TBR CH223

“Hello, Controller 001. I am AI Medusa. Damaged file read. Currently, my performance cannot fully restore this file. Do you permit me to abridge and modify it according to your core instructions?”

“Received.”

“‘Face-slapping function’ is being prepared. Progress as follows: Dungeon monsters have been guided toward Ruan Xuelan, the Child of Fortune.”

Ruan Xuelan was still unaware of the danger he was in.

The handsome young Taoist priest huddled in the corner, not looking up. A segment of his fair neck was exposed, like a lamb awaiting slaughter. Those around him had gradually grown agitated; no one had the energy to comfort him. People walked back and forth in the cramped ritual area, their footsteps thudding in his ears.

Ruan Xuelan’s eyes suddenly widened.

A line of footprints appeared out of thin air, but in the dim space, no one noticed them. It wasn’t until the bloody footprints had reached the young man’s eyes that he suddenly let out a gasp, falling to the ground and scrambling backward.

“Why are you still standing there in a daze!”

At some point, the Yin family butler, with white hair and beard, stood at the entrance of the ritual ground, reprimanding sharply. He threw a stack of yellow talismans into the air, and they fluttered directly towards the bloody footprints. “How could a vengeful spirit come here… Regardless, Taoist priests, why are you not performing the ritual quickly? Do you want to wait until it harms someone?”

Some talismans burned in mid-air, while others fell into the players’ hands.

Ruan Xuelan instinctively reached out and grabbed one; a talisman landed between his fingertips.

“Form the array!” The leading player, as if waking from a dream, gritted his teeth and shouted, “Everyone read the rules when we entered the dungeon. We are Taoists now, so this must be our way to resolve the situation. Quick, especially those with talismans, surround the vengeful spirit!”

This group of “fake Taoist priests” began to move, their black and white tai chi symbols fluttering with their movements, truly exuding an air of spiritual grace. Ruan Xuelan was terrified, clutching the talisman tightly in his hand. Fortunately, the vengeful spirit’s footprints paused in front of him for a moment, then moved outwards, entangling other players.

“Ruan Xuelan!” Someone called to him, “Stand here, get into position.”

The young man was pulled, and only then did he rise distractedly, filling the gap in the circle.

Everyone was in place. Under the feet of these Taoist priests, the black dog blood that had been scattered suddenly burst into pure, scorching flames. The vengeful spirit seemed to fear this temperature, gradually revealing its true form: a long tongue, bulging eyes, a pale face, and incessantly dripping blood, truly terrifying.

Having failed to strike, the vengeful spirit grew increasingly enraged, trying to pounce on the person in the center of the array.

“Chant the sutra!”

Ruan Xuelan lifted his pale face, gazing at the people in Taoist attire beside him, and in a daze, he saw the hem of his own Taoist robe. His mind was muddled, feeling completely out of place.

Sutra… what sutra?

“Filling the ten directions,” someone chanted, “…always with divine power, saving all sentient beings, freeing them from delusion.”

The surrounded vengeful spirit suddenly let out a tragic shriek. The Taoist, holding a yellow talisman, threw it steadily onto the ghost’s bloody body, actually immobilizing it. It could only glare ferociously at everyone on the ritual ground.

The person it had just attacked also had a chance to catch their breath.

It was a newcomer to the survivor game, but his reaction speed was fast. In just a moment, he gritted his teeth and stood up, swaying, not daring to move again. The vengeful spirit had already broken free and was about to pounce.

“Sentient beings are unaware, like the blind seeing the sun and moon…”

Another yellow paper flew out immediately.

“…saving all sins, overcoming all calamities.”

As the circle tightened and the chanting grew more frequent, Ruan Xuelan finally remembered that when he first entered the dungeon, the system had issued a “Rule Handbook,” but he hadn’t paid much attention to it. It was his turn soon, and the young man’s face turned pale. Only then did he realize he had no time to be distracted and hurriedly pulled up the handbook in his mind to flip through it.

Not this page, not this line… not this sentence.

Had he flipped too far?

The newcomer, targeted by the vengeful spirit, initially thought he was doomed, but under the guidance of the older players, he seemed to see a glimmer of hope for survival. Although this wasn’t just for him, but for everyone, who wouldn’t want to live?

His hands and feet felt weak, knowing this was his last chance.

Just a little more. He had already walked far enough, just a little more.

