Pang Yang remained tense, afraid to move or even take a breath. He felt the “person’s” head close to him, right at the back of his head under the blanket.
A nauseating, cold, and rotten smell seeped through the stuffy blanket.
Pang Yang’s heart tightened, the prolonged breath-holding making his brain dizzy, and he was covered in sweat.
In the midst of this painful suffocation, the only trace of clarity left in his mind wondered if he would become the first person in the entire gaming base to be suffocated in a dungeon.
Just then, he faintly heard an extremely weak “Pang Yang.”
The “person” whispered his name close to his ear.
Pang Yang thought he was hallucinating.
The “person” seemed to chuckle and then whispered very softly at the edge of the blanket, “Pang Yang, Yinhua Guild.”
Pang Yang: “?”
Pang Yang: “???”
Pang Yang: “............”
Damn!
He almost jumped up in surprise.
He wanted to jump up and ask a question, asking why there were two players on their bus who enjoyed playing tricks on people so much!
One strange Ning Su, speaking in a cold tone, was one thing, especially when there were other players around; he wasn’t as scared or angry then.
But this was too much. Playing dead all night and pulling off such a stunt when they finally emerged—almost scared him to death!
He was angry!!!
Pang Yang used all his restraint not to jump up and explode.
In doing so, both of them would be in danger.
This player might not have discussed the dungeon with anyone, not knowing how to conceal himself.
However, Pang Yang firmly grabbed his wrist, angrily pulled down the blanket, and glared at him fiercely.
This player seemed quite convincing, with a long scar on his face extending from the left corner of his mouth to the right eye corner, looking ferocious and frightening.
He slowly revealed a smile, causing the scar on his face to shift.
The anger on Pang Yang’s face suddenly froze.
He began to sense that something was wrong.
The wrist he was holding onto, after several seconds, still lacked any warmth typical of a human touch; it was ice-cold and bone-chilling.
His hand trembled, index finger pressing against the cold, delicate skin, feeling bone underneath.
Bare, eerie white bones were exposed, seemingly out of nowhere.
The smile on the face in front of him grew larger, as if the scar that stretched across half of his face was about to split open.
That expression seemed to say: “Caught you.”
“I found you, caught you.”
In the dim corner of the lower bunk, Pang Yang clutched the dead wrist, and that arm began to shake violently, uncontrollably.
The tremor spread throughout his body; even the lower eyelid muscles were shaking, and the dilated pupils revealed fear.
His good luck had truly run out.
The other hand of the corpse reached for his neck.
He thought of the first player who died, the two bloody holes in his neck.
He was going to die.
This was the first time Pang Yang faced death so closely, his pupils reflecting the face that was splitting into a smile, his mind blank.
Suddenly, his pupils quivered.
When they stabilized again, the face in his pupils had changed.
That head had been knocked askew.
Pang Yang blinked in confusion, looking at the corpse’s face that had been knocked askew and the skull by the bedside.
Before he could react, a teenager kicked the corpse sitting on his bed, straddled it, and began to beat it.
In a daze, he saw a yellow tooth knocked out from the beaten corpse, becoming even more bewildered.
With such a commotion, many corpses on the bus sat up, their eerie eyes staring in unison.
Pang Yang saw the old “man” walking over from behind, stomping his foot, about to intervene.
Pang Yang’s heart tightened; if the old “man” intervened, he would surely notice Ning Su’s body temperature. Then, it wouldn’t be just him dying; Ning Su, who risked his life to save him, would also be in danger.
He gritted his teeth, abruptly stood up to pounce on the old “person,” but suddenly a pale hand pressed him back, and then that hand pressed the old “person” onto another bed.
The pale hand had faint black veins, and it lingered on the old “person’s” shoulder for some time.
Pang Yang’s heart was in his throat.
There was a high chance the old “person” had sensed the warmth characteristic of humans from Ning Su.
A few seconds later, the old “person” showed no signs of anything unusual and stood up again.
