[Soul-Shaking Ancient Village] The first victim

Beneath the boundless sky, fierce winds swept the snow across the land.

Amid the ice and snow, a fire flickered inside a cave! Flames blazed fiercely, roasting indistinct bodies one after another.

Outside the cave, countless footprints, large and small, stretched across the snow, with spots of dark red blood forming an unbroken trail.

Before long, however, frost and snow covered them.

Someone came through the snow, a black trench coat snapping in the wind like a flying banner! His face was handsome, and a layer of frost and snow had settled on his brows and eyes, making him look even more aloof and cold.

It was Si Yehan. He dragged two corpses toward the cave entrance.

Outside, wind and snow raged; before him lay deep darkness.

Without the slightest hesitation, he walked inside. When the firelight came into view and the cave grew much brighter, he threw the two corpses, one old and one young, into the flames.

The fire crackled. Beneath the flames, corpses lay piled like a mountain, twisted and contorted.

The fire flickered, and frost covered everything.

The dream continued amid boundless slaughter, showing no sign of ending.

Si Yehan walked out of the cave and stepped back into the wind and snow. His figure was gradually swallowed up until he disappeared.

As the night deepened, the entire village was shrouded in a deathly silence.

A faint wailing gradually spread. It was a group of children crying, boys' and girls' voices mingling in a piercing, grating chorus.

The wailing was especially clear beside the Elder Care Tower, and it could naturally be heard just as clearly in the three-story building next door.

In the rooms on the second floor, everyone was fast asleep.

The doors and windows provided decent soundproofing, so the noise was not too piercing.

In room 201.

The burly man's fingers twitched slightly as he was jolted awake from a hazy, chaotic dream.

The moment he heard the children crying outside, the burly man felt a chill spread through his body. Hearing ghosts in a dungeon was certainly no good thing. From the earlier background introduction, he could guess that the ghosts' killing rule was definitely connected to sound.

At the same time, heavy footsteps rang out in the second-floor corridor, echoing as they struck the floorboards.

The instant the words "Those Nearing the End Must Remain Silent" surfaced in his mind, the burly man realized he must not open his eyes and had to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

The instincts he had honed in previous battles made him too easy to wake. Now he could only use various psychological self-hypnosis techniques to force himself back to sleep as quickly as possible.

His consciousness gradually sank. Two hunched shadows with indistinct faces stood at the window by him and the male student, their scarlet eyes gleaming. Their long, slender fingers looked like white bones, and they seemed to want to touch them, but were held back by an invisible barrier.

Seeing no sign that either of them would wake anytime soon, the shadows did not recede like a tide. Instead, they remained standing there, as if waiting for prey to come to them.

In room 202.

The ponytailed woman and the female doctor were both sleeping soundly, their faces peaceful. Countless bluish-black hands intertwined beneath the bed like a forest, clustered around them without touching them.

The female doctor murmured in her sleep, but her words were indistinct. A childlike ghost crawled out from under the bed and brought its face within half a fist's distance of hers.

If the female doctor woke up, she would surely scream in fright. The childlike ghost's eye sockets were pitch-black, blood streamed down its face, and there was a hole in its head. Its open mouth was full of sharp teeth, and faces with all kinds of expressions appeared on those teeth.

Bluish-black hands waved as little ghosts drew close to the two women, also waiting silently.

In room 203.

The man in the suit lay on the bed, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. He seemed to be having a pleasant dream, constantly mumbling disconnected fragments: "Mom... I... get... treatment..."

Hunched shadows spread in through the window, while slender ghostly figures crawled out of the mirror, their hair hanging loose. Their eyes were picked out in blood, and their lips were mere slits, tightly pressed shut.

The ghostly figures gathered around the bed, looking down at the man in the suit.

In room 204.

The woman in the white dress gradually fell asleep as she chatted with the loose-haired woman, leaving the latter talking to herself. Tears streamed down her face, and she spoke through gritted teeth. "When I received the Weird Game's invitation, it was the night before my promotion. My mom had come to celebrate with me. My parents divorced many years ago, and Mom raised me on her own. She never remarried.

"My mom had a bad heart. When she heard knocking, she went to answer the door, but found no one there. The knocking kept going, though... She was scared to death. I really hate this game so much. Calling the police and an ambulance afterward didn't help at all. I kept holding on to that invitation, but no one except me could see it..."

The loose-haired woman sat on the bed. The moment she heard an odd sound outside, she fell silent and stiffened. She hurriedly wiped away her tears and lay down under the covers. She wanted to die, but she could not die yet. She wanted to see if she could use the Weird Game to bring her mother back to life.

The sound of children crying lingered, making it even harder for the loose-haired woman to fall asleep in her already lifeless state of mind.

The footsteps in the corridor sent ripples of fear through her heart.

Her body trembled slightly, but as she thought of the scene of her mother's death, her fear of ghosts gradually faded a little. Yet a ghost's killing rule would not fail to trigger simply because you were unafraid.

The footsteps outside in the corridor grew more and more distant, seeming to disappear. The loose-haired woman quietly parted her eyelids a sliver and looked out.

At that glance, her heart skipped half a beat, and she screamed instinctively. Three little ghosts were staring at her with grins on their bleeding faces. Their eyes were utterly empty, showing not the slightest flicker of emotion.

When faced with fear, people instinctively seek out their own kind for help. The loose-haired woman hurriedly tried to wake the woman in the white dress, only to find that she could not touch her at all.

Bluish-black hands climbed over her body, tearing open her clothes and ripping away her skin with them, exposing her flesh to the air.

The loose-haired woman screamed in terror, but the next moment, a bluish-black hand reached into her mouth, pulled out her tongue, and destroyed her vocal cords. Blood welled up in her throat, and tears of pain flowed involuntarily as she rolled off the bed.

In her heart, she cried out, hoping for a miracle.

But none came. The loose-haired woman's hair was torn off as well, her scalp stripped away, leaving her whole body covered in blood.

Wailing, she was dragged under the bed, where countless little ghosts pounced on her, dismembering and devouring her. The killing rule seemed clear by now: responding to the ghosts' cries.

As death approached, a thought surfaced in her heart: Mom, even though I can't bring you back to life, I'm coming to be with you. And I really... hurt so much.

In room 205, ghosts crowded around Si Yehan's bed: hunched ghostly elders, ghosts with indistinct faces, little ghosts by and beneath the bed, and ghostly faces constantly appearing on the ceiling.

The dark light flickered on and off, but Si Yehan slept especially soundly, completely unaffected. Because of the amusing things in his dream, he unconsciously radiated the malice normally concealed beneath his cold indifference.

The ghosts simply remained in the room in silence, their gazes showing not the slightest trace of emotion, only deathly stillness on their bloodstained faces.