Lin Qian had no intention of using his last chance to open a door on a nearby room.
He chose a different direction and walked straight down the corridor, keeping an eye on what the other survivors were doing.
After their initial confusion and panic, people had calmed down and begun exploring. Every so often, someone shouted in the channel about the good things they had found.
The people Lin Qian encountered in the corridor, however, were rather cold.
Perhaps not many people wandered this far down the corridor as he did, so those who saw him instinctively became wary.
Lin Qian kept his expression calm, but his nerves were taut. He gripped the pistol hidden in his sleeve and watched for any movement around him.
620. 637. 654.
He committed the numbers of several rooms with red lights to memory, intending to pay special attention to them in the channel later. After all, these people were practically his neighbors, and a little caution never hurt.
"Forget it. I won't go any farther."
Lin Qian stopped outside Room 666 and glanced at the countdown. Two hours remained. If nothing unexpected happened, that should be enough time to search one room.
Having made up his mind, he turned and pushed open the door.
"Such a lucky number. Hope there's something good inside."
But before he had finished speaking, with the door only halfway open, a sinister chill swept over him.
Realizing something was wrong, Lin Qian turned to run. Just then, a pitch-black tentacle shot out of the darkness beyond the door and whipped around his neck. It tightened like a python and gave a powerful tug, yanking him off his feet and dragging him backward into the room.
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind him.
...
His heels scraped across the floor. Lin Qian watched helplessly as the door closed, his face flushing red. He clawed at the tentacle around his neck with one hand, his fingernails clicking against its scales.
"I can't hold on! I have to take a chance!"
As his vision began to blur, Lin Qian gritted his teeth and pressed the pistol he had been clutching against the tentacle around his neck. He was about to fire, heedless of whether he hit himself.
Suddenly, the tentacle snapped back. The pressure around his neck vanished, and he fell flat on his back. Blood rushed back to his brain, and an even fiercer chill spread from his spine through the rest of his body.
"Hah... Hah..."
He gulped down fresh air. Once the dizziness had eased a little, he struggled up onto one knee and put his other hand on the gun, ready to fire at any moment.
But everything before him was pitch-black. He couldn't see a thing.
Remembering the lighter in his Storage Space, Lin Qian was about to take it out when a flame appeared ahead of him.
The flame was neither yellow nor white, but an eerie crimson. Its light revealed a figure completely shrouded in a black robe.
Tall and gaunt, nearly two meters in height, the figure stood with its back to Lin Qian, tending to the flame.
A moment later, the flame grew larger. With a casual push from the figure, an oil lamp floated eerily through the air, gliding toward Lin Qian like a paper boat on water.
By its light, Lin Qian could finally see the room.
Old display cabinets lined the walls, filled with jars and bottles. He could just make out things still struggling inside some of them.
Directly ahead stood a blood-red round table with a chair behind it. The black-robed figure walked silently over and sat down.
Lin Qian heard no footsteps, only a rustling sound like writhing tentacles.
"Sorry. It's been so long since I had a new guest. I couldn't help getting a little excited. Heh heh heh~"
The sudden, raspy voice echoed through the cramped room. Its tone seemed to suppress intense excitement and anticipation.
Lin Qian's nerves were stretched to the limit. His heart pounded like a bell in his ears, but he forced himself to remain calm.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
He made no rash moves, keeping his eyes fixed on the figure.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, it produced a deck of pitch-black cards and laid them neatly on the blood-red table, one by one.
"Come on, little one. Pick a card, and let's start our game~"
Seven cards lay in a row. The figure rubbed its hands together inside its sleeves, speaking in a coaxing tone.
Lin Qian ignored it and turned to leave, only to find that rows of display cabinets blocked the way behind him. The door was nowhere to be seen.
A drop of cold sweat ran down his cheek as he turned back to face the figure.
"Hee hee hee~"
The figure let out a strange laugh.
"Give it up. You can't go back there until we finish our wager!"
Something writhed grotesquely beneath the robe, making Lin Qian's scalp tingle.
"What if I refuse to play? What happens then?"
He forced down his fear as he asked.
"Nothing much. But you'll have to stay here and keep me company from now on!"
