As the mercenaries disappeared into the depths of the lower levels, Lan’s grin widened.
“Did you catch that? The way they looked at us, like they were feeling sorry for us. I almost want to see the look on their faces when they run into those Lickers. And seriously, why does Alexandra insist on hanging with them?”
Secured by three heavy steel gates and backed by a laser defense channel beyond the final barrier, this spot had the best security in the facility.
Compared to the dangerous path taken by the surface team, it was easily the safest place in the Hive.
With the immediate threat handled, a wave of relief washed over them, and Jie pulled out a pack of cigarettes with a casual smile, offering one to Zha.
“Maybe she’s got her own reasons,” Jie said, lighting up.
He watched the blast door through the smoke for a moment.
“Alexandra’s motives have always been hard to read.”
Zha shook his head.
“I don’t know. She looked terrified, sure, but she still went. After what I saw back there, I’d call that brave.”
“Brave?” Lan asked.
“Or stubborn.”
“Could be both.”
Jie gave them a sideways glance.
“You two are assuming she made the decision for the same reason you would.”
Lan raised an eyebrow.
“You have a better explanation?”
“No.”
That answer drew a small laugh from Zha.
Jie took another drag from his cigarette.
He had watched Alexandra shake during the laser corridor.
He had watched her move before anyone else had fully understood what was happening.
She had saved Rain, then J.D., and afterward she had gone pale and nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
Whatever else could be said about her, the fear had looked real.
That didn’t make her decision any easier to understand.
What unsettled him wasn’t the possibility that she was reckless or empathetic—it was the feeling that she was playing a game so far outside standard survival logic that he couldn’t grasp the rules yet.
Maybe she was simply the sort of person who couldn’t sit safely behind a locked door while others walked into danger.
Maybe she knew something she hadn’t told them.
Or maybe she was an actress who had learned to turn genuine panic into purposeful action.
Or maybe Jie was overthinking it.
He had learned a long time ago that people rarely made decisions for reasons that made sense to anyone else.
Zha leaned back against the wall.
“Whatever her reason was, she can handle herself.”
Lan smiled faintly.
“You sound pretty confident.”
“I watched her shoot. I watched her move. I’m not saying I understand her. I’m saying I wouldn’t bet against her.”
Xiaoyi, who had been listening quietly, snorted.
“You people are acting like she’s some kind of superhero.”
Zha looked at him.
“Did you see what happened in the corridor?”
“Yeah.”
“And the zombies?”
“Yeah.”
“Then maybe she just happens to be good at surviving.”
Xiaoyi muttered something under his breath about people lying without blinking or showing off for the mercenaries, but he kept it quiet enough to avoid another lecture.
Jie ignored the exchange and looked toward the blast door again.
Alexandra had been frightened; that much was obvious.
Whether that made her courageous, reckless, empathetic, suspiciously well-prepared, or simply very good at pretending remained an open question.
For now, Jie had more immediate problems to worry about.
He took another drag from his cigarette and said, “Anyway, you wanted to know about God’s Exchange System…”
Passing the pack along, Zha noticed the tobacco tasted better than anything he had smoked back home.
Interested, he asked, “Do they even offer smokes in God’s Exchange System?”
Squinting through the smoke, Jie thought it over for a moment.
“God’s Exchange System offers a ton of stuff, way more than I’ve had time to check out thoroughly. They basically fall into four main categories. First off, there’s the tech stuff—guns, body armor, even sci-fi weapons. But man, their prices are sky-high, way out of my league… The second category is all about magic gear—scrolls, Chinese talismans, all kinds of amulets and swords.”
Xiaoyi’s eyes lit up.
“Are these like the weapons you find in video games? Must be pretty powerful!”
Jie shot him a sideways glance.
“I can’t say for sure how strong they are, but the exchange rates for magic gear are double what they are for the tech stuff. I reckon they’re meant for scenarios like ghost stories or monster movies. I’m not exactly sure how they work, though.”
