"My back..." Old Man Song found he couldn't sit up, his waist aching terribly.
"He's framing me!" Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the player couldn't find a good opportunity to act. He still remembered the last player who got eliminated for angering the nurses, and he was terrified of meeting the same fate. So he desperately tried to explain to those around him.
"He deliberately backed up and ran over my foot with the wheelchair," the player argued. "Besides, wheelchairs have two wheels—how could it tip over so easily?"
This was clearly a scam!
"Thought he was all fierce and intimidating, but turns out he got scammed the moment he stepped out," You Jiu remarked, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. The department head happened to pass by and shot him a glance.
You Jiu expected this "pie-in-the-sky talker" to start manipulating him again, but to his surprise, the man said nothing, turning his face away and walking off.
No scolding today? Was the sky falling?
"This old man’s got good taste—out of all the floors, he had to pick the wealthiest, the 9th floor," You Jiu mused, raising an eyebrow. "Too bad he messed with a janitor instead of some rich guy."
Xiaojuan stared at the old man still lying on the ground. "There's good news and bad news."
Both Qi Shi and You Jiu turned to her. They knew when Xiaojuan started like this, there was always a reason.
"The bad news is, this old man is Chao Musheng’s grandfather."
She still remembered how, aboard the Moonlight Cruise, this old man had made a grand entrance, surrounded by bodyguards, cane in hand. Back then, he was full of vigor—a far cry from the frail, pitiful figure before them now.
You Jiu clicked his tongue. That was indeed terrible news.
Mr. Chao’s status on this floor was undeniable. Hurting his grandfather? This player was doomed.
"The good news is, Chao Musheng hates his guts and doesn’t even want to see him," Xiaojuan said, disgusted by the Song family. "This old man’s no good."
Indulging his grandson’s bullying, covering up his misdeeds—to the grandfather and grandson, ordinary people probably didn’t even count as human.
Of course, what she hated most about them was how, years ago, Song Cheng had pushed Aunt Chao when she was pregnant. If a kid could do something like that, what wouldn’t he do as an adult?
The little brat was vicious, the old fool blind to reason. If the old man wouldn’t teach the brat how to behave, the law would.
Only when the mess became too big to hide did he think of begging Chao Musheng for help? She wouldn’t be surprised if the old man had come here after hearing Uncle Song was at the hospital.
In a way, the player outside had accidentally done a good deed.
Xiaojuan recognized Old Man Song, and so did some of the patients and their families on the 9th floor. Just last week, they’d heard the Song Corporation had changed hands. No one expected the old man to deteriorate so quickly in just a few days.
Song Cheng’s scandals had caused a huge uproar online, leading to investigations and legal action against the Song Corporation. The whole company was on the verge of collapse, with no one daring to take on its mess.
In the end, no one expected Kunlun to be the one to swoop in and buy it at a bargain.
With Kunlun’s size and status, what did they want with the Song Corporation’s scraps?
But considering the Song family’s other grandson—the one never publicly acknowledged—was Kunlun’s executive assistant, and now Old Man Song was here begging Assistant Chao for help… Well, the implications were obvious.
Some even suspected Kunlun had a hand in the investigations.
Father Chao was usually a gentle man, but when he saw his own father showing up at the hospital—while Musheng was still sick—to pressure him into pleading for that good-for-nothing Song Cheng, his expression darkened instantly.
He wasn’t stupid. His father hadn’t come earlier or later, but right when he was visiting Musheng. Clearly, he was trying to use him to corner Musheng.
His son had a bright future and a spotless reputation. Why should he dirty his hands for some little monster?
Seeing his father collapse on the floor, Father Chao’s heart sank.
Faking a fall in the hospital—was this to force Musheng out or to smear his name?
"Dad." Chao Musheng noticed his father’s distress. "Don’t be upset. I can handle this."
"This isn’t your burden to bear. Family matters like this are for me to deal with." Father Chao pushed open the door and strode toward Old Man Song.
Medical staff arrived to lift the old man onto a gurney, but he refused to leave, gripping a nurse’s arm and shouting stubbornly, "I won’t go until I see my son and grandson!"
Without his secretaries, assistants, or bodyguards, stripped of his wealthy aura, Old Man Song was just a stubborn, biased old man.
Father Chao stopped in front of him. "Dad, you always taught us never to disgrace the Song name in public. What are you doing now?"
Hearing his son’s words, Old Man Song flushed with shame. "Second Son, Song Cheng is your nephew. He lost his parents young—you can’t abandon him."
"He’s an adult now. The only one who can discipline him is the law." Father Chao’s tone was icy. "Dad, you’re clearly not well. I’ve arranged for a full medical checkup to ensure your health."
"What do you mean? I’m not sick!"