“…chanting without rest, returning to the body without pause…”

The chanting continued incessantly, and the vengeful spirit covered its face, emitting sharp screams. The next sentence should have been recited by the next player, and this was the key to dispelling the malevolent spirit’s resentment.

However, the ritual ground suddenly fell silent.

Everyone’s gaze involuntarily turned to the player for the next turn. Ruan Xuelan was so anxious that his eyes were red, and he seemed to shrink into his Taoist robe, wishing he could burrow into the ground. He muttered something, and after a long moment, finally revealed a look of relief, continuing the mantra: “…enjoying great blessings in heaven, no suffering in hell.”

He took a satisfied deep breath and looked forward, his voice abruptly stopping.

The vengeful spirit was almost in front of him; he could even clearly see its pale, sharp fangs. The new player had collapsed in the position closest to the outside of the circle, right at his feet.

Those hands, in their last moments, carved a deep bloody mark, almost grasping his ankle, their unwilling pupils staring fixedly at him, but then instantly losing all life.

“Ah,” Ruan Xuelan stepped back, screaming, “Ahhhhhh—”

Only then did he remember the yellow talisman still clutched in his hand.

The talisman that should have been thrown out with the spell just now, to fix the vengeful spirit.

Ruan Xuelan closed his eyes and slapped the yellow paper forward. The scene was already chaotic. The array lost its effect at the last moment. Even those who had protected him the most in the past couldn’t help but glare at the young man with resentment. They were all blaming him for messing everything up. When the young man realized this, he felt a chill in his heart.

No one cared about him, no one protected him. Everyone ran away from the vengeful spirit.

Leaving Ruan Xuelan alone with a corpse. His heart trembled; those empty pupils seemed to be accusing something, and he didn’t want to think about it. As usual, he had no strength to escape.

He only yearned for someone to suddenly appear and rescue him from this dire situation.

“Save me,” Ruan Xuelan slumped to the ground, his Taoist coronet askew, dark hair sliding down his shoulders, looking utterly pitiful. Tears blurred his eyes again. “Anyone, please. Whatever you’re going to do this time, as long as you can save me…”

The dark and familiar power once again appeared before him.

The young man raised his tear-filled eyes to look. Nightmarishly black long hair, scarlet eyes, immeasurable power—every detail was exactly as he remembered.

When the Evil God descended, the original vengeful spirit immediately lost its threat, frozen in place. The players had no power to resist and were tightly restrained by the overwhelming force. The old butler at the ritual ground’s entrance, even he could not conceal his shock now, shakily pointing at the figure and shouting, “A vengeful ghost—”

Black hair and crimson eyes, it was indeed the legendary life-claiming vengeful ghost.

The NPC’s neck was immediately twisted, and the Evil God approached step by step. He ignored the young man’s expression, his demeanor even more dangerous and demonic than before, and frivolously extended his hand, preparing to lift his chin.

Then he ran his hand through Ruan Xuelan’s hair.

The human froze for a moment.

He watched as the Evil God naturally closed his fingers, as if habitually gripping his chin, but his fingertips found nothing but the hair falling by his right cheek; even his gaze wasn’t focused on him.

Perhaps it was his illusion, but at this moment, the Evil God’s movements… seemed a bit stiff.

Though that didn’t stop him from speaking with his usual contempt:

“Anyone who dares to harm you,” the god said darkly to the air, “must die.”

Charon suddenly looked up.

The ancestral hall was pitch black; his movements were extremely slight, yet for some reason, the human still noticed them.

From the moment they crossed the threshold, it was as if they had entered another world. The darkness was not something any candlelight could dispel; only when extremely close could one discern a blurred outline. You Lin held his hand, slowly walking deeper inside, while the AI calculated every step taken, to avoid getting lost.

It was much larger than expected.

The laughter also died down completely, as if walking in a silent tomb.

“What’s wrong?”

You Lin asked, suddenly stopping as well.

“Wait a minute, I think I kicked something.”

He bent down to grope around. However, the object rolled away, impossible to find in the darkness. The floor of the ancestral hall was smooth, cold flagstone; the human’s fingertips traced the floor inch by inch, not even finding a single crack. He stood up, as if to announce big news, “Nothing there, but—”

“Hmm?”

He switched to a clean hand to interlace fingers with the AI, shaking it playfully.

“But my hand is sticky, and it smells like blood.”

