Ch. 8 - An Uneasy Alliance

In the oppressive silence of the dark hallway, Liu Shuang's thoughts spiraled into paranoia.

His mind fixated on Zuo Chengan, the first to deduce the Hunters' methodical killing pattern, the two-person room limit, and other critical details.

He must know more than he's letting on! Liu Shuang's eyes glinted with suspicion.

He's withholding crucial information, probably planning to sacrifice me next!

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped his lips. Fine. If you're plotting against me, don't blame me for turning the tables.

The suffocating tension snapped with successive, deafening bangs.

Two sets of claws tore into the quiet night as the doors to 205 and 204 reverberated under relentless assault.

In 205, the first door to fail, a jagged hole splintered near the bottom.

The bespectacled man inside—teetering on the brink of madness—snatched up a battle-worn axe.

With an unhinged scream, he swung downward at the intruding claws.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

Yet his strikes lacked the power to sever the bone beneath the sinew.

Despite the ferocity of his panic, it became painfully clear he was woefully underpowered.

Hearing the commotion next door, the second Hunter abandoned its attempts on Room 204 and joined its counterpart at 205.

United, the two Hunters intensified their efforts.

The door, weakened and battered, gave way with a gut-wrenching snap, creating a hole large enough for their forms to crawl through.

"No! No! Stay back!" the man shrieked, his voice cracking under the weight of his terror as snot and tears streamed down his face.

Driven by desperation, he flailed his axe in blind fury.

Each swing was an act of defiance, but his hits lacked force, serving more as a delay than a deterrent.

…

Meanwhile, Liu Shuang sat frozen in Room 207, his mind coldly calculating. He counted the seconds with precision, waiting for the perfect moment.

When dawn was only half a minute away, he cracked open his door.

The hallway outside was alive with the grotesque symphony of cracking bones and wet, tearing flesh.

Then came the faintest of moans—pain, despair, and the realization of inevitable death.

Slowly, those sounds faded.

Liu Shuang eased his door open and stepped into the hall.

By now, the two Hunters had ceased their feast and were retreating to wherever the game directed them.

The flicker of their hulking forms in the shadows quickened his pulse, but they didn't spare him a glance. Their single-minded focus on departure saved him.

He turned to the lifeless heap that had once been the bespectacled man.

Blood and gore painted the floor in abstract streaks.

With deliberate speed, Liu Shuang knelt and pried the glasses from the corpse's broken face, slipping them into his inventory.

The thought of leaving such a valuable item behind never crossed his mind.

As he straightened, he let out a shuddering breath. His heart thundered, but he allowed himself the luxury of a smile.

…

[Daybreak has arrived. The Hunters have departed.]

The game's announcement echoed coldly through the eerie stillness of the aftermath.

Creak…

The survivors emerged from their rooms, their faces pale and tense.

Though they had braced themselves for whatever horrors the night might bring, the sight of 205's carnage robbed them of breath.

The scene was ghastly.

The bespectacled man's remains were scattered—half of his body sprawled inside the room, the other half strewn in the hallway. 

His clothing and skin had been stripped away in jagged patches, revealing a grim mosaic of bloodied flesh and exposed bone.

At a glance, it was impossible to discern what parts of him were missing entirely.

Zuo Chengan crouched and sifted through the wreckage with detached efficiency. His sharp eyes found what might have once been a fragment of the man's skull, though it was too mangled to say for certain.

One thing was clear: the glasses were gone. He glanced briefly at Liu Shuang, the first to arrive on the scene, but said nothing.

It didn't take long for the others to notice something amiss.

"The night-vision glasses are missing!"

"They're not in the room. Could the Hunters have eaten them?"

"Maybe the game automatically reclaimed the item when he died?"

"That's possible. His whole head's practically gone—it's like a misshapen remnant of a violently torn apple. The glasses probably got chewed up with it."

…

Under Liu Shuang's subtle misdirection, the group hesitantly accepted the theory that the Hunters had consumed the spectacles along with their victim.

Breaking the uneasy silence, a man from 206 turned to Liu Shuang, his expression grim.

"If there are two Hunters again tonight, it'll be me and you on the chopping block. What do you say—shall we team up?"

Liu Shuang's eyes gleamed. "Absolutely! I've already shared the details about my item. Now it's your turn. What's your item? If you'd rather not share in public, we can discuss it privately in my room."

"No need for that," the man said, shaking his head. "My name's Zhao Chengyuan. My item is Long-Handled Mirror, green-tier. It reveals things that are normally invisible to the naked eye."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"A spectral-revealing tool!" someone murmured.

Though the exact utility of such an item was unclear, anything tied to the supernatural—and of green-tier quality no less—was undeniably rare and valuable in the game.

Zhao Chengyuan's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Not that it matters in this instance. This isn't a ghost-themed dungeon, so what's the point of having it?"

Although Zhao Chengyuan had offered his full cooperation, Liu Shuang's face betrayed his dissatisfaction. The mirror, while intriguing, lacked any combat application. It was utterly useless to him.

Turning away in frustration, Liu Shuang addressed the others, his voice sharp and commanding.

"What are you all waiting for? Do you think you can just stand aside and avoid this?

"If there are two Hunters tonight, there could be three tomorrow! When all the room doors are broken down, no one will be safe!"

It was a transparent attempt to rally the group out of self-interest, but the logic wasn't entirely flawed.

After days of surviving together, the six remaining players had at least some semblance of camaraderie—enough for the idea to take root.

Even Zheng Ren, still recovering from injuries, nodded thoughtfully. "He might be right. We're meant to survive for seven days. If the Hunters escalate every three days, we may face three of them by the end."

But Zuo Chengan shook his head.

"Not necessarily," he countered. "If we hadn't killed that first Hunter, we might have faced three by the seventh night. But now that we've eliminated one, there are probably only two left—the same ones from last night."

Zheng Ren's eyes widened in sudden realization. "The carvings… the three monsters. They represent the Hunters!"

"Exactly," Zuo Chengan affirmed. "There are three carved monster motifs—one for each Hunter. This is a Stage 1 dungeon. It won't be overly complex. The game is practically handing us clues."

The group's tension eased slightly. Knowing only two Hunters were remaining was a small relief. But the reprieve was fleeting.

As the daylight minutes dwindled, no one had yet devised a foolproof strategy for dealing with the Hunters.

Anxiety mounted, particularly for Liu Shuang, who knew he was one of the next targets.

With most rooms already occupied, and the intact doors of 202 and 208 taken, his options were grim. The only path left was confrontation.

"Are you all just going to let me die?" Liu Shuang snapped, his voice rising with desperation. "Do you really think you'll gain anything from watching me get ripped apart? If we don't work together, we're all doomed! Cooperation is the only way!"

He turned his plea directly to the woman from 208, who flinched under his intense gaze.

Rubbing the hem of her apron nervously, she finally spoke up.

"I'm He Jinmei," she began quietly. "I… don't know much about these 'items' you all keep talking about. If you mean what I got from the starter pack, it's a skill book for Basic Archery Techniques. I've already used it."

To demonstrate, she pulled a key from her pocket and, with uncanny precision, threw it across the room. It struck the monster carving on the windowsill dead-center in the brow.

"Since I used the book, I've felt more in control of my muscles. Wherever I aim, I can hit."

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