shiver ran through his body as he opened his eyes in bed, meeting the speckled ceiling mottled with grass sprouts and dark stains.

"Dong—dong—dong—"

The clock outside struck with steady rhythm.

It was three in the morning.

Zeth quickly realized that Shen Ming’s earlier advice—to "think about nothing and just go back to sleep"—was sheer nonsense, as absurd as telling someone not to think about pink elephants.

Awakening suddenly in a perilous environment, trying to suppress the racing thoughts and fall back asleep immediately was utterly futile.

With this in mind, Zeth silently placed his right hand on his left wrist, counting seconds by his pulse.

Since childhood, many unusual traits had set him apart, causing most peers to fear and shun him as a "monster."

His pulse and heartbeat were always steady, precisely one beat per second—a seemingly trivial detail but now quite useful.

Soft footsteps sounded overhead—like wooden cane taps or delicate dancing steps—light and tremulous, as if the person might collapse at any moment.

These were unlike Miss Anna’s steps—lighter and more wavering, evoking an image of impending collapse.

Someone else on the third floor? Who could it be? Ghost or living?

Zeth glanced sideways at Lin Chen beside him.

That fellow breathed evenly, deeply asleep, unlikely to cause trouble with sudden starts—a rare bit of good news.

The footsteps continued for a while, then abruptly ceased.

After about thirty seconds, synchronized footsteps came from the staircase direction.

—Something from upstairs was coming down.

Zeth held his breath, eyes fixed on the door.

A faint clamor lingered in the hallway, approaching and receding, as if searching for something, leisurely like a stroll.

Suddenly, it stopped at a certain spot, and then a gentle, slow knocking sounded, the soft "knock knock" echoing between floors.

If Zeth recalled correctly, the door being knocked on was Room 1, occupied by Yezi and Zou Yan, diagonally opposite his own.

They were probably asleep; the knocking fell silent without a ripple.

The presence outside knocked several times, receiving no reply, and sighed deeply.

Footsteps resumed but changed direction, now purposeful, approaching rapidly within seconds.

"Knock knock knock."

The familiar knocking fell on Zeth’s door, identical in rhythm to the earlier sequence.

A rich floral scent thickened the air, a hissing noise came from the door crack as if something was forcing its way in.

Silently, Zeth sat up in bed and twisted the bracelet on his right wrist.

A cold blade sprang forth, pinched delicately between two fingers.

"Knock knock knock." The presence outside knocked thrice more, then waited silently.

No answer came; footsteps gradually receded, and the strange noises at the door vanished.

Squinting slightly, Zeth lengthened his breath, blending it seamlessly with the surrounding silence.

Sure enough, the footsteps that should have departed suddenly turned back.

It was a sudden, unexpected counterattack.

"Are you asleep?" a woman’s voice whispered outside, soft and thin, mumbling dreamily.

It sounded like Miss Anna, yet distorted, giving an indescribably eerie feeling.

Zeth remained silent, fingers clenched tightly on the blade.

"Are you asleep?" she asked again.

The situation was clear: staying awake at night meant danger, though he did not know how the threat would manifest or whether the door might be broken down without warning.

Throughout, Zeth had been counting seconds by his pulse, so he could precisely state the time: 3:11:27 a.m.

Perhaps because of this, the ghost outside could not strike him directly.

"You’re not asleep, are you? Let me in, please?" the “Miss Anna” outside coaxed, half pleading.

Zeth scanned the system interface’s rules, pausing on the fourth:

[4. Do not refuse any request from Miss Anna; fulfill all her demands as much as possible, as she detests disobedient guests.]

Did this mean he actually had to open the door and invite her in?

But was it truly Miss Anna outside?

[5. Miss Anna wears a red dress and is trustworthy when dressed so; if she appears in black clothing, keep your distance.]

There was no peephole on the guest room door—how could he tell what color dress she wore?

He could argue that minor rule-breaking at dinner could be excused by "the law does not punish the crowd," but breaking rules now was tantamount to declaring to fate, "I want to die; don’t save me."

After mulling it over, Zeth resolutely chose to feign death.

After all, the visitor was clearly requesting, and requests were not the same as commands.

Moreover, “as much as possible” implied discretionary action.

Zeth found his reasoning sound and logical.

Random events like waking at night were unavoidable natural disasters; no response could guarantee perfect correctness—life or death was a matter of luck.

Though unlucky since childhood, he did not fear gambling; if risks were bearable, losing was no tragedy.

After a long silence, Miss Anna’s voice grew sharper:

"You’re not asleep! You’re not asleep, right? Open the door! Let me in!"

Scratching sounds came from the doorboard, as if Miss Anna angrily clawed at the wood.

This also proved one thing: without the player’s consent, Miss Anna could not enter.

Zeth felt reassured, even found the clawing oddly pleasant.