"Dad, don’t refuse treatment out of pride." Father Chao signed the examination form. "At your age, any discomfort should be checked immediately. Don’t worry about the cost—and stop harassing the hospital staff. They have it hard enough."
What a good man!
The player was moved to tears. Thank goodness this old man’s son was reasonable…
"Chao Musheng!" Old Man Song bellowed toward Room 4. "I demand—"
"Dad." Father Chao clamped a hand over his father’s mouth. "You’re sick. Don’t strain your voice."
"Mr. Song," the doctor said, checking the form. "What tests does your father need?"
"From head to toe. At his age, I won’t rest easy without a full examination." Father Chao kept his hand firmly in place. "Spare no expense."
Since he was here and so full of energy, he might as well go through every test the hospital offered.
If they found something wrong, he could recuperate in a nursing home.
As for that worthless nephew? Prison would teach him a trade. At least he’d have a skill when he got out.
Father Chao held Old Man Song’s mouth shut until the gurney was wheeled into the elevator. Only then did he let go.
"Second Son, how dare you treat me like this?!"
"Like an unfilial son," Father Chao replied calmly, wiping his hands. "You already called me that when I left the Song family with Yinyin. Why ask now?"
"You’re trying to kill me!" Old Man Song was livid. "That woman Yinyin really has you wrapped around her finger."
"Yinyin is wonderful—it's me who's love-struck." No matter how Old Man Song scolded, Father Chao remained unperturbed: "You sound quite vigorous—seems you won't drop dead from anger so easily."
"Yinyin is my heart, and Musheng is my treasure." At the mention of his wife and son, Father Chao's face softened into a smile, but his expression quickly turned icy as he glared at Old Man Song. "You look down on Yinyin, scheme against Musheng, and even want my Musheng to cover for that little bastard? What kind of worthless trash is he, to make Musheng compromise his principles?"
Old Man Song gasped for breath, his face red with fury.
"Trash doesn’t deserve to drag down a pearl. Don’t ever harass Musheng again." Father Chao's tone was frigid. "As his uncle, I have a petty temper and a tendency to take things out on others."
Old Man Song suddenly fell silent. He knew this son of his meant every word.
Years ago, he had declared that Chao Musheng would never step foot in the Song household—and true to his word, Musheng had never crossed its threshold since.
He had sworn that if the Song family wouldn’t accept Yinyin, he would marry into the Chao family instead. And so, every holiday, he returned with his wife and son to the Chao home.
A man who appeared gentle and refined could be more ruthless than anyone when provoked.
Old Man Song was afraid.
He was old now, and most of his assets had been mortgaged to fill the company’s tax debts. He feared dying alone and destitute.
"Mr. Song is truly filial," one of the bodyguards remarked. "All these tests must cost a fortune."
It was expensive—and exhausting.
"What’s a little money when it’s for my father’s health?" Father Chao resumed his usual mild demeanor. "As long as he understands my good intentions, that’s all that matters."
Whether Old Man Song understood was unclear, but as he was wheeled from one examination room to another, poked and prodded by doctors who praised his son’s devotion, he didn’t dare protest.
He feared that if he resisted, his second son would insist the results from one hospital weren’t reliable—and drag him to a dozen more.
That unfilial brat was absolutely capable of it.
Father Chao acted so swiftly that the spectators on the 9th floor barely had time to catch the drama before it ended.
"Mr. Chao," a doctor entered, holding a stack of reports. "Your blood test won’t be ready until tomorrow. Hospital policy requires all results before discharge, so perhaps you could leave tomorrow instead?"
"Understood, thank you, Doctor." Chao Musheng nodded politely. "May I go home for the night, then?"
The doctor smiled. "Regulations don’t permit it."
But if he insisted, they couldn’t force him to stay.
"I see. Thank you."
After the doctor left, Musheng noticed Su Chenzhu unpacking the belongings he’d just stored away. "Mr. Su?"
"We’ll stay one more night. Wait for the blood test results tomorrow before leaving." Su Chenzhu handed him a glass of water. "Drink more."
"Mr. Su, technically, tonight we could—"
"I know what the doctor meant." Su Chenzhu’s gaze was unwavering. "But I don’t want to risk anything happening to you."
Musheng clutched the cup, lips parting soundlessly.
"One more day." Su Chenzhu reached out, lightly brushing Musheng’s hair. "After discharge, I’ll give you two days off. Then you’ll attend the Time Charity Fashion Event with the bodyguards and assistants I assigned you."
Though it was just his hair being touched, Musheng felt a strange tingling warmth.
"Alright." He took a sip of water.
Hiss—it was too hot. His ears burned as if scalded.
[Ding! Two hours remaining until the instance ends. Players, choose: life or death?]
[A heroic death may well be the finale of a painful requiem.]
[To abandon suffering in death is to open the gates of time. Players, strive to clear the instance and claim your grand rewards.]