Intrigued, Zha asked, “Ghost stories and monster movies?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Jie nodded, pausing for a moment before continuing.
“Think about The Grudge, for example.”
Just mentioning the title made the air in the room feel colder, as if something unseen were hovering right behind them.
“Do you know why I find Resident Evil somewhat manageable as far as horror movies go? It’s because, in this world, explanations usually come from tech and real physical stuff. You can fight monsters, dodge danger, and try to survive, as long as you don’t get infected with the T-virus and keep your hands on plenty of weapons.”
A flicker of dread showed in Jie’s eyes as he remembered.
“But when horror movies start messing with things beyond tech and reality, it’s like a never-ending nightmare. Death feels like it’s lurking around every corner, its cause and timing completely unknown. You might not even know if you’ve already kicked the bucket. It’s a chilling reality where fear sticks to you like glue, hell-bent on dragging you down into despair.”
Zha gave Jie’s shoulder a comforting pat before sitting beside him.
“Kind of like Nightmare on Elm Street, huh?”
Jie nodded solemnly.
“Yeah, exactly. The stuff we went through in that movie was terrifying on a whole other level. Losing over a dozen lives, every single death brutal and tragic. We were desperate to get out, so we followed a survivor’s lead and hijacked a truck. We took turns driving for days on end, paranoid about falling asleep. If someone started nodding off, the others were quick to shake them awake. We held out for five gut-wrenching days.”
Jie shuddered slightly as he recalled the end of that ordeal.
Their relief had been short-lived.
After days of taking turns driving and waking each other up the moment their eyes grew heavy, they had finally reached a town.
For a fleeting moment, hope surged; they actually believed they were safe.
Then came the terrifying realization that the town was just another part of the nightmare.
Even worse, their driver had already transformed into a horrific monster, sneering at them right before the carnage started all over again…
Zha noticed Jie’s hands shaking, his calm exterior cracking.
Sensing the need to steer the conversation elsewhere, he jumped in.
“So, can these legendary artifacts actually take down the nightmare demon?”
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Jie shook his head firmly.
“I can’t say for sure. My survival in that movie was pure luck, and I barely understood what was happening. These scars on my face are reminders of the demon’s cruelty, every single one carved deep. I passed on the System’s healing, choosing to keep these as reminders. But if fate ever throws me back into that nightmare, you can bet I’ll be the one bringing down that demon!”
Zha and the others exchanged uneasy glances, the tension hanging heavy in the air as they faced the unknown.
Breaking the silence, Jie brought up an incredible figure amidst the uncertainty.
“Taking down that nightmare demon bags you 5,000 reward points and a Rank B Side Quest. It’s rare—I’ve never seen a reward like that pop up anywhere else.”
Curious, Lan chimed in, “What’s a Rank B Side Quest, and why should we care?”
Jie explained, filling them in on their long-term survival strategy.
“That brings us to the third category of exchangeable items—support stuff. You’ve got detoxifiers, immune boosters, all sorts of meds, ammo, and even high-tech gear like invisibility cloaks that hide your presence. Plus, there are enhancement items.”
Reflecting on his first encounter with them, Jie continued, “Those enhancement items blew my mind… Take the Spider-Man Gene Mutation, for example. It gives you the genetic traits of the movie hero, boosting your attributes by four hundred and forty points total—intelligence, mental strength, cell vitality, reaction speed, muscle power, and immunity. In the System, attribute points usually cost ten reward points each, so buying those raw stats individually would set you back over four thousand points. But the Spider-Man mutation gives you the whole package, plus spider silk skills, for just two thousand reward points.”
Lan counted on her fingers, nodding in agreement.
“That’s huge savings on raw stats alone. So why didn’t you go for it?”
