chapter 3

Qin Nan was assigned a standard room-Room 3907.

He checked the entire room first.

It was no different from any other hotel standard room. If there was anything unusual-Qin Nan’s gaze landed on the nightstand. A Script lay there, and on the cover were the words: Death Crew.

There was a brief synopsis inside. Death Crew told the story of a film crew that suffered repeated accidents during production. One by one, people on the crew died in “accidents,” until the movie was finally completed-at which point, not a single person from the entire crew survived.

A strange thought flickered through Qin Nan’s mind.

He kept reading.

The Script had been scrambled and arranged by shooting order. The first scene took place at the hotel where the crew staff were staying, and it clearly stated-Room 3909.

Right next door to him.

Seeing that number, Qin Nan’s pupils tightened instinctively.

Just a coincidence, he told himself.

His eyes returned to the Script.

Qin Nan was a big-name Weibo influencer. His main gig was roasting film and TV dramas, and after doing it for so long, the moment he saw the ways people died, he reflexively started hunting for plot holes.

What an awful Script.

Qin Nan gave a short laugh and tossed it back onto the nightstand. But that terrible Script yanked his thoughts away from Fatty’s death. He took a deep breath, and the heavy stone pressing on his chest seemed to lighten a little.

After everything that had happened today, Qin Nan was mentally and physically drained. He took a quick hot shower, and the moment he lay down and his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.

He slept well-straight through to morning.

Qin Nan was jolted awake by a scream from next door.

Rubbing his hair with a scowl, he opened the door and headed to the room beside his.

“It’s early as hell. What are you yelling for?” Qin Nan snapped.

No one answered.

The room was eerily quiet. A beat later, Qin Nan realized something was wrong. Still bleary-eyed, he looked straight at the bed.

3909 was also a standard room. Like him, the guest had been staying alone.

And that person was now lying on the bed, already dead. The white sheets beneath him had been soaked red, blood spreading out under his body in a horrific stain. Qin Nan froze. A few lines of text flashed through his mind, and he instinctively looked up at the ceiling.

The ceiling light cover had been shattered. You could still make out cracks along the edges.

“…What happened?” It took Qin Nan a long moment to find his voice. When he finally spoke, it came out hoarse.

Xia Zeqin stood not far from the bed. Hearing Qin Nan, he turned over. “We came to call him for breakfast. The door was open. We walked in, and it was like this.”

Qin Nan’s gaze returned to the bed, then slowly dropped to the floor.

There were shards of broken glass from the light cover scattered there.

Qin Nan clenched his fist without thinking. “I-” The word had barely left his mouth when his eyes fell on Xia Zeqin.

Xia Zeqin was watching the corpse with a half-smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

In that instant, Qin Nan cooled down completely.

Whether it was Fatty, who had died yesterday, or the person now lying lifeless on the bed, they had both been part of Xia Zeqin’s group. Xia Zeqin’s attitude toward the deaths of his own companions was… off. He wasn’t a good partner to work with.
Qin Nan chose to keep his mouth shut.

“Everyone, disperse,” Xia Zeqin said. He casually hooked an arm around the waist of the woman beside him and left with her as if it were no big deal.

Once he was gone, the others finally started to move as well.

Maybe they were still afraid of death, but they also seemed to have gotten used to it-at least a little. Out of these twelve people, he was probably the only newcomer. Qin Nan realized that, and for him, it wasn’t good news.

“Come on.” Jian Fan patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it soon.” His tone was the same as always, but that small gesture made Qin Nan feel a hint of warmth, like standing in a blizzard and suddenly catching a breath of heat.

Qin Nan turned to look at Jian Fan. Jian Fan had already turned and started walking out. All of a sudden, Qin Nan had an idea.

“I need to talk to you,” Qin Nan said.

Jian Fan stopped and looked back. A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he raised an eyebrow at Qin Nan.

Qin Nan didn’t bother explaining. He walked straight out, but as he left the room, he still glanced back.

All standard hotel rooms were the same. The layout here was identical to his.

Except there was an extra camera in the corner.

Qin Nan quickly pulled his gaze away.

Jian Fan followed him into his room.

“What do you want to say?” Jian Fan asked first.

Qin Nan didn’t answer. He went to the nightstand, picked up the Script, and handed it to Jian Fan. “Did you read the Script in the room?”

Jian Fan nodded. “The first act of the Script-Death Premonition.” His expression was calm. “Everyone here is an Old Player. No one would ignore anything in the room.”

Qin Nan pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “So you all knew, but not a single one of you said it out loud.” The realization left his mood even more complicated.

Jian Fan gave a low chuckle, edged with mockery. “No one can guarantee the teammate you think you have won’t end up sticking a knife in your chest.”

Qin Nan fell silent.

“Anything else?” Jian Fan asked.

“You didn’t actually have to tell me any of that,” Qin Nan said.

Jian Fan tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So?”

“You need a companion,” Qin Nan said bluntly. “You threw me an olive branch. I can give you my answer now.”

Jian Fan smiled. “Did I?”

“All you have to consider is whether you want to accept me as your Partner,” Qin Nan said.

Jian Fan didn’t reply right away. “Xia Zeqin is obviously the better choice for you.”

Qin Nan shook his head. “Making a deal with a tiger-one wrong step, and you lose everything.”

His answer seemed to catch Jian Fan off guard. Something complicated flickered across Jian Fan’s face.

Jian Fan still didn’t give him a direct answer. Instead, he started explaining how the Realm of Death worked.

“Every time the Realm of Death opens, a story world will have twelve Players. If a Player dies, then when the next world opens, a new member will be automatically matched in to fill the numbers back up. It might be an Old Player from another world, or it might be someone new like you.

“If you successfully survive a world, you get a guaranteed five hundred Points. The Player who solves the world gets extra Points. And depending on how many people are still alive at the end, every additional survivor adds one hundred Points.

“Once you save up ten thousand Points, you can return to the real world. But most of the time, one single world will burn through the Points you managed to stockpile over several worlds.”

The rules were straightforward enough, but that didn’t mean this was going to be easy.