Blue Mountain Psychiatric Hospital 8

Drip... drip...

Qi Chanyang carefully made his way down the stairs.

The lights in the first-floor corridor were off, but a little moonlight leaked into the lobby, casting a deathly white patch across the floor.

Qi Chanyang's gaze sharpened.

He slowed his steps and silently approached the security office.

The security guard who had drooled while staring at the players that night was now sitting on a stool, eyes wide open, a steel pipe through his chest. No one knew how long he had been dead.

Qi Chanyang had a passive skill called "The Clay Figure's Self-Cultivation," which allowed him to vaguely sense dangerous NPCs drawing near.

He pressed himself to the wall and waited for a moment. Once he sensed no living NPCs in the security office, he gently pushed open the door.

Only after opening it did Qi Chanyang realize that the elderly human guard was human only from the waist up. The lower half of his body had been stitched to the body of some kind of dog.

The security office was not in disarray, and there were no signs of a struggle.

Qi Chanyang went to the guard's side and carefully examined the wound.

Killed in a single blow.

The guard NPC did not seem as strong as the patient NPCs. Qi Chanyang was confident he could deal with it, but there was no way he could have done so this easily, killing the monster with one steel pipe.

What exactly had gotten into this instance?

A monster that could so easily insta-kill an ordinary NPC had to be the boss of at least a Level-Three Dungeon. How could it be in a Level-One Dungeon?

Qi Chanyang frowned deeply, but his hands did not stop moving.

There was not much in the security office. After searching it, he found only a few local daily newspapers. He leafed through them in the moonlight. They all appeared to carry perfectly ordinary news.

Qi Chanyang had just put the newspapers away when his eyes fell on the calendar hanging in the security office.

August 11.

Qi Chanyang frowned and looked again at the newspaper in his hand.

Blue Mountain City Evening News, Issue 411, August 11.

What day was it today? Was it the eleventh?

This was clearly not the time to think carefully about such a question. Qi Chanyang could only put the newspapers away first, swallowing them into his stomach.

"Cow Stomach" could store one cubic meter of items. It was an excellent skill for hiding all kinds of clues.

He surveyed the room again and found no more clues, so he pushed open the door and slipped out.

Right beside the security office was the badminton court. Qi Chanyang opened its door and looked around. The empty court was pitch-black.

Qi Chanyang's heart skipped a beat. He felt uneasy all over.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard a familiar voice from the restroom by the badminton court.

"Who... who's at the door?"

Qi Chanyang paused. "Xie Fangcheng?"

"It's me!" The voice from the restroom answered, almost weeping with joy. "Did you come to save me?"

Something was wrong.

Qi Chanyang tightened his grip on his weapon.

He slowly approached the restroom. "Why are you here? Come out. I'll take you back."

"I can't get out... Can you come help me?"

"Where are you?"

Qi Chanyang reached the restroom door and pushed it open.

There was no one inside.

Just then, the voice abruptly drew close.

"I'm... right behind you."

Qi Chanyang kicked off the ground, twisting sideways and shooting away almost flat against the floor.

Once he steadied himself, he looked up and could not help blurting, "Fuck."

No. 9!

No. 9, whose neck had already been longer than a normal person's, had hidden his body in a corner. His neck crawled across the ceiling like a snake, his head hanging down as his eyes stared straight at Qi Chanyang.

Knowing full well this was an NPC, Qi Chanyang still could not help asking first, "Where's Xie Fangcheng??"

For an instant, No. 9's crazed expression froze. His head swayed back and forth.

"Meds... take meds. If you don't take meds, you'll die. Why won't you take meds? Take meds, take meds..."

Seeing him like this, Qi Chanyang inexplicably felt a little relieved.

Xie Fangcheng might be unreliable, but he was quite familiar with No. 9. He had played ball with him and fed him soup. Maybe No. 9 had not killed him even after he transformed.

But No. 9 was only dazed for a moment. Then his eyes rolled, his neck clambered along the ceiling, and his head turned toward Qi Chanyang.

"Meat. Eat meat... hungry..."

Then, like a snake, he launched himself over in an instant.

Qi Chanyang exchanged a few blows with him. No. 9 was not strong, not even half as strong as No. 1. Qi Chanyang could handle him.

But if he fought this NPC in a place like this and drew other NPCs over, that would be trouble. Qi Chanyang blocked the teeth snapping toward him, fell backward, and kicked off just before hitting the ground. With a whoosh, he shot to the doorway, opened it, and rushed out.

--Skill: "Kicking Rabbit." The closer he was to the ground, the faster he moved. That was also why Qi Chanyang dared to come out alone to look for clues despite knowing he could not defeat the NPCs.

Once out the door, Qi Chanyang moved as if he were crawling along the ground, so fast that he nearly left only an afterimage.

He darted through the lobby and headed first for the cafeteria.

After opening the cafeteria door, Qi Chanyang froze again.

The cafeteria looked as though it had been ransacked. The round table that had stood in the middle was now missing all six legs, leaving only a round tabletop tossed in a corner.

The stools were still there, but Qi Chanyang counted at a glance and found that one was missing.

He went into the kitchen.

...The prep counter's legs were gone too.

What was going on? What kind of monster specifically ate table legs??

The knives were still in the knife rack.

Qi Chanyang took them all. He did not need them, but the other new players had no weapons. At least a knife would give them some ability to fight back instead of just waiting to die.

There was nothing else in the kitchen.

With that thought, Qi Chanyang had just stood up when his heart abruptly lurched.

He swiftly dodged into a corner and pressed himself against the wall.

Something was coming from the doorway.

Was it No. 9?

No, that was not right.

No. 9 was not very strong. Back at the badminton court, Qi Chanyang had not even sensed his presence.

Who was coming?

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hello, your trash can is dirty. Would you like it cleaned?"

Ge Juan!

Qi Chanyang turned to look at the trash can. It had clearly been empty just now, so why was there an eyeball in it now?

Qi Chanyang quickly took the eyeball out of the trash can.

The NPC at the door fell silent, and in the end could only leave helplessly.

Qi Chanyang let out a breath and opened his hand, looking at the eyeball in his palm.

Had he simply failed to notice it earlier?

Never mind.

It had been almost fifteen minutes. He needed to go up to the second floor and take a look first...

Qi Chanyang suddenly rolled across the floor. A crimson tongue shot at the spot where he had been standing, then reluctantly retracted.

Qi Chanyang slowly raised his head.

On the ceiling, countless pairs of eyes stared down at him, packed so densely together that he could not tell how many there were.

"The Clay Figure's Self-Cultivation" had not activated, because every NPC watching him truly posed no threat to him.

But now, bat-shaped NPCs carpeted the entire ceiling of the kitchen at a glance, nearly hundreds or thousands of them.

The bats clung quietly to the wall. They seemed to have just eaten something, and crimson blood dripped down onto the floor.

Then that death-knell knocking sounded again.

"Hello, your floor is dirty. Would you like it cleaned?"

Qi Chanyang stood there for only two seconds before immediately dropping flat to the floor and kicking off.

Run!