The four players sat in the janitor’s break room, the silence so thick their breathing was audible.
The player in the corner, whose repeated assassination attempts had failed, sat in a disturbed quiet.
[Ding! Sixty minutes remaining. Players, choose: life or death?]
[Ding! System hint: The number 4 holds mystical significance.]
Four—death?
The player’s eyes widened. So that’s why the hospital staff revered Chao Musheng. He was the final boss of this instance. Only by killing him could they open the exit.
His death meant their survival.
"What are you planning?" Xiaojuan stood, blocking the door, a talisman burning in her hand.
"Don’t you want to clear the instance?" The player couldn’t understand. The system had spelled it out—why weren’t they moving?
"No one touches the patient in Room 4." Xiaojuan’s glare was glacial. "Step through this door, and I’ll send you straight to hell."
"Jiejie, I haven’t moved an inch." You Jiu grinned. "I’m with you. Your word is law."
Whether sticking with Wang Xiaojuan guaranteed survival was uncertain, but he knew one thing: touching Chao Musheng meant certain death.
Qi Shi said nothing, but he didn’t rise from his chair either. He peeled off his gloves, leaning against the wall with closed eyes.
"Madmen!" The player snarled. "Have you all lost your minds?!"
The answer was right in front of them, yet they did nothing. What kind of top-tier players were they?
Time ticked away. The player gnawed his lip raw, blood dripping down his chin.
He wanted to clear the instance. He wanted to go home. His wife and child were waiting!
Anyone who stood in his way deserved to die!
With bloodshot eyes, he glared at Xiaojuan, drew his weapon—and vanished.
"Teleportation item!" Xiaojuan’s heart lurched. She spun around and bolted after him.
The moment the player neared Room 4, an invisible force hurled him back. Strangely, despite the loud crash, no nurses came to investigate.
Every bone in his body felt shattered. Still, he crawled forward, desperate to reach the door.
He’d shed too much blood and sweat to give up now.
When the System dragged him into this nightmare, his daughter was only three. She’d made him promise to pick her up from school first.
He couldn’t break that promise.
"The night should be quiet. Patients need rest."
The door to Room 4 opened. A pair of immaculate leather shoes stepped into view.
Gasping, the player looked up into the cold eyes of a man whose golden irises gleamed with disdain—as if he were nothing but an insignificant insect.
Terror seized him. He should flee. Beg for mercy.
But he wanted to go home. More than anything.
The man’s foot lifted.
"President Su." Xiaojuan stood under the sterile hallway lights, trembling. "This janitor doesn’t know better. I’ll take him away."
Su Chenzhu stared at her coldly, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
Xiaojuan could barely keep herself steady. In Su Chenzhu’s gaze, she saw nothing resembling human warmth.
An overwhelming wave of pain assaulted her mind. She braced herself against the wall, her back drenched in cold sweat, the scent of death thick in the air.
"Mr. Su."
Chao Musheng rubbed his eyes as he walked up to Su Chenzhu, spotting a janitor collapsed at the doorway. His mind cleared slightly. "What happened?"
The boundless terror and killing intent dissipated in an instant. The player looked up again—the golden glow in the man’s eyes had vanished, replaced by a pair of silver-framed glasses perched on his nose.
"He might have tripped," Su Chenzhu tilted his head slightly. "Did I wake you?"
"No, I thought I heard a little girl crying earlier," Chao Musheng shook his head, noticing Xiaojuan standing not far away. He bent down to help the man on the floor up. "Xiaojuan, call a male colleague to assist him. It looks like he hurt his knee."
The moment those words were spoken, the player realized the excruciating pain that had wracked his entire body was gone—only a dull ache remained in his left knee.
What… was this?
Terrified, the player looked up at the young man before him, his face pale.
Just what kind of existence was the system trying to make him eliminate?
"Brother Chao," Xiaojuan wiped the cold sweat from her palms and approached Chao Musheng, not daring to glance at Su Chenzhu beside him. "Sorry for disturbing your rest."
"I was dreaming—what does that have to do with the janitor?" Chao Musheng chuckled hoarsely. "In my dream, I heard a little girl crying for her father. When I woke up, I found someone collapsed at the door."
The male player’s lips trembled. Only when Qi Shi and You Jiu arrived to support him by the arms did he rasp out, "Thank you, Mr. Chao."
The four returned to the break room. You Jiu noticed Xiaojuan’s ghostly pallor and shaken demeanor. "What exactly happened just now?"
"Nothing," Xiaojuan didn’t elaborate, gulping down several mouthfuls of water from the table. "There are only 30 minutes left before the dungeon ends. I do have a way to get you out."
The player, who had already resigned himself to despair, stared at her with burning intensity. "I’ll give you any item you want—just let me leave this dungeon alive."
