Chen Lidong, confident he had Qi Si under control, pulled Zhou Datong along and squeezed in next to a player named Jiang Junjue, ready to dig for clues.
Qi Si shuffled closer as well, his expression one of earnest integrity. He projected an air that said, *I don't know what you're all planning, but Ms. Medina told me to guide you, and I intend to do my job to the best of my ability.*
Having an NPC who might be human or ghost trailing them was unsettling.
Fortunately, Qi Si’s behavior was perfectly human, and his face and demeanor showed no signs of aggression. The players soon decided to ignore him, treating him as if he weren't there.
“You all remember what the first Ms. Medina we met looked like, right?” Jiang Junjue scratched his messy hair and scanned the players around him. “She was in her late thirties, almost forty, wearing a black fur coat—a completely different person from the Ms. Medina here. The question of how many Medinas there are is something we need to look into.”
An impatient player cut in. “What does that have to do with this instance? We don’t even know the main quest yet, or the death rules! Where are we supposed to find the school regulations?”
“Patience, patience. Good things come to those who wait. I’m analyzing it for you, aren’t I?” Jiang Junjue deliberately drew out his words, slowing his speech. “The school rules are just the surface layer, determining whether we can survive until the main quest is completed. My wild guess is that the main quest has nothing to do with the rules. It probably involves something more complex... like, what if this instance has multiple parallel dimensions?”
The players exchanged bewildered glances. A Caucasian woman spoke up first. “Jiang, did you find a clue we missed?”
Jiang Junjue fell silent for two seconds, then let out a long breath. “...No, I’m just guessing.”
“...”
After being so flippantly toyed with by Jiang Junjue, the players couldn’t muster much anger. After all, the Listening Wind Guild had always cultivated a reputation for being brilliantly unreliable.
However, this small interruption managed to break the ice, and the once-stiff atmosphere became more relaxed.
No one mentioned special identities again. The players began to speak freely, gradually reaching a consensus on their next course of action.
Ms. Medina had said that breaking the school rules on the first day would not be punished. The ideal plan was to use this grace period to test out all the rules. It would also be best to divide the labor and explore all four floors of the school building.
The main quest was unlikely to be something as simple as “survive for X days.” The background narration mentioned “arriving when the maples are lush” and “dying when the red leaves fall,” which implied too long a time span.
It was possible the main quest was to “escape Red Maple Boarding School,” which meant one or two players would need to try and retrace their steps through the maple forest to find an exit.
During the exploration, they had to pay special attention to the motifs mentioned in the nursery rhyme: “eating dirt,” “poisonous mushrooms,” “yellow flowers,” and “yellow butterflies.” These could be deeply connected to the instance’s worldview.
Qi Si listened quietly from the side, noting that the average skill level of this group of players was quite decent. At least in processing information and drawing conclusions, their thinking was clear.
Of course, when it came to assigning tasks, the bickering and arguments started all over again.
Almost no one was willing to perform the obviously suicidal tasks of testing the school rules, nor did anyone dare to venture into the maple forest or search for the so-called “yellow butterflies.”
“There are some things we can just have an NPC do,” Jiang Junjue suddenly remarked. “This NPC seems almost human and has been following us around. I’m guessing the Weird Game gave him to us as an ‘extra life.’”
His gaze fell on Qi Si. “In many high-difficulty instances, a few NPCs die to provide clues and warnings. Since he’s bound to die anyway, we might as well make his death worthwhile.”
“What are you talking about? You think an NPC is going to listen to you?” Chen Lidong instinctively stepped forward, shielding Qi Si.
It wasn’t that he cared whether Qi Si lived or died, but in his mind, he had saved Qi Si with a pack of biscuits. The boy was his property, and Jiang Junjue’s blatant scheming was out of line.
“What’s the big deal? Didn’t you save his life? He seems to trust you,” Jiang Junjue said, apparently oblivious to Chen Lidong’s displeasure, his eyes narrowing into sleepy slits. “You don’t have to trick him into doing anything too dangerous. Just ask him to find those things from the nursery rhyme. He’s lived in this instance his whole life, so he shouldn’t run into any trouble.”
Qi Si stood to the side with his head lowered, quietly staring at the shadows on the ground as if completely unaware that the players were plotting against him.
Zhou Datong looked at the back of his oblivious head and felt a pang of pity. “That’s not right. He’s just a kid. Should we exploit him just because he trusts us?”
