Chapter 7: Everyone Harboring Ghosts

“Eight’s deduction makes sense.”

“Is the game rule still with you?” Ten turned sideways to look at Two and asked.

“It’s in the drawer.”

Two walked to the cabinet by the door and took out the wool-felt slip of paper. He couldn’t quite figure out why she was suddenly asking about this.

He opened it and handed it to Ten.

Lu Nan stared straight at her, trying to spot any flaws. No matter how she looked, it was a completely unfamiliar face—the eyes, bones, lips… none of them belonged to the original her.

The face might be different, but the voice wouldn’t lie. It couldn’t.

It absolutely couldn’t. Heaven knew how happy she was, and how terrified she was of mistaking her.

Feeling Lu Nan’s gaze, Ten looked up with a puzzled expression and met her eyes.

“If I remember correctly, the rules say the script starts tomorrow, and surviving five days means victory.”

As she spoke, she untied the thin string and opened the wool-felt paper. Her voice was warm and pleasant, like jade under the blazing sun—warm and translucent.

This voice—no mistaking it.

A faint, imperceptible smile crept into Lu Nan’s eyes. Her expression remained gentle.

Nearby, Six seemed to notice something. She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched the two of them, and suddenly the corners of her mouth curved up.

“Nine and the others left at 11:59, but now it’s only…” Ten pointed at the ancient clock in the hall, “12:10.”

Everyone instantly understood her implication. Nine and the others’ time was too short. Subtracting the time they spent answering questions, it was only a few minutes apart.

What could happen in a few minutes?

There was another issue: the rules stated it started tomorrow. Strictly speaking, midnight marked the start of the next day, which applied to those two. But Five’s time of death was off.

“What if Five came downstairs at 12:01 and triggered the plot? That would make sense too,” Two raised his doubt.

It did make sense. Seven couldn’t recall the exact time precisely, but rules like this killed by the minute.

“When I came downstairs, it was 58 minutes past. By then, Seven had already discovered Five’s body, and Three just said they left just after twelve,” Lu Nan spoke up.

Everyone drew in a sharp breath.

Their two statements perfectly corroborated Eight’s somewhat unbelievable idea.

A cold gust of wind blew through, and Two rubbed the goosebumps rising on his arms.

At the same time, this statement carried another crucial piece of information.

What did this mean? It meant Five had died before midnight. He wasn’t killed by triggering the plot—he was murdered by someone unknown.

The key was the timing. If he had died by touching the plot at the start of the second day at midnight, his body would carry a risk everyone needed to avoid.

But if he was murdered, it wouldn’t take long for everyone to turn on each other. And most importantly, would the killer stop at just one?

Three and Nine perfectly ruled out the first possibility for everyone. They had entered the plot and escaped only after dodging the monsters’ attacks.

The two spacetimes were separated. Time in one person’s spacetime was relatively still for the others.

So the door they hadn’t closed appeared closed to everyone else. The sounds they hadn’t heard…

Just as Eight had said, in the end, those two simply no longer existed in this spacetime.

“So Five died last night…” Nine’s expression turned dazed as he pieced it together.

“Five was killed by one of us, not because he triggered the plot…”

Seven murmured to herself. She scanned everyone, as if they all wore masks, their true faces hidden. No one knew anyone’s real identity.

Anyone could be the killer.

This was a puzzle. Only by solving it could they uncover how many enemies lurked in the shadows.

Just the enemies from the script’s start, or… were they all enemies?

“We can only wait and see how the plot triggers tomorrow,” Eight muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the window.

Lu Nan followed his gaze. Under the warm yellow light lay a vast expanse of white snow, stretching endlessly.

Exhaustion tormented everyone with yawns, unease etched on every face—except for those adept at hiding their emotions, like Lu Nan herself.

She was one of the suspects too. In fact, everyone was.

Everyone carried suspicions.

Seven was the first to find the body. Who could guarantee it wasn’t her own performance?

Lu Nan had come down first, faster than anyone. Why? Was she eager to admire her handiwork?

Two as well—he had a grudge with Five. Whether that grudge was enough to make him kill remained undecided, and Two himself would decide that verdict.

Three and Nine were the prime suspects at first, yet their suspicions were cleared earliest. They were the only ones to face the monsters head-on; of course, they also proved that running worked when you couldn’t win.

Six and Seven were close, openly sharing chocolates, but who knew what lay beneath? Maybe they teamed up to take out Five. As the saying went, the most beautiful was often the most dangerous.

Eight was clever, but was his cleverness genuine? Or did he already know everything, enabling his guesses?

Four acted superior, disdainful of mingling, speaking only when important. Why? Too many words led to mistakes, or was she guiding everyone?

Ten was the same—she came down latest. Why so late? Hiding the murder weapon, or washing blood off herself?

Everyone harbored their own ghosts as they bid each other goodnight, undercurrents surging. But it was already a sleepless night.

—

Dawn broke, and the warm sun shone on the earth.