Imagining her furious but powerless outside, helplessly clawing the door, was entertaining.

He sat cross-legged, chin resting on his knees, watching intently.

During the prolonged stalemate, her voice grew mournful:

"Please, let me in, just one look..."

"You promised to take me with you tonight... the time is set..."

"The time has come—why don’t you come find me? I came to find you—why won’t you see me?"

Zeth: "..."

After rambling on, Miss Anna sighed softly:

"Looks like you really are asleep..."

Light footsteps sounded again, heading toward the last door.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, a wind howled as if the glass were open, though it was tightly shut.

Almost instinctively, Zeth fell backward and closed his eyes tightly.

The moment he hit the bed, a sudden gust blew the curtains open, knocking over the stool holding them down with a loud clatter.

The key to his room in his chest pocket warmed faintly; lines of text refreshed on the empty system interface:

[Name: Key to Room 2]

[Type: Item (cannot be removed from the instance)]

[Effect: While the holder is inside the corresponding room, no other entity may forcibly enter without permission]

[Note: Guests deserve privacy as a matter of courtesy; except if the host is extremely angry]

---

Zeth felt a gaze, tangible and sticky, lick over every inch of him.

He calmly maintained steady breathing, feigning sleep as if for hours.

The gaze lingered for a full minute before reluctantly shifting away.

A sigh drifted on the night wind, tinged with disappointment and helplessness:

"Looks like you really are asleep..."

Simultaneously, at the door of Room 3 where Shen Ming and Chang Xu stayed, persistent “knock knock” sounds began, steady and unyielding...

---

Inside Room 3, Shen Ming had opened his eyes the instant the clock struck three.

Recalling the first two rules, his eyelids twitched uncontrollably.

He was not a man of initiative—his position as workshop foreman was earned through endurance, and ordinarily, he did as little as possible.

Volunteering to lead this time was bold beyond his nature.

But this was his third instance; rumor had it his mortality rate here was far higher than others’, with death lurking at every misstep.

He had to gain the upper hand and preferably trick others into triggering traps.

Unfortunately, things were not going well.

Chang Xu was resolute, unyielding and expressionless no matter what was said; Zeth seemed gentle but clearly had his own agenda; Zou Yan was unpredictable; Lin Chen indifferent…

Shen Ming inwardly cursed his niece, who had advised him to "establish a reliable and upright persona" and "take the moral high ground"—easier said than done, leaving him exposed to danger.

He had dragged her into the game to have a guinea pig for death tests, not to create more trouble.

"Knock knock knock."

The knocking passed the first two rooms like an executioner’s guillotine blade descending, finally arriving along with footsteps.

Shen Ming tensed, silent to avoid revealing weakness.

A soft female voice came from outside:

"You’re not asleep, are you? Let me in, please?"

[4. Do not refuse any request from Miss Anna; fulfill all her demands as much as possible, as she detests disobedient guests.]

The system’s rules were clear; Shen Ming had witnessed players die in strange ways after breaking them.

If everyone broke the same rule, one unlucky player would be randomly chosen to die, and as a third-time participant, he’d be the prime candidate.

Fearful, he quickly sat up, preparing to get out of bed.

Suddenly, cold hands covered his mouth from behind, pinning him down.

Chang Xu’s low voice whispered nearby:

"Stay quiet if you don’t want to die. Don’t let Miss Anna know we’re awake."

As if to prove his point, the voice outside grew shrill:

"I know you’re not asleep! Open up! Let me in!"

‘She already knows! If we don’t open, we break the rules!’ Shen Ming silently panicked, losing all composure.

He struggled violently; though still held by Chang Xu, a loud “bang” echoed.

It seemed to trigger some mechanism—the door creaked open slowly and steadily.

A red figure stood at the threshold, disheveled white hair obscuring most of her face, easily evoking the image of the rumored red-dressed vengeful spirit come for souls.

Startled, Shen Ming recalled the fifth rule:

[Miss Anna in a red dress can be trusted.]

He relaxed slightly.

But in the next moment, several vines shot out from the darkness, entwining the red figure and pulling her backward, mingled with weeping:

"Why do you still want to see him?"

More vines surged into the room, aiming for the large bed.

Shen Ming’s heart nearly stopped, but he was not entirely unprepared.

Before entering the instance, he had spent most of his fortune trading with the guild for life-saving items.

Trembling, he raised his hand to grasp the amulet around his neck, activating its power.

[Name: Disaster Transference Talisman]

[Type: Item]

[Effect: Minimizes presence to avoid strange gazes (duration: 30 seconds)]

[Note: If they can’t see you, they’ll have to look for your roommates.]

The amulet in his palm warmed faintly as the vines that had lunged toward him suddenly swerved, attacking Chang Xu beside him instead...