The game begins

Jiang Mingran trembled all over, cold sweat soaking his back.

He had never seen a corpse before, much less watched a living person turn into one right before his eyes!

The old man's body was dragged into the kitchen. The red embroidered shoes returned to the living room and carried a radio into the kitchen.

After a burst of crackling static, music came from the radio. A medley of eighties hits echoed through the old room, sounding unnervingly strange.

Jiang Mingran shook all over, his face pale as he murmured, "P-Pancake Uncle..."

Shao Lan glanced at him, his eyes asking, "You knew him?"

Jiang Mingran's lips trembled. "He sold egg-stuffed pancakes on the snack street behind our school. We all called him Pancake Uncle..."

Jiang Mingran's eyes reddened a little.

Pancake Uncle had trouble with his legs, but he was good at his craft and kindhearted. Jiang Mingran had bought an egg-stuffed pancake from him just last week.

And now, in the blink of an eye, he had become a corpse.

Shao Lan glanced toward the kitchen. The radio blared, mixed with the sound of a cleaver chopping through bone.

"Now." Shao Lan pointed toward the security door and gestured to Jiang Mingran. "Let's get out first."

Jiang Mingran rubbed his face hard.

Pancake Uncle was already dead. All they could do now was get out of here and bring the police back as soon as possible.

Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran took off their shoes and hurried toward the security door on quiet feet.

The music played behind them. On the old radio, a woman sang mournfully of the pain love had brought her.

Jiang Mingran shoved the security door open. Its old metal parts gave a teeth-grating clack. He rushed outside, only to trip hard over something.

It was a garbage bag. Heaps of trash were piled outside the door, filled with food that had rotted into slop. Leaking liquid had left the entire floor wet and slippery.

About to fall, Jiang Mingran hastily braced a hand against the wall beside him and barely steadied himself.

But his kick had also sent the garbage bag that tripped him into the wall. Several glass jars of rotten canned mandarin oranges inside it clattered loudly together.

Clang, clatter!

The chopping in the kitchen stopped abruptly. Then the radio was switched off.

The woman had heard them!

Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran exchanged a glance. Neither dared linger. They ran forward as fast as they could.

They sprinted down the corridor and reached the stairs in moments.

Jiang Mingran ran ahead of Shao Lan. They rushed down the stairs one after the other, and Jiang Mingran looked back as he ran, whispering with a trace of relief, "Man, she didn't follow..."

Those were the last words Shao Lan heard Jiang Mingran say in the stairwell.

Or rather, the last half of a sentence.

Jiang Mingran had probably meant to say, "She didn't follow us," but he never finished.

Because halfway through those words, Jiang Mingran suddenly disappeared.

Only Shao Lan remained in the pitch-black stairwell.

It happened so quickly that by the time the question Why did Jiang Mingran suddenly disappear? formed in Shao Lan's mind, his momentum had already carried him to the spot where Jiang Mingran had just vanished.

In that instant, everything seemed to disappear.

The stairs beneath his feet disappeared.

The walls around him disappeared.

Even the air seemed to disappear.

It was as though he had drifted into pure darkness. There was nothing here. He could not move forward, could not move back, could not breathe.

Am I going to die here?

Or...

Am I already dead?

"Tick, tock."

Shao Lan opened his eyes on the sofa, his head aching.

He seemed to have just had a dream, one in which he had woken up in a murderer's home and gone through a series of utterly bizarre experiences.

Shao Lan closed his eyes briefly and reached down to feel the sofa beneath him.

The next instant, his body went rigid.

Smooth leather. A faint, indescribable odor.

He looked around the living room.

An obviously old house, clutter piled haphazardly everywhere, an old-fashioned landline phone, an enamel mug.

It had not been a dream.

Everything that had just happened had been real!

Shao Lan closed his eyes briefly and bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. The taste of blood instantly spread through his mouth, and the pain sent a shudder through him.

Much as he hated to accept it, he had entered a loop. Now he was back in the living room of this murderer's home.

The little mourning altar still stood directly opposite the sofa. An oval fish tank occupied the spot where the deceased's portrait should have been.

In the dim light, he could see three little red goldfish swimming inside.

Wait...

Three?

Shao Lan closed his eyes, feeling his headache worsen.

He distinctly remembered seeing four little red goldfish in the tank last time.

Suddenly, a click came from his left.

Shao Lan whipped his head around.

It was still exactly four in the morning. The owl sprang out of the old mantel clock and called mechanically:

"The game begins! The game begins!"

At the same time, a click came from the security door nearby.

There was no other choice.

Shao Lan rolled off the sofa again and hid in the gap between it and the floor.

The moment he lay down, Shao Lan keenly noticed that there were more scratches on the floor.

Before, there had only been the word "Rules." Now there was an entire line.

"Rules: those who have not ventured deep into the fog cannot leave it."

Footsteps sounded, neither heavy nor light. Shao Lan drew himself back and held his breath.

Through the gap beneath the sofa, he watched a pair of old-fashioned red embroidered shoes slowly cross the living room, just as before.

Then the kitchen light came on. Pots and dishes rattled, and the refrigerator door opened.

Once again, Shao Lan saw that black human head, covered in frost.

The kitchen door closed, and the thudding of meat being chopped began.

In the living room, where only the rain could otherwise be heard, Shao Lan heard his own rapid breathing.

He hesitated for only the briefest instant before getting up and rushing toward the nearest bedroom.

He yanked the door open. Jiang Mingran stood behind it, staring wide-eyed at Shao Lan, who had suddenly appeared before him.

This time, however, Jiang Mingran did not hold up his student ID to prove who he was. Instead, his mouth hung open, his lips trembling slightly, as though he wanted to say something but did not dare. He looked at Shao Lan with utter terror in his eyes.

Their eyes met. A few seconds later, Shao Lan confirmed one thing.

"Jiang Mingran?" he mouthed.

As though the fear in his heart had turned into a boulder and come crashing down, Jiang Mingran's shoulders sagged, and he nodded firmly.

Neither needed to say another word. They both understood that the other, like himself, remembered everything that had just happened.

Shao Lan closed his eyes briefly. His last shred of wishful hope shattered completely.

Before, he had refused to believe the far-fetched suspicions in his own mind.

Now, he knew he had reached the point where he had no choice but to believe.

"This really is a game." Shao Lan looked at Jiang Mingran. "Either we find a way to beat it..."

"Or... we'll die here."