Upon returning to the inn, Eric did not head straight to her room. Still bearing the grime from the Hot Spring Villa mission, she took her disguise a step further.
Once fully prepared, she stationed herself near the entrance of the inn.
It was a clumsy tactic, but Eric believed this watchful waiting was more worthwhile than loitering near room 4124. As long as the young man was alive—whether heading out for a mission or simply to eat—he would eventually have to leave the building.
At last, around 5:30 PM, she spotted the dazed young man emerging from the elevator and stepping out the inn's front door. He rubbed his neck as he walked, his expression dark and brooding. Without hesitation, Eric followed.
It was, admittedly, absurd to shadow someone based on a fleeting scuffle.
Yet she was unwilling to overlook even the slimmest clue that might unravel the mystery behind Justin's five-member team recruitment.
Vincent went to a nearby restaurant. After dining, he returned directly to the inn. As he stepped into the elevator, Eric followed him in.
Inside, she spoke plainly. "I want to make a deal with you."
Vincent turned to look at her, his brows furrowed in wary confusion.
"I'll trade you an item," Eric said, meeting his gaze. "All I want to know is how Lydia died."
Vincent's pupils contracted, and his breath caught. Eric felt the tension spike in him like a hedgehog bristling its spines. She pretended not to notice and produced a prop.
"This item is a gesture of goodwill. After our deal, I'll give you another. Say nothing for now—whether you seek vengeance or something else, these props might be of use to you. The ones I give are all unbound."
"Impossible!" Vincent blurted out.
"You'll see for yourself," Eric replied calmly.
After a moment's hesitation, Vincent accepted the item from the stranger.
**\[Item · Miss Sweetie's Birthday Gift · Crystal Ball]**
It was, indeed, unbound. As soon as he took hold of it, the system prompted: *\[Bind this item?]*
Astonishment flashed in Vincent's heart. He had never heard of unbound items surfacing at a transfer station! If it wasn't bound, how had it been brought out from a dungeon? And if this player had two such items to spare, how many more did she possess?
"When the deal is done, I won't trouble you again. I only wish to know about the dungeon that led to Lydia's death." With that, Eric fell silent, leaving the choice to him.
*Ding.*
The elevator doors slid open. The third floor.
"…Fine. Let's talk," Vincent agreed at last.
Five minutes later, Eric sat on a chair inside a spacious room. The surroundings clearly indicated that a woman also lived there.
Vincent handed her a glass of water and slumped wearily into the chair across from her.
"Thank you," Eric said, making no effort to rush him. She sat quietly, hands wrapped around the cup.
After more than ten minutes, Vincent finally began to speak.
Though he didn't know much, what little he did share was quickly recounted.
"…Lydia and I joined the Crescent Society together. Maxwell—the other guy you saw me fighting—he's the leader of the group… One day, Lydia told me she'd been chosen as a core member. Maxwell offered her the penthouse suite at the Society's HQ, but she was reluctant to leave me and kept staying here with me instead. A few days ago, Lydia stumbled upon a secret. She never hid anything from me, so I learned it too," Vincent said, pain twisting his face. "Maxwell told her he had a prop that could allow five players to enter the same instance. He said the dungeon was an upgraded version of a regular paranormal one, and that clearing it would grant 444 points."
Eric's heart skipped a beat.
**444 points.** If one could clear it ten times and complete a regular instance as well, that would be enough to hit the point threshold…
But it was obvious: such a dungeon had to be extremely dangerous.
"I didn't want Lydia to go. I told her I'd wait for her—there was no need to rush into danger just to catch up to me. I'd entered the game half a year before her—it made sense that I had more points. I told her I'd wait for her…"
Vincent's eyes reddened, tears welling up.
"She said she'd thought it over and wasn't going anymore. But she lied. She went in secret. By the time I found out, it was too late. Only Maxwell came back. Five people went in. Only Maxwell came out!"
Gritting his teeth, Vincent growled, "That dungeon must be cursed. Why else would only the leader survive and everyone else perish?"
Eric now had a rough idea of the truth.
Justin had said all the other members of the Mingyang Mutual Aid Group had died—likely in a similar dungeon.
This made his urgency to recruit replacements crystal clear. He wanted to run another 444-point paranormal dungeon—and she, Sarah, Kevin, and whoever became the fifth member were likely intended to serve as disposable bait.
