The Meaning of the Flaying Labyrinth? Can We Get Some Normal Dungeons Already?

Zhang Anzai felt that if he were playing a tabletop RPG, a notification would have just popped up telling him he'd lost Sanity.

This inner chamber wasn't as large as the costume and prop room from before; it resembled a small cold storage unit. Shelves were arranged on all four sides, stacked with a few boxes, but there were no blind spots—one could take it all in at a glance.

High up on the back wall was a thick window. A sliver of moonlight spilled into the room, merging with the beam of his flashlight to illuminate the red liquid flowing toward his feet.

"This amount of blood..." Zhang Anzai used such abnormal factors to soothe himself.

The massive puddle in this room was enough to drain a person dry; that was all it amounted to. Even after he'd opened the door, it was still continuously flowing out.

He walked around the pool of blood and, sure enough, a giant blood bag on the shelf had leaked.

Zhang Anzai examined the tear carefully: "Are there rats here?"

There was no one in the silent inner chamber to answer him.

However, if one listened closely, one could indeed hear faint, abnormal rustling sounds, like cardboard boxes shifting—likely just vermin or insects.

Zhang Anzai helplessly opened his phone and glanced at the item list in his inventory: "The insecticide and rat poison should be in this storeroom too..."

Zhang Anzai searched the nearby shelves, which were filled with rouge, powders, and pigments, and finally found the rat poison in a corner.

After sprinkling a few pellets into the corner, Zhang Anzai turned and walked out of the inner chamber.

The factory floor seemed as quiet as ever. Zhang Anzai scanned his surroundings as he walked to the corner, finding a mop and bucket by the washbasin in the restroom.

Checking the information on his phone beforehand had been a truly correct decision; this identity of his was well-established, and there were plenty of student notes in the memo app.

"Water-soluble blood bag... clean with paper towels or rinse with water." Zhang Anzai carried the bucket and mop back to the inner chamber with a sense of resignation, wiped away the spilled blood, and took the leaking bag to the trash.

Returning to the restroom sink with the bucket and mop, Zhang Anzai rinsed them while thinking helplessly: "This is even worse than being a security guard, man... why do I have to do janitorial work too?"

What Zhang Anzai didn't seem to know was that, inside the inner chamber he had just left, a small figure had slipped in without a sound.

The storeroom remained deathly quiet and slightly chilly.

If one listened very carefully, one could only hear a faint, elusive rustling that made one wonder if it was just an auditory hallucination.

It sounded as if something had brushed against a cardboard box, as if sharp teeth had easily bitten through something.

The sound was extremely subtle, but the blood dripping onto the floor and the faint, rhythmic breathing were not fake.

While Zhang Anzai lowered his head to rinse the mop, he stared blankly at the screen on his main body's side.

"Damn it..." Zhang Anzai cursed involuntarily.

His employee points had dropped by 100 because he had purchased an item.

[Human-Proxy Void Eye] (Allows you to take over surveillance, security cameras, or other recording equipment within the dungeon, and stream the footage to your computer screen for 5 minutes).

It cost 100 employee points, but the effect was truly impressive. By taking over the surveillance in the storeroom, Zhang Anzai saw what had happened in the room after he left.

That old, long-haired golden retriever raised by Mr. Li had emerged from between the shelves on the main factory floor the moment he left.

For some reason, the old dog's gait looked incredibly awkward, as if it weren't accustomed to walking on four legs.

However, despite the strange movements, the dog's actions were not slow at all—there was no trace of an old dog left. It headed decisively toward a corner of the storeroom.

Silently, it swallowed the rat in the corner of the room in one gulp, chewed twice, and swallowed. Then, as if savoring the taste, it licked the blood off the floor clean and quickly left the storeroom.

But none of that was the real problem. The problem was that the old dog had completely changed its appearance.

Its muzzle was much shorter, the fur on its entire head had vanished, and in its place was sparse, short, and messy black hair at the back of its skull.

Its eyes were vacant and eerily elongated; no matter how one looked at it, something was wrong.

To put it bluntly, its dog head had suddenly transformed into a human head with the skeletal structure of a dog.

The skin was deathly pale. In areas where human and canine structures differed—like the muzzle or between the eyes—the skin was stretched thin and taut, while in other places, folds of skin hung down in bunches.

Two human eyes had been forcibly pulled to the sides of the head to match the dog's structure. The pupils darted about with sharp, alert movements, observing the surroundings, yet they looked completely devoid of spirit.

"What kind of monster is this?"

Zhang Anzai fought back the urge to vomit into the sink.

Honestly, the concept of "skin-swapping" wasn't uncommon in folklore.

Not to mention the well-known "Painted Skin" ghosts, there were legends in some places about mountain cat-monkeys or weasels donning human skin to sneak into villages and buy goods.

Countless demons and monsters, unable to cultivate a human form, would simply use human skin as a substitute. That was to say nothing of the heinous and notorious practice of "human-animal grafting" and the evil arts of "beast-creation."

Come to think of it, the Mountain Peddler from back then had been a child-snatcher, and besides kidnapping children for sale, many of them engaged in the beastly practice of human-animal grafting.

Zhang Anzai hadn't expected that even after encountering such ghostly things, he would see this today: "Although this monster looks like a beast wearing human skin..."

He recalled the name of the dungeon: Flaying Labyrinth.

Then, surely, the truth behind this dungeon had everything to do with this skin.

Zhang Anzai switched his primary consciousness back to the dungeon and shook his head helplessly.

"This dungeon doesn't seem right either... counting the previous two, that's three abnormal dungeons in a row."

Zhang Anzai's luck was truly something else. Even though his skill level far exceeded most newcomers, he kept running into these high-difficulty, broken dungeons.

"It makes no sense..." Zhang Anzai felt quite helpless. Aside from having a sharp mind and being a bit handsome, he didn't do anything to invite hatred, yet the game system kept targeting him.

After washing the mop and bucket, Zhang Anzai picked up his bronze sword, preparing to continue his patrol: "It doesn't matter; at least I discovered the problem early and can be somewhat prepared."

He swept his flashlight across the factory floor, but the massive space, cluttered with countless chaotic props, remained deathly quiet; there was simply no telling where that eerie Human-Skin Dog was hiding.

To avoid alerting the enemy, Zhang Anzai only took a cursory glance before silently turning back to properly continue his patrol.

He did not know that his every state was being captured in full view by the miniature surveillance cameras hidden throughout the factory.

"How does it feel?" Mr. Li took off his heavy rubber gloves, a smile hanging on his face as he wiped the blood from his chin.

The eerie Human-Skin Dog crouched beside him and the workbench, its fur soaking carelessly in the blood pooling on the floor, staring straight at the countless screens on the wall.

"Woof, he... is very cautious, and... woof! Very calm."