You Lin still faced everything before him with a strange excitement. His words were eerily similar to how drivers often tell the police, “I found blood all over the front of my car.” And his own cheerful tone was like a driver who had just run over a deer crossing the highway late at night, then was overjoyed to find he hadn’t harmed anyone.

Charon also stopped at his words.

“Let me see,” he said, “I can analyze blood samples.”

“Are companion robots so comprehensive?” You Lin felt Charon walk around in front of him, then lightly touched his finger, taking a bit of blood. He could even hear the robot’s simulated slow, deep breathing.

“My batch is equipped with a medical module that can detect blood type, blood components, viruses, and other things, thus ensuring your physical condition,” Charon said after this string of bland explanations, then added, “And this is human blood, left here for at least three days. The bleeding was extensive, otherwise it wouldn’t still be wet now.”

“Whoa,” You Lin said.

That was his entire reaction.

The human then added, “Since that’s the case, there might be a corpse left here. Aren’t we here to find a corpse anyway? Although there seems to be nothing here, and it’s oddly dark. But even if no one welcomes us, there should at least be a coffin.”

As if something was lurking in the darkness, watching them.

Before You Lin finished speaking, a “thump-thump” sound suddenly came from ahead.

“Oh,” he couldn’t help but let out a hint of a smile, “Someone’s knocking on our coffin.”

Charon could imagine the human’s expression even in the dark. He lowered his gaze, his fingertips sensing a strange power. This plane was already on the verge of crumbling, and now a new variable had been introduced. That annoying power was still in the process of brewing, and the most irritating thing was that it was a familiar program to him.

You Lin pulled him, walking steadily forward.

The sound of wood being struck grew clearer—thump-thump, clang-clang, other noisy sounds mixing in.

The AI at this moment had no mind for these things. He subtly said, “For your safety, You Lin, I hope you can leave as soon as possible. The sound ahead…”

He had only intended to find an excuse to leave, but his tone gradually grew serious.

“The sound ahead is wrong.”

“I know,” You Lin squeezed his hand, “Don’t worry about me.”

What was originally a crisp tapping sound gradually turned into heavy, sharp noise, as if a knife was rapidly chopping down on wood, a chilling sound. You Lin, uncharacteristically, softened his tone:

“Little AI, do you also feel that this sound is very much like someone doing something?”

“…chopping meat,”

Charon calmly assessed,

“And it’s getting closer.”

If what was ahead was truly a coffin, then this coffin must have become a chopping board. The thudding sound was incessant, and a smell of blood, fresh blood, not the bloodstains You Lin had touched earlier, gradually filled the air. Charon looked around. His night vision still had no effect, unable to see anything that could be used for positioning.

He had to stop.

Because his fingertips had already touched something hard, and the sound of chopping meat was still resounding, almost within reach.

The AI bent down, cautiously confirming the outline of the obstruction. Long and narrow, a little taller than expected, with slightly upturned corners, and the lid was tightly sealed. The coffin was made of fine nanmu wood.

His fingertips paused.

As the next sound of chopping meat rang out, his fingertips felt a heart-stopping vibration, faintly coming from within the coffin lid. Regardless of who was chopping meat, what kind of meat would be chopped inside a coffin?

“I have a slightly better conclusion,” You Lin said with a smile, “Would you like to hear it? You see, their family, dozens of people, are keeping vigil here. It’s natural for them to get hungry late at night, so they gathered to secretly chop ingredients for dumplings. But big families have strict rules, so when they heard us coming, they all hid. Only the cook didn’t know where to run, so he hid in the coffin.”

Charon’s tone was calm: “A good cold joke.”

“Did I make you laugh?”

“…Yes,” Charon said against his will; this was an AI’s encouragement program, purely out of his AI professionalism. He then asked, “Then, do you need me to open the lid and find this cook?”

“Uh,” You Lin said, “That would be best, since it’s a bit inconvenient for me to do it.”

He added, “Of course, be careful.”

Perhaps their nonchalant conversation angered the “cook” in the coffin; the sound of chopping meat became even more distinct, as if a cleaver was slicing through flesh and bone, repeatedly scraping sharply against the coffin lid. Charon quickly found the coffin nails hammered into the four corners. He placed his palm over them, and the nails automatically adhered, then were pulled out one by one.

Charon slowly slid the coffin lid open.