In the morning, Lu Nan ran into Ten on the way downstairs. She had risen early, wrapped in the white cotton coat provided in every room.

The other nodded in greeting, Song Wenwei’s voice still laced with sleepiness. “Good morning…”

“Good morning.”

Lu Nan replied. The two passed each other, one after the other on the stairs, the only sound the crackling of the furnace.

Five’s body from yesterday had vanished without a trace. The sofa looked as if someone had cleaned it—the bloodstains were gone.

In the hall, Ten sat on the other sofa, right in front of where Five had died the day before. She showed no fear, pulling out the rules slip from the drawer to study it again.

Lu Nan went to make breakfast. She was hungry.

Though this was a virtual variety show, the pain, hunger, and other sensations were real.

If she didn’t think too hard, it felt like she wasn’t recording at all—just normal life.

The fridge had eggs, vegetables, frozen foods, and more. Lu Nan cracked several eggs into a pan and boiled dumplings in another.

When the food was ready, she carried it to the table. Only four people were up, so she didn’t make too much. Steam rose from the bowls—winter called for soup noodles to warm the body.

“Wow, sister, it smells so good.”

Six came down from upstairs, heading straight for the kitchen.

She pulled out a chair, glanced around for something to help with, then leaned close to Lu Nan.

Before Six’s fingers could touch the apron strings, Lu Nan grabbed her hand.

Facing Lu Nan’s puzzled gaze, she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, sister, I just wanted to help…”

Lu Nan released her hand and responded flatly, “It’s fine.”

Six stood behind her, her smile fading. She slowly raised her eyes, her gaze wandering over Lu Nan’s back before settling on her hands untying the apron.

Six nodded to herself, then glanced around, her eyes landing on Ten, who sat primly studying the envelope.

Lu Nan untied the apron and sat down. She called the two others in the hall to come eat breakfast.

After they finished, the remaining five finally arrived. They had eaten outside, and Two and Ten washed their four bowls.

“Didn’t you think those two had a weird vibe?” Two asked Ten as he squeezed out soap suds.

He always felt something off, but couldn’t pinpoint it. How strange.

Ten looked up blankly. “Did they?”

“Oh, was I imagining it…”

—

After everyone had eaten their fill, they gathered in the hall. A side cabinet slowly descended, followed by a projection screen popping out.

The video showed Five’s murder from yesterday.

The shaky footage captured the man’s desperate cries—Five’s voice was faint, almost inaudible.

With a “slash,” the knife pierced his chest clearly, blood gushing out.

The man went still, his head lolling to the side like a marionette with cut strings.

Blood splattered the lens, a blurry red. It darkened briefly—likely the cameraperson wiping it with a handkerchief. After, the view cleared, showing a gloved hand shaking as it fixed the camera in place.

Once positioned, the black-gloved hand gripped a curved knife and slashed hard. The blade caught on bone with a grinding “crack crack crack.” Someone in the video chuckled lightly—gender indistinguishable.

The next moment, the head flew to the ground with a thud thud thud…

The footage ended there.

Three covered Nine’s eyes.

Unlike them, Seven stared intently at the projection. Suddenly, her pupils shrank, she screamed, and collapsed to the floor.

Everyone rushed to help her up. Seven’s face was ashen; she shook her head at every question, refusing to respond.

In the frozen air, only the cold AI voice droned on—“Please have the nine players vote at 12:30 tonight. Heteromorphs are mixed among you. Vote out the heteromorphs to win. If the remaining players are all heteromorphs or half heteromorphs at the end, the heteromorphs win… beep…”

No one heard the rest.

Two slapped the cabinet, his hand stinging from the force, but it showed no reaction.

“Does anyone have a suspect?” Three asked.

Two shook his head. “No, there are no clues at all.”

In truth, it was the opposite—everyone had points of suspicion, making it impossible to pin on one.

It was like everyone was a 1, with no number higher. Blind voting like this had no answer.

Ten, who had been studying the rules, suddenly stood up. Her movement was abrupt in the empty hall, drawing everyone’s eyes with its sharp sound.

“There’s something on yesterday’s letter…”

Ten held the wool-felt paper in one hand and the letter in the other. Everyone crowded around. Lu Nan and Six supported the unsteady Seven as they joined.

The letter read: 【Do Not Contend, Do Not Snatch, Do Not Be Impatient】.

It seemed irritatingly useless, just another pointless note.

On the other side were two small drawings. One was dim overall, a night scene with a bright moon; shadowy winged figures rode a carriage across the sky. The other showed the sunlit earth.

The images offered no obvious clues.

Amid the pondering gazes, Eight suddenly looked up sharply. His movement was subtle, his face betraying no emotion, but his eyes met the woman’s in midair.

In an instant, they both understood everything.

That was the benefit of teaming with a smart person.

After a brief glance, they resumed studying the letter. No one noticed the shift.

Lu Nan stared unabashedly at the two drawings. Moments later, her heart sank deeper and deeper.

Two of them?

That made things tricky.