With a bitter smile and a wave of his hand, Jie admitted, “I was sorely tempted, believe me. With that kind of genetic boost, surviving in horror movies like Resident Evil would be a hell of a lot easier. But there’s a catch—it eats up Rank Side Quests. A Rank A Side Quest can be swapped for three Rank B ones, and so on down the line. A Rank D Side Quest is the lowest, and I’ve only come across that kind of task once. Those chances are scarce and not something you can just go looking for.”
Feeling his throat go dry, Zha held back from sharing his own run-in with a Rank B Side Quest.
Instead, he asked, “What rank Side Quest does the Spider-Man Gene Mutation need?”
Jie lit another cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he replied, “It needs a Rank B Side Quest. I’ve also spotted some D-grade enhancements, like Basic Internal Qi. It bumps up mental strength by ten, cell vitality by twenty, reaction speed by twenty, muscle power by thirty, and immunity by twenty. Plus, it gives you a bit of ‘Qi,’ basic internal energy. But to learn the deeper martial arts moves, you’re looking at Rank B or Rank A Side Quests. Take Basic Internal Qi, for instance—that’ll set you back five hundred reward points plus one Rank D Side Quest.”
“In Resident Evil, there’s this incredible option called the T-Virus Perfect Mutation, where the T-virus merges perfectly inside the body. It boosts brainpower by twenty points, mental strength by twenty, gives cells a fifty-point boost, speeds up reflexes by fifty, pumps muscle power by fifty, and makes the immune system a hundred times stronger. That’s a massive upgrade. But here’s the catch—to unlock all that, you have to drop fifteen hundred reward points plus clear a Rank C Side Quest. Talk about lady luck shining on the leading lady.”
Zha couldn’t help but grin.
This bombshell meant that if he made it out of this horror movie alive, he’d be able to level up significantly, giving him some real backing for future worlds.
Then, Jie spoke up with a mysterious look on his face, adding more to the conversation.
“And let’s not forget about the high-tier upgrades up for grabs.
Some of them sound straight out of a fantasy novel.
Like the God Bloodline, for example.
It cranks all six attributes to divine levels and throws in supernatural powers for good measure.
But to get your hands on that, you have to complete a Rank S Side Quest and cough up fifty thousand reward points.
Now that’s what I call a fortune.
And if that’s not crazy enough, there’s something even wilder—the Cultivation Method of Immortality.
Sure, it might not boost your raw stats as fast as the God Bloodline, but it promises true immortality.
Like, ascending into a celestial being and all that.
But reaching that goal requires a Rank S Side Quest and a whopping seventy thousand reward points.
It’s almost funny how impossible those prices sound, isn’t it?”
Zha and Lan shared a laugh, while Xiaoyi’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the possibilities.
After pausing to think it over, Zha asked another question.
“What about the fourth category? Seems like the first three cover almost everything, don’t they?”
Jie’s grin turned sly as he continued.
“Now, the fourth category, that’s where things get interesting. You know, surviving horror movies like this can really mess with your head. So, what’s this category all about? It’s all about coping—ways to relax and take the edge off.”
“You’ve got your basics: smokes, booze, drugs. And let me tell you, they’re practically free—you can score a kilo of pure drugs for just five reward points, and selling a handful in the real world could fetch you a fortune. Talk about a bargain, right? The System did the math—with decent cell vitality and immunity, around three hundred and fifty points each, you can mess around with narcotics completely worry-free. Your body just neutralizes the damage instantly. Pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.”
“But hold on, there’s more! In this category, you can even trade points for time back in the real world to enjoy yourself. Music, movies—hell, you can even trade for company!”
Jie couldn’t help but chuckle as he dropped this bombshell.
Zha, scratching his head, replied with a completely blank face, “I’ll pass on the blow-up dolls, thanks.”
Jie’s hand landed reassuringly on Zha’s shoulder.
