"There's still one more breakfast!" Eric shouted desperately.
Mr. Chen halted his movements, sneering maliciously, "Don't try to fool me. If you soil my breakfast, you must compensate!"
"I'm heading to the kitchen to get it!"
Perhaps constrained by the dungeon's rules, Mr. Chen reluctantly released Eric.
Dashing to the kitchen, Eric brought out another plate of noodles.
Upon seeing the fried noodles neatly arranged on the pristine plate, his face twisted with dissatisfaction. He crouched down, lifting the plate to inspect its underside, attempting to find a speck of dirt, but to no avail.
His appearance was terrifying, less like a man and more like a predatory beast searching for prey.
Fortunately, Eric held the plate steadily, unmoving despite Mr. Chen's piercing gaze as if trying to penetrate the dish.
"Place it on the table," Mr. Chen ordered, resuming his seat with undiminished malice in his eyes.
Eric grasped the immaculate breakfast firmly, refusing to set it on the table. Instead, she extended it directly toward Mr. Chen, signaling him to accept it.
"If you don't listen to me, I'll report you!"
"Mr. Chen, I deliver breakfast per company orders and according to your requests. This breakfast is clean and smells delicious. Please eat it while it is still warm; don't delay."
Holding the plate was no hardship for Eric.
Mr. Chen glared sullenly but did not take it.
If he wouldn't receive it, Eric would continue holding it, determined not to let the plate touch any dirt before he accepted it.
The room's temperature dropped steadily; the garbage inside trembled slightly. Bang! Bang! Bang! The kitchen cabinet doors opened and closed repeatedly. Eric distractedly pondered: Was it the dish cabinet or... the freezer?
What was inside the freezer?
Recalling the finger that had fallen from the glass door, Eric suspected something sinister lurked within the freezer.
She was undaunted by Mr. Chen's intimidation, knowing this was a dungeon with rules and that he could not harm her recklessly.
Sure enough, after more than an hour of stalemate, Mr. Chen reluctantly took the plate, casting a venomous glare as he grabbed noodles with his hand, stuffing them into his mouth in great mouthfuls.
It seemed less like eating food and more like consuming her.
Eric withdrew her hand politely, bowing her head toward the floor.
The filth on the ground... looked more and more like congealed, darkened blood.
Mr. Chen swallowed the now-cold noodles in a few bites, tossing the plate carelessly onto the table.
"Leave!" he snarled, heading back to his bedroom.
"Mr. Chen, may I ask if the breakfast was to your satisfaction?" Eric hurriedly produced the task card.
Mr. Chen, deeply hostile toward Eric, snatched the card, pressed a random button, and flung it back at her. "Just go!"
Running swiftly to the community gate, Eric paused to catch her breath. Her arm throbbed faintly. Rolling up her sleeve, she saw the spot Mr. Chen had grabbed was turning black. Touching the skin, it was chilling to the bone.
She knew this injury was inflicted by a supernatural entity and could only be healed with a paranormal treatment kit, but Eric was unwilling to use such resources for a mere scratch.
"Let it accumulate," she resolved, "deal with it later."
On the way back to the company, Eric continuously reviewed the recent task in her mind.
She pondered with a heavy heart: without her golden finger, this seemingly trivial breakfast delivery would have been a death sentence!
And this was just a simple delivery task!
That night, yet another player vanished. The missing individual was said to have gone to a mall to help the CEO buy a birthday gift for his wife, but had not returned since the afternoon.
"One per day, the mortality rate isn't too high."
"The day isn't over! Who still hasn't done their task?"
Four players answered in turn. Two had tasks scheduled at midnight. Remembering Zhou Si's death last night in the restroom, their faces fell grimly.
"Since there's still time, let's continue exchanging dungeon intel. Players with ideas may stay."
That night, all players remained. The four who had yet to undertake their tasks were also permitted to stay and listen, planning to fill them in after completing their missions.
Each shared their experiences, and soon it was Catherine's turn.
Eric pricked up her ears, listening intently to Catherine's account. She found Catherine's composed and poised demeanor profoundly captivating, reminiscent of Jessica, an experienced player she had crossed paths with before—both embodying the grace and steadiness she aspired to emulate.
"…My task this morning was to visit a ailing colleague in the dormitory building…" Catherine recounted her morning assignment in a calm, measured tone.
Catherine surmised that a visit to the sick would require gifts; thus, she had purchased breakfast, fruit, and a bouquet. The infirm NPC lay immobilized in bed, demanding Catherine feed her. The danger arose during the feeding; amid the process, Catherine was ensnared by spectral illusions. Though the breakfast she brought was simple—soy milk, steamed buns, and boiled eggs—the hallucination presented sumptuous dishes: braised pig's trotters, boiled fish, fried chicken wings, and tofu pudding.