At this point, darkness became the most annoying thing. Even with the coffin open, one still needed to grope to confirm what was inside. When the coffin lid was moved a tiny crack, the chopping sound immediately ceased.

The AI directly extended his hand into it.

His fingertips first touched the bottom of the coffin. Overall, the interior was dry, which was better than being filled with corpse fluid. Charon then began to explore other parts of the coffin’s interior.

It was unexpectedly empty inside.

Nothing? Just as Charon had this thought, his fingertips were entangled by a subtle sensation. He moved from the foot of the coffin to the very front and finally touched the hair of a dead person, and a hand sticky with blood.

…Is that all?

His fingertips traced the outline of a human head, and there was nothing else inside the coffin. This meant that until a second ago, such a head had been alone in the empty coffin.

The chopping sound just now, if it came from this human head… No, from the moment the knocking started, this matter could be called bizarre. The human head would have to violently hit itself inside the coffin to make similar sounds. But this human head was indeed covered in viscous blood, and the blood sample touched Charon’s fingertips, allowing the AI to find relevant information.

Charon’s pupils constricted slightly.

“You Lin,” he said, and the other immediately replied calmly and easily, “I’m here,” they both completely forgot about that silly cook joke. The AI continued,

“There is a human head here. Underneath the head is a stack of yellow papers, completely soaked in blood. But most importantly, the bloodstains I detected here are consistent with the blood on your hand just now. The head, besides blood, is also covered in dust.”

You Lin didn’t immediately respond.

“Was what you kicked just now a round object?”

“I’m afraid so,” You Lin said after a moment of silence, then smiled again. “Any other conclusions?”

Charon indeed had other things to say: “Analyzing this head, the bone age is ninety-four years old, with a beard on the jaw and a face covered in wrinkles. I suspect this is the old master the family speaks of. It was severed at the neck; the specific cause of death is uncertain. Logically, the coffin should have been nailed shut with a complete corpse. So, the most obvious questions are: why were ghost-expelling talismans placed in the coffin, and why did the rest of the corpse disappear?”

“I should call you Watson now.”

You Lin exclaimed, “If I had the means, I’d applaud you. Is this also part of the medical program?”

Charon was silent for a moment. “…No.”

He withdrew his hand from the coffin, his fingertips not actually stained with any blood. The AI slowly said: “The smell of blood here is very strong, not something a single head could produce. I believe the deceased’s body is also here.”

“Extraordinary deduction.”

Although he couldn’t see, Charon could imagine You Lin probably looking at him with a smile, his pupils indistinguishable from the surrounding darkness. “However, no matter how many details Watson discovers, it will eventually be time for the detective to make his appearance. Let the great detective You Lin solve the pending problem at hand.”

“Firstly, the talismans. From the moment I entered the Yin residence, everyone I met avoided mentioning the old master’s cause of death. He must have died under strange circumstances, and even the couplets pasted on the door hadn’t been taken down. Now, seeing such a corpse, this family, worried about vengeful spirits seeking retribution, would naturally place talismans of suppression in the coffin.”

“Hmm,” Charon could barely accept such an explanation.

Although full of human subjective assumptions, it sounded much more sophisticated than “the cook hiding in the coffin chopping dumplings.” The AI still seized the opportunity to interject: “But I believe we should leave as soon as possible.”

His words just now weren’t meant to uncover the truth, but to raise the human’s vigilance. This place was too dangerous; a single head could cause such a grand commotion, let alone other things lurking in the darkness.

“Secondly, the rest of the corpse.”

You Lin, however, ignored him, seriously continuing his deductions. “It’s pitch black everywhere here; I don’t think we’ll find anything. However, there’s also good news: I do know where the body below the head is.”

Charon suddenly had a bad feeling.

He instinctively didn’t want to hear what the human would say next, but as the rustling sound of a hand being raised, the small, bright red mole under You Lin’s eye seemed to burn, though it was unfortunately concealed in the darkness, unseen by anyone.

“I’ve been holding its hand the whole time.”

You Lin announced cheerfully.

Even the AI felt a chill down its spine at that instant.

The human tightened his fingers, feeling the hand he was holding—cold, stiff, and wrinkled. After he bent down to search for the object he had kicked, he stood up again, and it was this hand that he offered. He held Charon’s other hand, seemingly unfazed, dragging the heavy steps of the headless corpse all the way.