“Hold on a second, buddy. I’m not talking about cheap rubber goods here. I’m talking about something way more incredible—real, living women created by the System itself! These ladies aren’t puppets; they have intelligence, personalities, memories, the whole deal. And when you create one, you get to customize every single detail—from looks and body type to age, background, and even the tiniest physical features. Ever played Artificial Girl? Well, let me tell you, the women created by the System put video games to shame. You could even whip up a beauty with hair down to her ankles if that’s your style.”
Xiaoyi’s eyes lit up with interest once more, while Lan let out a scoff from beside them.
Setting aside the jokes, Jie’s tone turned serious.
“In the unpredictable world of horror movies, who knows if we’ll even make it to the next chapter. So, I wanted a companion of my own choosing by my side. Believe me, once you experience it, you’ll see she’s more than just a distraction. Even though she’s created by the System, she’s got more life and authenticity than plenty of real-world women. Plus, she genuinely cares about you. You can spill your guts to her without worrying about betrayal. The System guarantees that when we head back to the real world with enough reward points, our upgraded stats stay with us, and we keep all our stuff. This woman will come with me, and if I get the chance, I’m marrying her. She’s the one I’m going to love with all my heart for as long as I live!”
His words carried a tone of genuine warmth and earnestness, earning a quiet respect from Zha and the others.
In a world where genuine connection was so rare, and relationships were often reduced to convenience or money, they couldn’t help but admire someone who held love in such high regard.
Lan touched her forehead, smoothly steering the conversation away from the subject.
“Let me stop you right there, gentlemen. We have a lady present, so let’s keep things appropriate. Jie, maybe you could fill us in on what happens in God’s Space. What goes down after we survive a horror movie?”
Jie took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying.
“Honestly, it’s pretty straightforward. Once you clear a horror movie, you get pulled straight back to God’s Space. God itself appears as a giant glowing sphere floating right in the middle, and you communicate with it through mental link. Twenty rooms surround the central platform, though they’ve all been empty in my experience. Everyone gets their own room, and you can change the size and layout however you want, but no one can enter without your permission. Also, after every horror movie, we get a ten-day break in God’s Space. That’s pretty much how it works.”
A momentary quiet settled over them, a fragile calm that was suddenly broken by a heavy metallic scrape coming from deep down the hallway.
Jie was the first to react, bolting toward the small reinforced window in the steel gate with his heart pounding against his ribs.
The others crowded behind him, straining their eyes through the glass into the brightly lit corridor.
But nothing was there.
“Red Queen!” Lan called out, her voice tight with tension.
“Status on the hallway!”
The flat, synthetic voice of the little girl echoed through the speaker.
“Two Lickers attacking the outer perimeter gate. It will hold… for another forty seconds.”
Jie cursed under his breath.
“Damn it! I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Those things must have caught our scent. The outer gate won’t stop them for long. Thank God we’re in here, but… how are the others going to survive?” He glanced down at his wristwatch, where the glowing red countdown displayed seventeen minutes remaining.
Uncertainty and fear showed on everyone’s faces as they looked at each other.
Seventeen minutes against massive, mutated creatures, armed with nothing but standard guns…
their chances looked grim.
Desperation drove Zha and Lan to take a risk.
Working together, they manipulated the Red Queen by exploiting her programmed priorities, pleading for her to unleash the corridor’s laser defense system.
For a few agonized seconds, nothing happened.
The metal gate groaned under another heavy blow.
Then, a sharp mechanical hum vibrated through the floor plates.
“It’s working,” Jie breathed, leaning against the reinforced glass.
A grid of razor-thin laser light ignited in the hallway, sweeping forward silently.
Monstrous forms lumbered into the hallway, far larger and more brutal than the Lickers they had anticipated.
Standing several meters tall, the eyeless creatures rippled with exposed muscle under the bright overhead lights.
Their most horrifying feature was their tongues—thick ropes of muscle that could whip out over a meter long, acting like lethal spears.
The lasers passed through both creatures in a fraction of a second before shutting off.