"Hee hee hee~ I'd quite like that, actually. Being trapped here all alone is so terribly lonely..."
It seemed eager for Lin Qian to stay, and there was a hint of delight in its voice.
The oil lamp hovered beside him, but he couldn't feel the slightest warmth from it. Instead, the inexplicable chill seeping into his bones was growing stronger.
"It's not my imagination..."
He rubbed his stiffening fingers, tucked his clothes more tightly around himself, and stepped forward.
"Tell me the rules."
He had a vague premonition that if he stayed here too long, he might suffer serious, irreversible consequences.
"Very simple. The seven cards have the numbers one through seven on them. We each draw one, and the higher number wins. If I lose, you may choose one of three items from my collection to take with you. But if you lose..."
From the shadows beneath the hood, Lin Qian faintly heard a wet, slimy sound, as though something were licking its lips.
"You leave your heart behind~"
"Hee hee hee~"
The figure snickered again, unable to hide the anticipation in its voice.
"Come on, let's begin..."
Lin Qian stepped forward without hesitation and planted both hands on the table.
But he was far less composed than he appeared. His heart had already sunk to the bottom.
"Who draws first?"
"Why, I do, of course~"
A tentacle covered in black scales rose from beneath the table. It hovered over the cards for a moment before finally drawing one.
Keeping it close to the tabletop, the figure lifted a corner and let out a gleeful little laugh. It seemed to have drawn a good card.
"Hee hee hee~ Your turn~"
A drop of cold sweat slid down Lin Qian's temple. He let out a long breath, steadied himself, and drew the card closest to him.
He carefully lifted it. The moment he saw the number, his pupils contracted.
[1]
Out of the seven numbers, he had drawn the lowest.
He had no chance of winning...
In an instant, it felt as though a giant invisible hand had seized his heart. A crushing sense of suffocation made his eyes widen, and sweat poured from him like rain, quickly soaking the edge of the table.
A fear unlike anything he had ever known gripped him. The icy chill pierced his skin like tentacles, burrowing inch by inch into his marrow. He could even feel his body slipping beyond his control.
"Hah... Hah..."
He staggered, bracing himself against the table with both hands as breathing became agonizingly difficult.
"Judging by that look, you didn't have much luck?"
"Hee hee hee~"
The figure held its card down with a tentacle and leaned forward, revealing a small portion of its withered, woodlike chin.
"Well? Would you like to beg me to let you off?"
"If you admit defeat, I can lower the stakes~"
It drew closer and closer, its black robe trailing across the table as its body twisted unnaturally like a great serpent.
The red flame grew weaker, and the room gradually darkened.
Lin Qian looked as though he had been dragged out of the water. His whole body was drenched in sweat, his lips were pale, and he was shaking uncontrollably.
"I could... settle for one of your eyes..."
"How about it? One eye won't kill you~"
"Just admit defeat, and you can live~"
It leaned closer still, until its voice sounded almost against his ear. Its coaxing words were like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. Even Lin Qian found himself thinking, Admit defeat! Admit defeat and you'll live!
But the last shred of reason he had left was warning him that something was wrong with this wager.
From the start, the figure had acted as though victory was assured.
It had laughed when it drew its card.
And Lin Qian hadn't concealed his own reaction when he saw his number.
To anyone watching, the outcome would seem certain.
More suspicious still, the stakes weren't equal. He had no idea what the three items in its collection were, yet he was being forced to wager his life.
If anyone had reason to be cautious, it should have been him, not the figure. The price of a mistake was more than he could afford.
But what Lin Qian understood least was when he had become such a coward.
Had the mere realization that he was going to lose nearly frightened him into pissing his pants?
Fear was natural. Who wasn't afraid of dying?
But to be this afraid... something was wrong.
All these signs gave Lin Qian an idea.
This wager didn't seem to be a simple contest of luck.
If it were, the creature had clearly already won. Why go to such lengths to coax him into admitting defeat?
Lin Qian decided to take a massive gamble.
He wasn't certain he was right, but he wasn't acting recklessly without reason, either.
With difficulty, he raised his head and stared into the face of the black-robed figure inches away. His body felt as though it were pinned beneath a thousand-pound boulder.
"Show... your card!!!"