At his words, several players let out scornful snickers.
Even a human who offers their trust should be prepared to be used, let alone an NPC.
Hearing Zhou Datong’s naive comment and the others’ malicious laughter, Chen Lidong felt as if he were being mocked as well.
He shot Zhou Datong a glare, now firmly on Jiang Junjue’s side. “No matter how human an NPC seems, it’s just a pile of data. I never realized you were so sentimental.”
Another player chimed in, “Yeah, he might look human, but he’s still a ghost. Who knows what kind of monster is hiding under that human skin.”
Qi Si finally seemed to understand what the players were saying. He offered Chen Lidong a friendly smile. “Brother Chen, if there’s anything you need me to do, just let me know. I’ll do my best to help!”
His smile had a natural quality that disarmed people. Combined with the effect of the Rose Heart and the youthful face crafted by the Human Skin Mask, it appeared completely guileless to the players—exceptionally bright and sunny.
Even Jiang Junjue, who had first proposed using him, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. *Such a good person. Why did he have to be an NPC born in an instance?*
Chen Lidong felt a little embarrassed under his gaze but steeled himself and said, “47, that nursery rhyme you and your classmates were singing... we don’t really understand it. And we’ve never seen some of the things it mentions. Could you find some samples for us to look at?”
“No problem,” Qi Si agreed, then lowered his eyes and added hesitantly, “When do you need them by, Brother Chen? I might need some time.”
Jiang Junjue fixed his eyes on Qi Si. “Three days. Can you do it?”
Qi Si feigned hesitation. “The yellow flower buds and yellow butterflies might be hard to find.”
Agreeing too readily would only make them think he was being perfunctory. A little show of difficulty, however, would convince them he was taking the task seriously.
Jiang Junjue pondered for a moment. “Just find as many as you can.”
Only then did Qi Si nod.
Things had gone almost too smoothly, yet none of the players felt much suspicion—NPCs rarely deceived players on matters like this.
And Qi Si’s words confirmed their guess: the “yellow flowers” and “yellow butterflies” from the rhyme were indeed key clues.
Zhang Yiyu listened to the exchange between Qi Si and the players, her mind in a total mess. *You’re a monster more terrifying than Ms. Medina. Is it fun for you to play the innocent little lamb? Are you really this clueless, or are you faking it?*
She cleared her throat, about to warn Jiang Junjue, but she looked up and met Qi Si’s gaze. He was staring at her with a faint, knowing smile.
The words caught in her throat.
Jiang Junjue turned his head, looking at her with confusion. “Little Zhang, what’s wrong?”
“N-nothing. My throat was just a little scratchy,” Zhang Yiyu mumbled, shrinking back as her eyes darted away.
She was a monster herself. Humans could only contain her, not kill her. But a higher-level monster could very well devour her. She knew who she couldn't afford to offend.
Jiang Junjue, none the wiser, expressed his concern casually. “Then you should drink some more water. Don’t get sick.”
“...O-okay!”
Through his observations, Qi Si had gotten a decent read on some of the players’ personalities, including Chen Lidong’s arrogance and Jiang Junjue’s decisiveness hidden beneath a laid-back exterior.
The one who concerned him more was the girl they called “Little Zhang.” From the very beginning, she had been looking at him as if she’d seen a ghost, which was truly strange.
Did he really look that terrifying? Or... could she see something others couldn’t?
Meanwhile, the players resumed their discussion about assigning tasks.
This time, the process went much more smoothly.
The twenty-eight players who had changed into school uniforms were divided into four teams, drawing lots to decide which floor to explore. The mixed-race boy who hadn’t gotten a uniform was told to stay put, supposedly to reduce his chances of encountering danger.
But many knew that someone left alone was more likely to trigger certain events or, out of fear, inadvertently break a rule.
With their tasks assigned, the group wasted no more time, melting into the shadows in various corners of the building.
Qi Si walked out of the school's main entrance and headed toward the maple forest, feigning a diligent search for samples for the players.
Of course, just because he agreed didn't mean he was going to do it.
Even if he looked for those things, would he necessarily find them?
...
In a corner of the first floor, a boy named Filid watched the NPC who called himself “47” plunge into the maple forest, a cruel glint in his grayish-blue eyes.
He was small and had been a step too slow during the scramble for uniforms, leaving him the only one without.