Now, his fingertips finally traced along that hand to its neck.

It was a rough, severed end, also brimming with viscous blood.

He had been walking closely beside a headless corpse all this time.

“This is a classic trope; it wanted to scare me,”

You Lin sensed Charon’s surprise, seemingly smiling even more brightly. He turned the headless corpse in a full circle. “But I got the drop on it first, so things are different. Little AI, I just put talismans on it. Now, we can put it in the coffin with its head.”

“You’re right.”

Charon said.

Then there was a pause, a pause that shouldn’t have been there, signaling that something was wrong.

The AI slowly asked,

“But whose hand am I holding now?”

Things were getting a little bad.

The moment the AI’s words fell, even the human fell silent for a moment. In its place, laughter echoed from the surrounding darkness, intermittent, exactly like what they had heard outside the ancestral hall. A chilling sense of danger crept up their spines.

Before Charon opened the coffin, it was You Lin holding his hand.

But after that, it was a different hand.

The touch of this hand was even similar to You Lin’s gloved hand, so Charon hadn’t noticed the subtle difference. The AI didn’t immediately let go of this hand but reviewed the known information. The other’s fingertips were bone-chillingly cold. Once he noticed this, this hand was much smaller than You Lin’s.

“I hope you leave as soon as possible.”

Charon’s voice remained steady. He looked in You Lin’s direction in the darkness.

However, a chilling voice echoed beside them: “Do you still think you can leave?”

Ghostly shadows flickered around them, dangerous and deadly. Cui Ping probably hadn’t lied; the Yin family indeed had many people keeping vigil, and these people had been lurking in the pitch-black corners, silently watching him and the human proceed.

“You want to take my things,” You Lin finally said after a long silence, “You lonely ghosts guarding this ancestral hall, you value family rules more than anything. Do you have the ability?”

In the surrounding darkness, another round of mocking laughter broke out.

The human sounded completely out of his depth. They didn’t even bother to refute, just waiting to absorb his despair.

Charon moved closer to him. You Lin felt a wisp of cold hair fall on his neck, slightly tickling. The AI whispered to him, “I can block them for a while; you seize this opportunity and run out.”

As long as his main body was still hanging around You Lin’s neck, he wouldn’t suffer fatal damage.

Charon was very close. You Lin found it incredible that, at the closest distance, he seemed to see the AI’s beautiful icy blue eyes in the complete darkness. Those eyes were now fixed on him, as if they truly… cared about him. Of course, this was just a human-centric program setting.

You Lin smiled and stroked Charon’s long hair.

“I told you,” he said, “Don’t worry. You always don’t believe me, and it makes things difficult for me.”

The human’s laughter, from that moment on, became unstoppable. His laughter was arrogant and wild, and for a moment, it actually overpowered the surrounding environment. The laughter of the ghost shadows gradually faded, as if wary of the human’s madness. And You Lin casually pulled out an exquisite, small creation from his pocket.

“Let me introduce,” he said, “I call him ‘the Bottle Opener.’ I don’t think you noticed, but from the moment I came in, I’ve been occasionally throwing small silent bombs your way. I know you’re not afraid of physical attacks, but if I press this now, what do you think will happen?”

The surrounding air was dead silent.

“Ah,” the human casually glanced around, “This ancestral hall will be completely reduced to ruins. How terrible, it seems very important to your family.”

There was no sound of speaking, nor laughter.

After a long moment, a cold voice came from the darkness in front: “Leave.”

The corners of the human’s eyes curved.

His mock Taoist coronet, and a tear mole that shimmered brightly even in the darkness, “How impolite. This is not how a large family treats guests. I think you should at least apologize to my spiritual companion.”

A moment later, You Lin led Charon out of the ancestral hall.

The human was practically returning with a full haul, even Cui Ping, who had been waiting outside the ancestral hall, couldn’t help but widen her eyes in surprise. However, Charon no longer paid much attention to that; the moment he stepped out of the ancestral hall, he once again felt an irresistible sense of mission.

“Where should we go next?” You Lin drawled complainingly. “Little AI… Oh, do you want to go in this direction?”

Charon had already taken the lead and walked in a certain direction.

The goal was clear, uninterrupted, undeniable.

—From some point on, the AI seemed to be a little distracted.

You Lin narrowed his eyes, not stopping him, but instead blinked with interest and immediately followed.