[Dungeon Name: Red Maple Boarding School]
[Dungeon Type: Team Survival]
[Foreword: Disaster is a recurring nightmare, survival a fleeting dream. To be alive is a matter of luck; death is the only destiny.]
Chang Xu stood gravely before a massive concrete building, scanning his surroundings. He saw no sign of his teammates.
A faint, unsettling premonition crept over him: this dungeon was likely to be complex, and the main objective would be far from the straightforward "survive for X days" or "escape this place" he was used to.
It would be... puzzle-solving, his greatest weakness.
In the silence, a narrator's voice echoed softly in his ears:
[Through the long river of time, a race perished in silence; the remnants of their civilization were consumed by the fires of war, leaving no proof they ever existed.]
[Some call it a tragedy, others call it greatness. Extinction is inevitable, but disaster is eternal.]
[The bones of the dead rot in the earth as monuments to the victors rise from the ground. Is there any meaning in remembrance?]
[Visitors, welcome to the Indigenous Victims Memorial Hall.]
Chang Xu furrowed his brow.
Shouldn't it be the "Red Maple Boarding School"? What was this about a "memorial hall"?
He looked up and saw a line of English engraved on the building's cement plaque.
After he stared at it for two seconds, the English text was translated into the words "Indigenous Victims Memorial Hall," which appeared on his system interface.
The building itself didn't look like a school. Its concrete exterior had been painted white, rendering it as solemn and pale as a withered tomb.
A pale gray glass door was set into the wall, fronted by three marble steps that led directly to Chang Xu's feet.
The only thing connecting the place to the name "Red Maple" was the vast maple forest encircling the building.
As Chang Xu's gaze swept across the scene, the sights, sounds, and sensations of the environment flooded his senses. The feeling of reality layered itself over him, and the sense of disconnect from the unfamiliar surroundings quickly faded, as if he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere but had walked here with purpose all along.
It was late autumn. The branches of the trees were mostly bare, with only a few withered leaves clinging stubbornly to them. A sea of blood-red maple leaves covered the concrete ground, crunching underfoot with a sound like crackling flames.
Chang Xu lowered his eyes. The leaves on the ground were being flattened and kicked aside, as if a crowd of people were walking over them.
But strangely, he hadn't seen a single soul from start to finish. It was as if he'd been trapped alone in some isolated, alternate dimension.
"My friend, are you perhaps the Chang Xu?" a cultured voice, sounding relatively young, came from behind him.
Chang Xu turned to see a young man in a white lab coat and rectangular glasses walking toward him from the maple forest. He wore a warm smile. "I am Say Dream from the Listening Wind Guild. You can just call me Say Dream. It's my screen name, by the way. Better not to share my real one—it's nothing special."
The name "Say Dream" wasn't famous, but it wasn't unfamiliar either. He was quite active in the strategy section of the game forums; at least, Chang Xu had heard of him.
As for whether this person was the real deal, there was no way to verify that.
Seeing the man who called himself "Say Dream" about to step within a five-meter radius, Chang Xu said coolly, "I'm live-streaming. Any closer and you'll be in the shot."
Say Dream paused, and after a moment, he chuckled nonchalantly. "Ah, I know. I've done my research... watched your streams. It's no big deal. I'm streaming too, just for fun."
Chang Xu nodded and, ignoring him, turned to climb the steps to the memorial hall's entrance.
Seeing this, Say Dream was startled and quickly grabbed the corner of Chang Xu's sleeve. "Hey, don't be so reckless! Jump scares behind doors and false entrances are common tropes in the Weird Game. Aren't you going to take any precautions? It's just the two of us here. If something happens to you, I'll be toast soon after."
Chang Xu stopped without a change in expression and raised an eyebrow at him. "It's just the two of us here?"
"Yes," Say Dream confirmed with a nod. "To be honest, I entered with three friends, and now they've all vanished. I've tried every means of communication, but I can't reach them. I suspect you and I have been isolated in this space for some reason."
Seeing Chang Xu lost in thought, he continued, "This place gives me a very strange feeling. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's not good. I suggest you don't make any rash moves. We could play it safe, review the information we have so far together..."