After his initial frustration faded, he was consumed by anxiety and unease.
The system interface clearly stated, *Students must wear their school uniform on campus.* Although breaking the rule on the first day was fine, what about tomorrow?
Filid didn’t believe the other players would be kind enough to lend him a uniform, and he certainly didn’t dare try to snatch one in front of everyone.
The only target he could go after was that gentle, harmless-looking NPC boy.
Even though this NPC seemed very close to Ms. Medina and had a mission to find samples, those were future concerns. If he couldn’t get a uniform, he might not even survive until tomorrow. What future was there to talk about?
Filid glanced around. The other players had dispersed, and no one was paying attention to him. He quickened his pace, following the NPC boy’s path into the maple forest.
The woods were thick with life. The branches of the maple trees intertwined with the vines of ferns, and the dense canopy blotted out the sun, allowing only a few faint slivers of light to pierce through.
Filid peered into the dark depths of the forest, where shadows clustered like covetous eyes, greedily watching any creature that passed.
He felt a chill of fear, but the thought of the rule written in black and white on the system interface made him clench his jaw and continue following the footprints in the mud.
“Are you also looking for the exit?” A clear voice suddenly rang out from behind him, making Filid jump.
He spun around to see a young man in a white shirt and black trousers standing among the leaves, a warm smile on his face.
Before Filid could ask, the young man continued on his own. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for everyone to stay in the school, so I told Senior Jiang I was going to check the outskirts of the forest.”
Filid sized up the young man. His face was unfamiliar, but his voice had a hint of familiarity that he couldn’t quite place.
It made sense, though. With nearly thirty people crammed together, all the East Asian faces looked the same to him. It was unrealistic to expect to recognize everyone so quickly.
“Where’s your uniform?” Filid asked.
He remembered that out of the twenty-nine people, he was the only one without a uniform. Why wasn’t this young man wearing one either?
“I had a friend hold onto it for me,” the young man said with a smile. “There’s something strange about that uniform. Since it doesn’t matter if we break the rule today, I’d rather not wear it if I don’t have to... Besides, if I die out here, the uniform can go to someone who needs it.”
Filid was about to say, “If you’re not wearing it, give it to me,” but the young man’s last sentence gave him pause.
The “someone who needs it” was undoubtedly him. While it might have been a deliberate attempt to butter him up, the casual way the young man spoke of death made him think he might actually mean it...
“Anyway, enough of that. I’m guessing you’re looking for that NPC, right?” The young man’s eyes suddenly narrowed into a mischievous squint, and he pointed toward a direction deeper in the forest. “I saw him head that way just now.”
Filid’s mind was a whirl of questions, but before he could say anything more, the young man had already turned and disappeared into the dense woods.
Filid looked down and saw that the footprints in the mud had inexplicably vanished at a certain point, leaving no trace.
The NPC boy was also gone, vanished without a trace.
He glanced back the way he came, then at the direction the young man had pointed. After a long moment of hesitation, he finally started walking cautiously deeper into the maple forest, following the young man’s suggestion.
...
Having successfully misled the player who coveted his uniform, Qi Si quickly exited the maple forest and returned to the vicinity of the concrete school building.
He found a blind spot, ducked into it, and took out the Human Skin Mask from his inventory. He put it back on, once again becoming the NPC boy, 47.
He opened his inventory, took out the school uniform, and changed into it, putting the white shirt he’d been wearing back inside. He was all set.
His main reason for entering the forest was simply to shake off any players who might be following him. If he’d been caught and they had tried to strip him of his clothes, he would have been powerless to resist.
As for pointing the way deeper into the forest, that was just a casual act—some player had to test the waters and search for an exit eventually.
All he did was a good deed, helping the other players select a guinea pig.
By now, it was getting late. The sky had darkened, shrouded in the pale gray of evening.
The last of the daylight was swallowed by the horizon where the forest met the sky, drawing a final curtain over the world.
Qi Si fiddled with a sticky note he’d picked up from somewhere, watching his shadow stretch long and thin in the slanting light before disappearing into the encroaching darkness.
A damp stain slowly bloomed on the concrete wall, gradually taking the shape of a child’s ashen face. Once its features formed, it dripped down from the wall, becoming three-dimensional.
“Number 47, Ms. Medina wants me to take you to the kitchen,” the face said, floating in the air, its voice lifeless.