Who the hell are you?

Public security was poor during the eighties and nineties, and drivers had to be extra cautious; many taxi drivers would specifically install iron mesh in their vehicles to partition off the driver's seat.

Perhaps because many of the older generation of drivers carried those days into the 2000s, they more or less retained certain habits, such as keeping useful tools in the car for self-defense.

"Hoo..." Zhang Anzai grabbed the hammer, slammed the trunk shut, turned, and sat in the driver's seat.

He opened the storage box, placed his drink inside, tucked his notebook behind his waist, and slid the claw hammer into the door's storage slot.

"Did you buy everything?"

Zhang Anzai silently inserted the key, started the engine, turned, and pulled away, responding, "Bought it all."

A strange silence filled the car. After driving for a short while, Zhang Anzai still didn't know how to break the ice; he didn't even turn on the radio, just kept driving.

Watching the highway stretch out before him, the surrounding scenery returning to its familiar state, a chill slowly crept over his entire body.

"Who the hell are you!"

Zhang Anzai felt that buying the energy drink had been a waste; how could he possibly sleep in this situation!

Right there in the passenger seat, which had been empty just moments ago, sat a young man who looked roughly his own size.

Because the light in the car was dim, and he was gripped by fear due to this bizarre situation, Zhang Anzai couldn't make out his face.

The most troublesome part was that although Zhang Anzai realized something was wrong, when he first got into the car and drove away from the gas station, he hadn't felt that anything was amiss at all.

Perhaps because the player's body and the company's main entity shared a single consciousness, he hadn't initially remembered that he should have been alone in the car.

Is my consciousness malfunctioning? Zhang Anzai finally confirmed this reality.

He thought back carefully, recalling a few things.

So he asked, "Chen Xing, how long did you say Highway 44 was?"

Chen Xing, sitting beside him, replied in a perfectly normal, youthful voice, "I don't know."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Anzai held his breath for a moment before starting to breathe deeply.

Chen Xing, my childhood friend... but this is a dungeon! How could a childhood friend just pop up in the middle of nowhere!

He realized that the knowledge of having such a friend had been inexplicably injected into his brain, which was why he hadn't found it strange to have someone sitting next to him, and had even felt a sense of familiarity and closeness.

However, not long after driving off, he had subconsciously shifted his focus back to his main entity and checked the screen, which suddenly triggered the realization that he was inside a dungeon.

Once his habitual consciousness was broken, he suddenly spotted the anomaly.

Unless it's a multiplayer versus dungeon, any other players in this instance should be under my control, but the screen didn't show any. If they aren't players, are they NPCs? Was this NPC here from the start?

With just these few simple thoughts, Zhang Anzai realized something was wrong.

Where had this Chen Xing appeared from out of thin air?

He immediately confirmed that this so-called Chen Xing beside him, whether ghost or human, was absolutely wrong. He was the kind of monster rarely seen even in dungeons—one capable of tampering with cognition.

Luckily... the player matched into this dungeon is me. Zhang Anzai understood that he was only able to react because his consciousness had briefly returned to his main entity.

He had shifted from an immersive experience to an observer's perspective, which allowed him to spot the discrepancy.

If it had been an average player, they might not have felt that anything was wrong at all, and even with item prompts, they might not have been able to wake up.

So, the question is, what now? Zhang Anzai watched the highway stretch ahead. The Chen Xing beside him, who made him feel so uneasy, didn't seem to be making any special moves.

If things continued like this, he might have a chance to drive off this highway normally.

But to have a creature—man or ghost—suddenly placed beside him, only to be told that no accidents would happen? He would bet his entire career as an administrator that this was impossible.

The trouble lay in his current predicament; he hadn't felt anything was wrong at first, so with the time he spent reacting and thinking, he had already been driving for a long time.

Since this monster had the ability to tamper with his consciousness, Zhang Anzai didn't think it lacked the ability to kill him instantly. They were already in the middle of nowhere, and it was exceptionally unsafe to make a move in such a place.

To make matters worse, the creature was sitting so close that he didn't dare to probe recklessly, nor could he spare a hand to use the True-Form Scissors.

The main problem right now is that the situation is unclear.

To say he knew nothing about the guy beside him wasn't entirely true.

Zhang Anzai knew exactly where the name Chen Xing came from; it was the name of the protagonist's possessed childhood friend from the Jinan Ghost Stories he had just heard.

Thinking about it, this ghost must have used that story as a blueprint to implant this memory into him.

Yet, the flaws behind it were countless; for instance, aside from that childhood encounter with a ghost, he couldn't remember a single thing he and this so-called childhood friend had done together.

After driving seriously for a while and finding that Chen Xing had no strange behavior, Zhang Anzai decisively pulled his consciousness back to his main entity, moved his keyboard and mouse, and searched the archives.

"[Ghost Night Road], no intelligence available..." Zhang Anzai knew this wasn't particularly strange; at least half of the dungeons they encountered every day were new, but this was not good news.

His consciousness returned to the dungeon.

Because the road remained empty and straight, Zhang Anzai had developed some muscle memory, and the car was running without any issues.

However, he still couldn't resolve the situation, only constantly racking his brain: Is there any way to break this deadlock?

The atmosphere in the car was now infinitely more oppressive than before. Zhang Anzai didn't dare to act rashly, terrified that his so-called friend might suddenly drop the facade and reveal his true form: Friend, delicious.

Fortunately, Chen Xing was well-behaved, even occasionally picking up a bottle of water to take a sip or checking his phone.

But who drinks water without opening the cap, or checks their phone only to stare at the home screen... Although Zhang Anzai couldn't see his face clearly, he could catch these details out of the corner of his eye.

Seeing these bizarre behaviors, Zhang Anzai became even more certain of the creature's non-human identity.

The speed of the car had unconsciously increased much faster than when he first started, and Zhang Anzai desperately wanted to drive out of this place as quickly as possible.

However, the highway stretched on endlessly, and after driving through this eerie atmosphere for nearly an hour, Zhang Anzai finally spotted a sign for Highway 45 up ahead.

"We're here!?" Zhang Anzai felt that something was clearly wrong, but harboring a sliver of hope mixed with a distinct sense of foreboding, he turned onto Highway 45.

Yet, a moment later, he glanced at the rearview mirror to check behind him.

Just as he had expected, the sides of the road were completely empty.

"The sign... it's gone."