"Welcome, visitors, to the Indigenous Victims Memorial Hall. I will be your guide for this tour," a rich female voice called out from a distance, interrupting their conversation.
Both men simultaneously turned toward the source of the voice.
A middle-aged woman dressed in black gauze like a nun, holding a small red flag, was walking gracefully toward them over the carpet of red maple leaves.
A modern-looking megaphone was clipped to her waist.
The woman stopped at the entrance of the memorial hall and offered a polite smile to Chang Xu, who was closest to her. "'Medina' is the name shared by our family. Everyone calls me 'Ms. Medina,' and you may do so as well."
Her words sparked his intuition. Chang Xu asked coolly, "What is your family's relationship with this land? Was someone at the Red Maple Boarding School..."
Say Dream clapped a hand over his mouth and flashed the woman a friendly smile. "It's a pleasure to have such a beautiful lady as our guide. Before we enter the memorial hall, I was wondering if you could tell us a bit about this place and its history?"
"I was supposed to explain these things as we toured," the woman said, glancing at Chang Xu, who was staring at her inquisitively. She smiled kindly. "But I can give you a general overview. I trust that you've done some research before coming here and are already aware of some things."
Say Dream's expression turned serious as he prepared to listen intently.
The woman began her story. "This place was once a boarding school, first established in the nineteenth century. It took in many indigenous children to teach them advanced knowledge and culture. My grandmother and great-grandmother both taught here. In fact, my great-grandmother was one of the very first teachers."
"They hoped to help the indigenous children survive better, but unfortunately, due to certain misunderstandings and various regrettable reasons, most of the children who came to the school fell ill and died. The old school building was also destroyed once and wasn't rebuilt until the last century."
"After the turn of this century, to commemorate those poor children and to promote understanding and unity between different peoples, the Federation converted the school into a memorial hall to preserve some of the historical materials left behind for future generations to observe."
Her calm narration was smooth, but anyone with discerning eyes could hear the bloody horror lurking beneath the surface.
The deaths had already happened. What use was any amount of commemoration to the victims now that their lives were gone?
Of course, neither of them were sentimental saints. They had enough trouble sympathizing with their own plight, let alone wasting any on the NPCs who were mere background props in this dungeon.
Chang Xu studied the woman's light brown complexion and asked, "What is your ethnicity?"
The woman froze for a moment before replying with a hint of bitterness, "I've forgotten the name of my people. So many things on this land never had names, did they? But I know I belong to the same race as the indigenous people from here."
She waved her guide's flag, turned, and walked into the memorial hall, giving them no more time for questions. "Please stay close to me. The memorial hall is very large, with many exhibits. You mustn't get lost." Chang Xu and Say Dream exchanged a look and, without hesitation, followed the woman leading the way.
The first floor of the memorial hall was a massive, single-story hall. As far as the eye could see, there were no other visitors.
In the empty space, dozens of glass display cases were arranged in a circle, containing various artifacts. In the distance, they could see some yellowed papers, likely the "historical materials" the woman had mentioned.
Fog would occasionally cloud the glass display cases, as if curious children were leaning against them and breathing on the surface. Faint, greasy fingerprints could be seen tracing paths across the glass.
The memorial hall seemed to be full of people, people who could neither be seen nor touched.
The woman walked to a wall, pointed, and her voice, amplified by the megaphone, was distorted and detached. "Come take a look. These are the children who died at the Red Maple Boarding School back then. They were lucky enough to have their pictures taken. Many more unfortunate children left nothing behind at all."
"So many died back then..."
Chang Xu looked up.
On the gray-black stone wall, hundreds of photos were embedded in a dense mosaic. Face after faded face, like tombstones, stared out at him, their lifeless eyes fixed upon him.
One photo stood out, its colors remarkably vivid. It showed the face of an adult man, his eyes wide with terror.
Using that photo as a reference point, Chang Xu scanned the surrounding images.
He noticed that mixed in among the hundreds of children's photos were twenty-nine portraits of adults, men and women of various ethnicities from all over the world.
