Players, Please Board the Train

Taking advantage of the brief moment when the monster and the group were slightly farther apart, Xiao Ling, Sun Bo, and the others who hadn’t had time to escape quickly exited the eighth floor through different passages. By the time the monster freed itself from the flying shield and came to the window, all the players who left had already hidden on other floors.

The monster’s roars echoed through the hotel, accompanied now and then by the sound of rooms being torn apart. Apparently this hungry beast no longer wandered only down the corridors like the previous one; it barreled into every room, whether the door was open or closed, as if it had to check them all.

Xu Huo was on the fifth floor. He used an item to examine the hotel exterior. During the day there was still no way out, but the street view outside had been swapped left to right. Beheaded Cemetery had been moved to the other side, and the skeletons that had crawled out the previous night were gone, leaving many pits in the ground.

He went up to the top floor and took a careful look at the rest of Museum City. Most places showed no dramatic changes, only more signs of damage compared to yesterday. Despite the city’s huge size, he couldn’t see any sign of other players.

From within the Mirror Hotel, Museum City seemed to have lost its warmth, like a place where life had been severed.

But being trapped inside the hotel meant the scenery he saw might not be reliable. Museum City’s dungeon timing was off, and its space could be warped or altered.

“Sphinx’s Mystery…” Xu Huo took a folding chair from his luggage compartment, set it up, sat down, opened a bottle of water, and ate a little.

On the surface, Sphinx’s Mystery is a riddle about humans: childhood, adulthood, and old age correspond to morning, noon, and night, so it’s actually related to time.

If the riddle appeared elsewhere it might mean something different, but in Museum City it seemed to point to something else—there is only one day here, and morning, noon, and night all cycle within that same day.

Dungeon names often hint at hidden content. From the four progress points he had already completed, the dungeon’s task of solving disappearances didn’t seem closely tied to a time riddle.Maybe it was just a coincidence that the two overlapped?

But coincidence could turn into a real connection. Without solving the Mirror Hotel’s lock, he couldn’t even leave this place.

A hand reached up from the balcony edge. Peng Fengnian, who had climbed up as quietly as he could, saw Xu Huo basking in the sun and eating rations, and visibly relaxed. He made a shushing gesture, and only after his feet touched down did he open an item and type quickly, saying, “My item’s mute function doesn’t last long. Now that you’re sitting here, do you have any leads?”

“I sat down precisely because I don’t,” Xu Huo replied, “I needed to rest. I haven’t had a proper break in two or three days, and my head’s a little slow.” He handed him a can of liquor.

“This is better than food,” Peng Fengnian said. He opened it and gulped several mouthfuls, exhaling with relief before adding, “To get into the dungeon, my luggage compartment was packed with necessities. I didn’t bring liquor.”

“With so many teammates, surely one or two brought some,” Xu Huo said. “Divide and cooperate. You don’t need that many supplies for yourselves.”

Under normal circumstances, the water and food required for a dungeon—plus medical supplies and others—would be fully covered by a luggage compartment. It wouldn’t come to the point of scarcity.

“Was the player who entered before Xiao Ling and me one of your people?” Peng Fengnian asked with a smile. “I knew you wouldn’t be fooled. I didn’t expect you to ask only now.”

“If we’re cooperating, honesty benefits everyone,” Xu Huo said calmly. “But your methods in Zone 009 are too extreme. Are you planning to kill every player who enters the dungeon?”

Peng Fengnian fell silent for a moment. He had apparently learned the sequence of events from the lead player who had been hunting the group that chased Xu Huo.

“That decision wasn’t mine to make. It came from above,” he said. “But for now we’re friends, not enemies. If you want revenge against him it’s best to wait until you’re out.”

Xu Huo smiled, “Nice thought. Who knows how many Zone 009 players showed up outside.”

“I wouldn’t stoop to betraying allies,” Peng Fengnian said. “I can talk to Teacher Pan. After we leave you and Old Zheng can fight one-on-one—death or survival is on your own…” He paused, “That’s the best I can offer. You know my level isn’t high.”

Xu Huo studied him. “If what you’re looking for is that important, why not have higher-level players go in?”

“They all have missions and can’t be freed up for the moment,” Peng Fengnian answered evasively, though his slightly mocking expression suggested it wasn’t only a manpower shortage.

That made sense. Zone 009 was fully integrated into the game world. Not only did out-of-district players want a piece of the prize, local players wanted to strike while the iron was hot. Factional and power struggles complicated matters even more.

“Did any of you enter with a train ticket?” Xu Huo asked again.

“None of us in this batch had tickets.” Peng Fengnian gestured toward his item as if signaling his mute time had ended.

Xu Huo looked toward Museum City’s main gate. Without tickets, they were all trapped in the Corpse Hotel; most likely they were using testing devices or items to search for things.

Peng Fengnian typed on his electronic device and displayed a message: “We were among the first to enter. It was from Old Zheng that we learned Museum City’s dungeon time limit is seven days. We have one or two days left, but we don’t know if the Mirror Hotel’s space follows the dungeon rules.”

“Also, this dungeon opens every day. It’s so strange. Do you have any theories?”

If the dungeon ended after seven days and they could leave, that would be fine; if not…

With the first seven days still incomplete, Xu Huo’s speculation about a one-day loop couldn’t be verified. But Peng Fengnian and the others entered the Mirror Hotel from the Corpse Hotel without tickets, so the dungeon was likely already running at that time. In other words, the dungeon might remain permanently open—leaving would be impossible.

For players without train tickets, the situation was even worse.

Players can leave a standard dungeon in only two ways: complete the task and exit the dungeon, or the dungeon closes and kicks everyone out. Museum City, due to its time rules, bore characteristics of a Random Dungeon—time was infinite. Worse still, only players who clear the dungeon within its active time and who hold train tickets might be able to leave.

“Think positively,” Xu Huo lowered his voice, “maybe the dungeon doesn’t restrict non-ticket players.”

That gate did look very easy to enter.

Peng Fengnian’s face was full of worry; he didn’t absorb Xu Huo’s half-hearted comfort. He opened his device and handed it over.

The screen showed photos of Museum City, all taken inside the Mirror Hotel. As he flipped forward two images, Xu Huo suddenly sat up straight. He checked the photo timestamps and the lighting carefully, then asked Peng Fengnian, “Are you sure this was taken the afternoon before last?”