The sick NPC insisted on these specific foods, none of which Catherine had brought. Instinctively sensing something was amiss, Catherine attempted to dissuade the NPC, citing her condition as a reason. In response, the NPC erupted into fury, threatening to report Catherine for failing to satisfy her, but Catherine remained unmoved.
Realizing the illusion, Catherine recalled her actual offerings and emerged from the mirage.
"What happens if she's fed those pig trotters and such?" Janet inquired anxiously.
"Given the nature of this game, it's highly likely the food corresponds to parts of the player's own body," Scott explained grimly.
Catherine murmured assent and summarized, "This task isn't inherently difficult. One must simply avoid being led by the NPC's whims and proceed cautiously with careful analysis to succeed."
When it came to Eric's turn, she eagerly absorbed Catherine's insights, intending to review them further later. She then recounted her own experience without revealing the secret of the supermarket. She attributed her success to luck, highlighting that she happened to carry a bottle of mineral water, persevered in scrubbing a plate clean, and even prepared a control plate stained with her own blood.
"The plate washed with blood was useless. He grabbed me, threatening to use me as a substitute for the breakfast. Without that bottle of water, my task would have been doomed—he'd have eaten me."
"Gosh, why are the ghosts in this dungeon so ruthless, preying on people like that?" one player exclaimed.
"Humans and ghosts walk divergent paths; it's only natural they seek to consume us," another replied.
The discussion about Eric's dungeon proved thought-provoking, but no one could devise an effective strategy for the predicament.
Being trapped in Mr. Chen's house without access to water rendered cleaning impossible; what was the solution?
"Catherine, do you have any ideas?" Eric could not help but ask.
Catherine glanced at her with her customary aloofness. Just as Eric presumed she wouldn't answer, Catherine spoke: "Based on the task information you provided, if it were me, I'd immediately order takeout, pay extra for rush service, and request a clean set of tableware be delivered from the nearest supermarket in the neighborhood—provided I could stall the NPC for at least twenty minutes."
Catherine's suggestion was a revelation to Eric. She quickly recalled having spent roughly half an hour in Mr. Chen's house; during her time scrubbing dishes in the kitchen, Mr. Chen had indeed refrained from disturbing her—after initially appearing at the kitchen doorway, he never returned.
Upon reflection, Catherine's approach seemed entirely feasible.
Perhaps the period Eric spent in the kitchen was the dungeon's allotted "safe" time. Within this window, players must prepare pristine plates and chopsticks for Mr. Chen to dine upon, while he waits in the living room for his "breakfast."
"But didn't Eric say Mr. Chen sat in the living room? Even if the takeout arrived, wouldn't it be difficult to retrieve it? Do you really think Mr. Chen would let the player open the door? Since this is a communication session, aren't you holding back and being too stingy?" one player challenged.
Thoughtfully, most players nodded in agreement. One player, recalling an earlier confrontation with Catherine, felt uneasy seeing her proposal embraced by others. He suspected she was withholding crucial information, convinced her method bore flaws.
Eric replied, "Catherine proposed a possible strategy. Must she hold your hand through every unforeseen complication?"
"Exactly, Catherine gives an idea, but execution requires improvisation."
"You're being a bit harsh; we're just sharing insights…"
Flushed with embarrassment, the player abruptly stood and left. With only one player yet to speak, his absence was inconsequential.
Catherine remained unruffled, neither angered by criticism nor gratified by Eric and others' defense.
"All right, I'm the last. Let me speak," Justin said.
The exchange proved fruitful for all. Catherine's words had illuminated a new line of thought for Eric, who resolved to think deeply and grow.
Soon thereafter, the remaining four players yet to complete their tasks embarked upon them. As midnight approached, the final two players, hearts heavy with trepidation, commenced their missions. The players still awake awaited their return—but none reappeared.
"All players undertaking midnight tasks today have perished," Scott announced with a pallid face.
"Three have died in total, the mortality rate surging."
"Yesterday, only one player had a midnight task; now there are two, and both are dead. The mortality rate for midnight tasks has reached an alarming one hundred percent."
"Let us analyze tonight's two midnight tasks," a player proposed.
"How can we analyze them? We have but a single line about each; nobody knows what transpired!"
"Then let's arrange a night watch schedule. It's already past midnight, the third day, and we don't know when the next task cards will be issued. We must ensure we receive them immediately when distributed," Justin suggested.
After drawing lots, Eric was assigned watch duty on the fourth day—from three to four a.m. tomorrow.
Lying down, Eric tossed and turned before falling asleep, her heart pounding anxiously.
At six in the morning, the on-duty player roused Eric.
"The task cards have appeared!"
She opened her bleary eyes and glanced toward the freshly drawn task card from the desktop.
The moment she registered the time, all traces of drowsiness vanished.
"Midnight, twelve o'clock: meet Client Miss Wang at the underground parking lot."