But… how had Vincent survived despite knowing all this?
Killing a player often led to consequences, but someone like Maxwell would undoubtedly have means to deal with them. Silencing Vincent would've been the safest route. Otherwise, how could he continue operating?
Eric, skeptical, voiced her doubts.
"You seem surprisingly well-informed. Sure, Maxwell could've risked killing you—but what if you decided to let it go?" Vincent sneered. "I pretended to be tempted by the rewards he offered. He promised to take me on the next mission. After all, profits come first. Lydia's already dead. No point in dragging the matter out. But I won't let him off that easily."
Eric thought he was playing a dangerous game. But she said nothing. Instead, she fulfilled her part of the bargain and handed over a second item:
**\[Item · Miss Sweetie's Birthday Gift · Rhino Comb]**
"I don't know exactly what these items do. Decide for yourself whether to bind them."
Vincent said nothing. Eric took that as her cue to leave.
She exited the inn and, just before 6:00 PM, stepped into the mission hall's teleportation circle—a preplanned escape. By the time she emerged again, Vincent wouldn't recognize her, even if he bore ill will due to the props.
—
Grimy and disheveled, Eric found herself inside a cafeteria. Students bustled around her.
Looking down, she saw a stainless steel tray before her—rice, braised pork belly, stir-fried green beans, and stewed tofu.
"Come on, let's go get soup! They're serving seaweed egg drop today—my favorite!" a stranger called to her—an NPC, most likely.
"Sure," Eric replied casually. "You go ahead, I'll catch up."
As the NPC walked away, she rose and headed for the exit.
"Where am I? Who are you people?" a voice called out. Eric turned. A new player, clearly disoriented.
She was about to respond when she saw an NPC at a nearby table suddenly double over, clutching his throat in agony.
Concerned students rushed over. "What's wrong? Are you choking?"
The NPC snapped his head up, jaw gaping unnaturally wide. In the noisy hall, Eric swore she heard the bones in his mouth dislocate and crack apart.
**"Grk-grk—"**
Eric's face darkened. She suspected this wasn't a standard instance after all.
The next moment, a glistening, mucus-coated mass pushed its way from the NPC's throat—like a flower bud that had stored an entire winter's worth of energy, now blooming grotesquely in spring.
**"Aahh!"**
The thing burst outward and flared open—an obscene blossom of flesh blooming on a human face.
**"Aaahhh!!"**
The parasitic bloom writhed, leapt out, and latched onto the nearest NPC, worming into the poor soul's screaming mouth.
Terrified cries echoed. NPCs stumbled back.
Eric ran for the exit. The short eight-meter sprint was anything but smooth. What she'd seen was only the beginning. More students began doubling over without warning, vomiting and collapsing.
Disgusted, Eric had no desire to let those creatures touch her. She grabbed a discarded tray from a table, dumped the food, and fashioned it into a makeshift shield.
She didn't stop running.
A rush of air. Without looking back, she swung the tray behind her—hard.
**Clang!**
The tray struck a parasitic creature midair, sending it flying, though the tray cracked down the middle.
Bursting from the cafeteria, Eric looked back and saw students writhing on the floor, clawing at their throats, trying desperately to extract the invading organisms.
Futile. Soon their movements ceased. Some even rose to their feet, appearing normal—walking calmly out.
A chill crept into Eric's bones. Perhaps the parasitized bodies could still function for a time, until their organs and flesh were completely consumed—then the creatures would emerge and seek new hosts.
Whether right or wrong, Eric had no time to find out.
As she passed a classroom building, she heard screams within.
The outbreak resembled a zombie apocalypse. Eric understood one thing clearly: the only way to survive was to avoid the crowd.
She had to leave the school. The campus was far too densely populated.
Making her decision swiftly, she began searching for the exit. Grabbing an NPC by the arm, she barked, "Where's the school gate?!"
"Th-that way—"
"Thanks!"
A shadow dropped from above, landing beside her with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed her face.
From the mangled corpse, a parasite burst out and lunged for her.
She didn't discard the broken tray. Tilting the jagged edge, she blocked the attack.
**Splack.**
The wet, elastic body was sliced in two. It hit the ground in twitching halves.