For a moment, the Lickers stood frozen.
Then, dark red lines split open down their massive bodies.
With a sickening crunch, their top and bottom halves separated, collapsing onto the floor in twitching heaps of flesh.
A massive sigh of relief went through the room, heavy breathing filling the small space.
Jie slid down to the floor, pulling out his cigarettes with trembling hands.
He handed one to Zha and flipped another to Xiaoyi, who caught it awkwardly, caught off guard by the sudden gesture.
Lighting his cigarette, Jie took a long, slow drag, smoke curling around his face.
“Now you know what real fear is,” he rasped, his voice rough.
“Horror movies? Hah! I’ve lived through three of them! And I still don’t know how I made it out… This place isn’t for normal people. We shouldn’t be here.”
A tight smile touched Zha and Lan’s faces.
Despite their attempt to stay calm, their reaction to the Lickers hadn’t gone unnoticed.
The shaking hands and heavy sweating made it clear how close they had felt to dying.
The laser system had saved them, but the terror was still fresh.
“Keep your guard up,” Zha muttered under his breath.
“The laser system worked this time, but we can’t rely on it for everything.”
Before Jie could respond, the control room plunged into pitch darkness as the power cut out.
Panic flared across their faces.
They scrambled toward the window, hearts hammering against their ribs as they strained to see through the glass into the pitch-black hallway.
The laser’s glow was gone, swallowed by complete darkness.
“Damn it!” Jie slammed his fist against the steel gate, swearing out loud.
“The main power goes out here. I remember this from the movie…”
Jie grimaced as he scanned the impenetrable darkness, his handgun heavy in his sweaty grip.
It was a low-caliber, basic model he’d bought during his first scenario—weak against real armor, but the cheap unlimited-ammo upgrade had kept him alive this long.
The facility’s overhead lights and laser grid had died with the base generator, but on Jie’s wrist, the bright red digital numbers of God’s watch continued their relentless countdown, unaffected by local power failures.
Silence settled over the room, heavy and suffocating, broken only by their ragged breathing and pounding hearts.
The pitch darkness made every sound feel louder, turning every breath into a loud echo in the small room.
Heavy, wet breathing and the grating sound of metal scraping against concrete echoed from the unseen corridor, each noise hitting their nerves like a hammer blow.
They didn’t need light to know a Licker was standing right outside the steel gate.
Zha turned toward Lan, his voice down to a tiny whisper.
“How much time? How long on the watch?”
Lan looked down at her wrist, where the bright red digital numbers flared in the pitch black.
“One minute, fifty-six seconds,” she whispered, her voice tight.
It felt like an eternity in the dark.
Then, a deafening BANG rattled the gate.
A jagged metal point punched through the heavy steel, followed by another, and another.
Their hearts hammered in their chests as terror pushed them backward, crowding them into the far corner of the room like cornered prey, eyes locked on the door.
More heavy crashes shook the room, each strike tearing larger chunks out of the gate.
Finally, with a loud tear, massive claws ripped through the steel like cardboard, carving a wide hole.
In the darkness beyond, a grotesque shape formed—the Licker’s horrifying face staring into the room.
Nine seconds left.
Eight.
Seven.
A loud scream burst from Zha and Jie.
Panicked, they pulled their triggers, but in the pitch blackness and chaos, their shots went wild, ricocheting off the concrete walls.
Angered by the noise, the Licker roared and kicked aside the torn metal, launching its huge body straight into the room in a flash of muscle and claws.
Six seconds left.
Five.
Four.
Suddenly, a sharp whoosh cut through the dark.
Before the Licker’s claws could hit them, another razor-sharp tongue shot out from the shadow of the hallway, impaling the monster with terrifying speed.
Three seconds left.
Two.
One.
The dark room turned into a battlefield of monsters.
They could only stand there, hearts pounding in their throats, listening to the horrific fight unfolding just inches away in the dark…