Entering

As a horror movie fan, Wu Heng knew this film very well.

Aside from the film's continuous series, there were also various animated and novel spin-offs. He had carefully discussed the worldbuilding with fellow forum users, then spent ages arguing over which characters were stronger!

Wu Heng tried to recall the plot of this world: a man from the British Empire named Frank Cotton had obtained a cube-shaped box in Morocco, Africa.

This box was the Lemarchand Configuration, also known as the Box of Mourning. In the eighteenth century, a toymaker had used a great deal of flesh and fat to create a box that could open a passage to Hell.

Driven by his desires, Frank had figured out how to open the Puzzle Box and had been lucky enough to do so.

Then the four Cenobites of the Hell Quartet, summoned in response,

had torn his body apart with iron hooks attached to chains and dragged his soul into Hell.

Next, his brother Larry had moved into the house where Frank had died. Larry's wife, Julia, had once secretly had an affair with her brother-in-law, Frank.

While Larry was moving, he had cut his hand, and his blood had happened to drip where Frank had been torn apart: the attic on the second floor.

The blood had allowed Frank to escape from Hell and return to the human world in the form of a skeleton.

To obtain more blood and restore his original appearance, he had sought out Julia and asked her to feed him with living people. He had later killed his brother and donned his brother's skin.

Later, Kirsty, the female protagonist who had opened the passage to Hell, had traded Frank to the Hell Quartet in exchange for her life, and had also avenged her father.

As Wu Heng was recalling all this, the fat man spoke:

"Ha, the usual basic survival mission."

"But this time, the story mission is seriously terrifying."

"What's this Lemarchand Configuration, some kind of machine part? And they don't even explain it?"

"But Mission Two actually wants us to enter Hell?"

"What kind of place is Hell? It's the demons' lair! I've never heard of anyone daring to mess with Hell in a story world. I bet even the Tower Masters wouldn't dare!"

"And what about Cenobites? Are they powerful monks from a church?"

"Killing one gives you ten thousand survival points, even more than entering Hell. This is completely insane."

The fat man saw the story mission and jumped up in frustration.

He didn't dare touch a mission like that. The three missions might as well have spelled out four big words: "Stay away from us."

"Hey, sis, do you know anything about this story world? Do you know what the Lemarchand Configuration is? Give me a hint, will you?"

The fat man patted his chest nervously, his rolls of fat wobbling, and asked tentatively.

"If I tell you, will you believe me? Be careful—you might die without even knowing how."

The woman looked at him with disdain, knitting her brows as she glared at the fat man.

"Hey, fine, don't tell me!"

"It's all those damn Tower Masters' fault. They keep their walkthroughs to themselves instead of sharing them to help everyone."

"And on top of that, they spread fake information everywhere. They'll say anything that'll get people killed! Now nobody trusts information from outsiders—only their own people."

The fat man gritted his teeth as he complained.

Wu Heng listened quietly to their conversation, confirming one of his suspicions.

They really didn't know the plot of this world.

Right. This world's literature and films were very different from those in his previous life.

Wu Heng felt a brief surge of excitement, only for it to be doused like a bucket of cold water.

In a horror movie world like this,

even knowing what was coming wouldn't help an ordinary person much.

After all, plenty of protagonists died in horror movies. Maybe their plot armor only lasted until the very end.

As for the supporting characters, most were just there to die in the protagonists' place.

The woman watched the fat man grumble and said coolly:

"You can say all that to the Tower Masters' faces when you get back to the Lighthouse. What good does it do to say it here?"

"I'm just venting. But..."

The fat man's bluster vanished in an instant. He looked at the woman, then at Wu Heng.

"I'm not kidding. I have reliable information about this world. Maybe we can learn a trick or two to sense evil."

"You two just have to swear that you'll give me all five hundred survival points from this instance when it's over. Then I'll bring you along. If it weren't for needing to save my refresh attempts for the next instance, I wouldn't be doing this."

After the fat man finished speaking, his face wore an expression that said they were getting a great deal.

"No need. I have my own things to do. Avoiding trouble for a little while is just prolonging the inevitable for a few days."

"Also, newbie, I suggest you enjoy yourself during this month. In a dungeon this difficult, you'll die whether you investigate the plot or return to reality. That's all I have to say. I'm going in."

The Cap-Wearing Woman spoke coolly, then vanished on the spot.

"Pah, 'prolonging the inevitable'!"

The fat man spat a bit of betel nut spit in the direction where she had disappeared, then mimicked her in a mocking tone. Turning to Wu Heng, he said:

"Brother, now it's just the two of us. What do you say? Maybe my information can even fix your injuries."

Wu Heng thought it over, then said, "I agree. But how do I find you in the story world?"

"The code is: SL Fatty v Martial Dominance."

"Remember it. We can find each other through social media, newspaper ads, or whatever."

"Okay, got it."

Wu Heng nodded.

"Time's almost up. I'm going in first. You won't like the way you get transported when the countdown ends."

After the fat man finished speaking, he vanished on the spot too.

Wu Heng watched the remaining minute tick down and selected "Enter Now" in his mind.

As Wu Heng was transported away, the spatial barrier shattered and disappeared.

Darkness split apart, and warm sunlight fell across Wu Heng's face.

Everything around him sprang to life. The sounds of cars, footsteps, and shouting all reached his ears.

Wu Heng opened his eyes. He was sitting in the back of a black stretch limousine.

The soft leather seat and the engine's faint rumble made him feel a little more at ease.

"Sir, what should we do?"

A respectful middle-aged voice came from the driver's seat.

Wu Heng looked up, his brows knitting together.

Five or six Black men stood around the car, clutching clubs and stones and other weapons, blocking it in place.

They were twisting and jumping around, making threatening gestures.

They kept muttering something, but it was hard to hear through the windows.

Wu Heng hadn't had a good impression of these people in his previous life, and now he thought even less of them.

"Drive through them!"

Wu Heng tightened his seat belt and spoke softly.

The instant he opened his eyes, he had already understood his role in this story world.

The Miranda Family, a famous local jewelry business.

And he was the sole heir to the Miranda Family: Dean Miranda.

In short: rich.

They were just a few street thugs. After what he'd been through today, Wu Heng had a pent-up anger inside him.

"Hold on!"

The driver was clearly excited too.

He floored the accelerator, and the car lurched forward, pressing them back into their seats.

The thugs blocking the car yelped and leaped aside like dogs struck by rocks.

As dust billowed behind the car, the gang's shouts and curses filled the air.

A thud sounded as something struck the trunk.