The basement felt like a different world.
Colder. Wetter. Hungrier.
I clung to the staircase railing, every step echoing with a groan that made the walls twitch. Ren moved ahead of me, silent as a shadow, every movement calculated. I tried to mimic his pace, but I wasn't him. I wasn't Lin Yusheng either, not really. I was someone pretending to be someone pretending not to be afraid.
At the bottom, the staircase opened into a wide corridor. Four doors. One on each wall. Each one had a name carved into it.
Ren's name was on the left. Mine was on the right.
The other two read:
"Truth"
"Consequences"
I didn't like that at all.
Ren didn't look surprised. "The first trial always splits the players."
"You mean isolates them?"
"Same thing."
"Is this where you say good luck and disappear?"
He turned to me fully now, eyes searching. "You really don't know the format of this trial, do you?"
I hesitated. "Humor me."
Ren sighed. "We survive three nights in this place. Alone, for the most part. The house adapts. Every choice matters. If you lie to it, it knows. If you're scared, it feeds on that. You hesitate, you die."
"And you know this how?"
"I've done this loop before." His jaw clenched. "Once."
That didn't make sense. I'd read the original WebNovel. Ren Hanyuan didn't repeat trials. Each game was a one-time run. If he'd seen this before…
The system had changed the script.
Suddenly, the speaker crackled to life again, the voice loud and cold:
"Trial Parameters Confirmed."
"Survive three nights."
"One truth per night. One consequence per day."
"Failure to play results in immediate deletion."
I looked at Ren. "What does that mean?"
"It means if you don't interact, you vanish." He pointed at the door labeled "Truth." "That's where we start."
He didn't wait for me this time. He pushed the door open and walked in.
A gust of hot air burst from it, carrying the scent of copper and rot.
I swallowed hard and followed.
Inside, the room stretched like a tunnel lined with mirrors. Dozens of them. Each one showed something different, and none of them showed our reflections.
Instead, they showed memories.
In one, I saw Lin Yusheng as a child, curled up in a closet, hiding from someone screaming.
In another, he was laughing at a school desk, until the screen flickered and that joy shattered into blood and static.
I tore my eyes away. These weren't mine. Not really. But my brain had inherited them, along with his body. And now the house was playing them back like highlights on a broken projector.
Ren didn't flinch. He walked steadily past the mirrors, his eyes scanning, ignoring the images.
I forced my legs to move.
At the end of the tunnel, there was a small wooden chair. On it sat a tape recorder, already playing.
"To survive, you must confess one truth."
"Say it out loud. Make it real. Or stay silent and face the consequence."
Ren didn't pause. He reached for the recorder and spoke into it.
"I let someone die because they were slowing me down."
The tape whirred.
"Truth accepted."
A mirror beside him cracked, then melted into shadow.
I turned to my own tape recorder, already dreading it.
The words came before I could stop them.
"I didn't like Lin Yusheng when I read about him. I thought he was pathetic. Now I'm the one trying not to cry in his skin."
There was a long pause.
Then:
"Truth accepted."
Another mirror cracked. This time, the air grew warmer, heavier.
"Let's go," Ren said quietly. "Before it changes its mind."
Back in the hallway, our name doors glowed faintly. The "Consequences" door was still closed, pulsing with an ominous hum. I wasn't eager to find out what was behind it.
"Do we sleep now?" I asked. "Or is the house going to attack us with our childhood traumas first?"
Ren glanced at me, something unreadable in his eyes. "Night starts when you enter your room. Try not to scream."
"That reassuring, huh?"
He opened his door and disappeared inside without another word.
I stood in front of mine, palms sweating.
The handle was icy.
The room beyond was worse.
The light flickered on as I stepped in. Dust coated every surface. The bed was small, barely more than a cot, and the walls were covered in writing. Not elegant cursive. Scratches. Frantic, messy lines that dug into the paint like claw marks.
They repeated the same sentence:
"I'm not alone in here."
I didn't sit. I didn't lie down. I just stared at the walls, counting how many times it had been carved.
At least a hundred.
I jumped when the door slammed behind me.
The light clicked off.
I was plunged into darkness.
Then something laughed.
Softly.
From under the bed.
I backed into the corner, grabbing the only weapon in the room—a splintered table leg. The laugh came again, closer now. It sounded like me. But higher-pitched. Fragile.
The light flicked on, then off again, like a broken strobe.
Each flash showed something crawling from under the bed. Limbs too long. A face like mine—but smeared, smeared like paint running in the rain.
"Don't lie," it whispered.
I closed my eyes. This was a memory. Or a test. Or both.
"I'm not him," I said aloud. "I'm not Lin Yusheng. But I don't want to die."
The thing froze. The light buzzed.
Then it said, "Good."
It crawled backward. Slowly. Then disappeared.
The door unlocked with a loud click.
I burst out of the room into the hallway.
Ren was already waiting, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Scream?"
"Almost."
He nodded, like that was the right answer.
I sat down on the floor, heart pounding, adrenaline wearing off.
"Is it like this every night?"
"Worse," he said. "The house learns."
I looked at him, really looked this time. His eyes were dark with exhaustion, but his posture was still perfect, every muscle tensed like he expected the walls to collapse.
"You've really done this before?" I asked.
Ren hesitated. "Yes."
"But that shouldn't be possible. No one repeats the first trial."
He didn't respond.
I watched him for a long moment. "How long have you been stuck here?"
He didn't meet my gaze. "Long enough to know that if you want to survive, you don't ask questions you can't afford answers to."