Chang Xu examined the photos one by one until a startlingly familiar face suddenly jumped out at him.
The delicate features, the gentle eyes, the thin, narrow lips—it was unmistakably Qi Si!
He walked closer and saw the number in the bottom-right corner of the photo—
"47".
...
"47, in your memory, has Ms. Medina ever been injured or sick?"
After seeing the main objective, [Kill Ms. Medina], Jiang Junjue casually asked Qi Si, who was beside him.
Qi Si stared intently at the dirt remaining in the puddles on the floor, looking as though he was still shaken.
After a long pause, he said in a reminiscent tone, "Maybe she has. I remember she fell down the stairs once and bled a lot. She was in a terrible mood for a while after that and punished several students."
The players mentally noted the information:
First, Ms. Medina could be harmed. Her physical constitution was similar to a human's, so killing her was not an impossible task.
Second, Ms. Medina would enter a second phase after being injured and would punish students more frequently. Therefore, they had to be cautious and aim for a one-hit kill.
The group left the bathroom and rejoined the players waiting outside, the gravity of the situation reflected on each of their faces.
NPCs in official dungeons were usually unkillable. A mission to assassinate one was extremely rare, and there were few precedents on the forums to draw from.
Moreover, the gruesome way that player in the confinement room had died was still fresh in their minds. Who knew if, in the process of attacking Ms. Medina, they wouldn't be subjected to the same confinement and suffer a miserable death.
The players vaguely remembered the scene at the start of the dungeon, how Ms. Medina had said a single sentence and controlled a player to walk into the confinement room on their own.
Although the two Ms. Medinas looked different, who was to say that this one didn't possess similar abilities?
Outside the bathroom, Jiang Junjue concisely recounted what had happened inside, making the players who hadn't yet showered even more anxious.
There was definitely a ghost in the bathroom, and someone had just died there. The thought was deeply unsettling.
But under the rules, they had no choice but to proceed.
The remaining twenty players eventually split into male and female groups and reluctantly finished their showers.
It seemed all the danger of the day had been concentrated in that first trip; the next two groups of players encountered nothing unusual.
Jiang Junjue lit a cigarette and mumbled around it, "I have a theory about the cause of death. He wasn't necessarily killed by being put in confinement, or he wouldn't have waited until now to die in front of us. What probably killed him was the dirt on his back. Everyone be careful not to get any of that filth on you."
"Not necessarily. He might have died in front of us to trigger the main objective," Chen Lidong offered a different opinion.
He knew Jiang Junjue's "confinement isn't lethal" argument was meant to dispel the players' fear and encourage them to act against Ms. Medina.
As a "philanthropist" unaffected by the school rules, Chen Lidong preferred the players to remain afraid.
That way, he would be the only one who dared to make a move, and his dungeon performance score would surely be much higher.
He analyzed with feigned seriousness, "It makes sense if we're afraid because someone died in confinement. We feel like we're doomed if we don't act, so we decide to kill Ms. Medina. Otherwise, why would we students risk our necks to kill someone?"
Beside him, Zhou Datong asked blankly, "But 47 came out of the confinement room, and he didn't die, right?"
"Are you stupid?" Chen Lidong's eye twitched. "How can you compare an NPC to a player?"
Jiang Junjue laughed it off. "It's all just speculation anyway. Who knows what's right or wrong. Let's drop it. Everyone should head back to the dorms and get some sleep."
He exhaled a cloud of smoke, yawned, and sauntered toward the stairwell next to the bathroom.
The players exchanged glances and followed in a large group.
The old iron staircase was heavily rusted, and each step produced a grating creak, as if it might fall apart at any moment.
As usual, Qi Si walked at the rear of the group, nonchalantly brushing at the wrinkles on his school uniform.
Something at the edge of his vision caught his eye. He looked down and saw a red maple leaf emblem on the chest of his uniform. Below it, the number "47" was written in black ink.
Qi Si remembered that when he first saw this uniform in the confinement room, it had no markings on it at all.
When had this uniform changed?