"I don’t want your items. But I need your promise—swear you’ll never reveal my secret," Xiaojuan pulled out a photo from her inventory. "Swear on this."
Qi Shi and You Jiu looked at the photo. "…"
Wasn’t this Chao Musheng and Su Chenzhu from Ward No. 4?
What did swearing on a photo mean?
"Fine," You Jiu was the first to pledge. "I will never disclose any of Wang Xiaojuan’s secrets. If I break this oath…"
He stared at the two figures in the photo. "If I break it, let me die on the spot."
For someone who valued his life above all, this was a ruthless vow.
Qi Shi hesitated. "Just a photo? I have an oath item. I’m willing to trade it to you."
"Oath items belong to the System," Xiaojuan propped the photo up. "I trust my Brother Chao more."
"Alright," Qi Shi didn’t understand but chose to respect her decision.
The player was the last to swear. His gaze at the photo was more solemn than anyone else’s, laced with lingering, unconcealed fear.
"I will never reveal any of Wang Xiaojuan’s secrets. If I break this oath… may I never see my wife and daughter again in this lifetime."
[Ding! The System has detected unknown energy in this dungeon. The dungeon’s magnetic field is unstable. The dungeon is collapsing.]
[Dungeon shutdown countdown: 10, 9…]
Back in the player lobby, Old He swayed on his feet before collapsing to the ground.
Wang Xiaojuan watched him for a long moment before sighing. "Let’s go."
She remembered a long time ago, when she and Old He had entered a residential district dungeon. Every day, Old He would spend time kicking a shuttlecock with a three-year-old NPC girl downstairs.
The little NPC was an insignificant background character—no other players paid her any attention except Old He. On the final night of the dungeon, the script dictated that a fire would break out, consuming everyone in the building.
Old He had rushed into the flames, saving the little girl, only to watch her dissolve into nothingness when the dungeon ended.
Xiaojuan had asked him then—why bother, when he knew she was just an NPC? Even if he saved her, she’d still perish in the next run of the dungeon. What was the point?
"I have a three-year-old daughter. She loves kicking shuttlecocks too."
Perhaps it was the sorrow in Old He’s eyes that day, but she still remembered his words clearly.
If he died, he’d never see his daughter again.
Old He sat on the ground for a long time before slowly getting up. He returned to the player quarters, lying on his narrow bed, and opened the player forum.
[The hospital exploration dungeon just wiped out all participants, and now a new one’s appeared. Will any high-level players sign up this time?]
[The rewards jumped from 50x to 100x. Tempting.]
[With a 100% failure rate, you still dare?]
[Respectfully asking—what should we watch out for in exploration dungeons?]
[Watch out for not dying.]
[I heard a rumor recently.]
[Begging the expert above to elaborate.]
[If you encounter a strange man in newly opened exploration dungeons—one with no notable identifiers—stay far away. If you can’t avoid him, then never, ever offend him.]
[More nonsense. Exploration dungeons are different every time. How could the same NPC appear across dungeons?]
[AAAAH! Stop talking about exploration dungeons—it’s irrelevant to us regular players anyway. Did you see the player lobby? The System just shut down 80 mid-to-high-level dungeons!]
Chao Musheng felt he had a peculiar connection with that hideous virus orb—somehow, he’d run into it in his dreams again.
Perhaps he’d beaten it too harshly last time, because the orb looked dull and lifeless now. The moment it spotted him, its tentacles flailed as it tried to flee.
"Don’t even think about running!" Chao Musheng grabbed one of its tentacles. "What were you doing outside my window?"
The virus orb swelled in fury, bloating into a grotesque purple-gray sphere. Its tentacles morphed into slimy appendages covered in eyes of all sizes—each eye lined with jagged teeth, gnawing at his window frame.
A visual and mental assault!
Chao Musheng snatched the baseball bat under the window, leaped onto the monstrosity, and swung with all his might.
Each strike sent tiny toys scattering. After eighty rounds of battle, he woke up feeling oddly invigorated.
Refreshed, he sat up in his hospital bed, his body buzzing with energy. No aches, no pains—even his hair seemed perkier than usual. The only downside? He was starving.
"Chao Chao." Su Chenzhu emerged from the kitchen, a tray of steaming breakfast in his hands. "You’re awake?"
Chao Musheng sniffed the air and said, "Good morning, Mr. Su. The porridge you made smells amazing."
"Let's eat," Su Chenzhu replied, placing breakfast in front of him. "There's more in the pot. I'll serve you another bowl when you finish."
"Thank you, Mr. Su."
Su Chenzhu smiled slightly. "No need for thanks."
"Xiaojuan was on duty last night. I ordered breakfast for her—do you know if she’s off work yet?"
Su Chenzhu answered, "She quit."
"Huh?"
The next time they met, would Xiaojuan have already switched jobs again?