The corpse that had been kicked down also stood up. A cloth was tightly stuffed into his mouth, rendering him voiceless. His hands were bound with a cloth, and he could only angrily wave his legs at Ning Su.
Occasionally, he kicked his legs towards Ning Su, as if conveying to everyone that Ning Su was an anomaly.
Pang Yang: “…?”
Ning Su stepped forward and kicked away the legs pointed haphazardly at him.
The voiceless corpse’s facial fissures widened with anger, and he raised his foot to move forward.
Another skull hit him squarely in the face, making him stagger backward.
Two ghostly children sat on the bed, each holding a skull, aiming at him.
The enraged corpse slapped the bed railing, and his eyes flamed as he charged forward.
The other corpses in the bus also stood up, emitting strange or stuttered sounds from their mouths.
Just as the chaos inside the bus was about to erupt, the vehicle suddenly stopped.
The restless corpses instantly fell silent.
The female driver at the front slowly stood up.
The corpses remained completely silent.
The driver turned around and walked toward this side.
Pang Yang lay on the front bed, catching glimpses of the driver’s figure several times.
She had a mane of soft, seaweed-like long hair, straight shoulders, and a slender and beautiful back.
He knew everyone on the bus was a corpse, but among them were many who appeared just like normal people, seemingly alive.
So, he had once fantasized that this was a beautiful lady driver.
Then, he saw the blood-drenched fresh human eyes in the skull’s eye sockets, the upturned corners of the lips with snake-like fangs, and the hair that swayed menacingly with each step.
Pang Yang: “...”
Almost got kicked out on the spot.
The female driver walked over, bloodshot eyes shifting between the two quarreling passengers, suddenly lifting the corners of her mouth.
Bus 01 stopped, and naturally, the following buses stopped as well.
Bus 02, reacting a bit slowly, came to a stop.
When the bus stops, it meant passengers could get off.
Players immediately followed a few corpses getting off the bus, their gazes all focused on Bus 01.
After a few times, they figured out the pattern of stopping and starting the bus. The first one to stop was the bus with the dead players.
They didn’t know who died this time.
Fang Qi and Zhao Kehan were particularly nervous, staring fixedly at the bus door.
The door opened.
In the night, there was a woman with long curly hair, wearing a white lace dress, holding a scarred corpse standing at the bus door.
She effortlessly tossed the corpse off the bus, clapped her hands, then walked to the driver’s seat, closed the door, and continued driving.
Pang Yang remained tense, afraid to move or even take a breath. He felt the “person’s” head close to him, right at the back of his head under the blanket.
A nauseating, cold, and rotten smell seeped through the stuffy blanket.
Pang Yang’s heart tightened, the prolonged breath-holding making his brain dizzy, and he was covered in sweat.
In the midst of this painful suffocation, the only trace of clarity left in his mind wondered if he would become the first person in the entire gaming base to be suffocated in a dungeon.
Just then, he faintly heard an extremely weak “Pang Yang.”
The “person” whispered his name close to his ear.
Pang Yang thought he was hallucinating.
The “person” seemed to chuckle and then whispered very softly at the edge of the blanket, “Pang Yang, Yinhua Guild.”
Pang Yang: “?”
Pang Yang: “???”
Pang Yang: “............”
Damn!
He almost jumped up in surprise.
He wanted to jump up and ask a question, asking why there were two players on their bus who enjoyed playing tricks on people so much!
One strange Ning Su, speaking in a cold tone, was one thing, especially when there were other players around; he wasn’t as scared or angry then.
But this was too much. Playing dead all night and pulling off such a stunt when they finally emerged—almost scared him to death!
He was angry!!!
Pang Yang used all his restraint not to jump up and explode.
In doing so, both of them would be in danger.
This player might not have discussed the dungeon with anyone, not knowing how to conceal himself.
However, Pang Yang firmly grabbed his wrist, angrily pulled down the blanket, and glared at him fiercely.
This player seemed quite convincing, with a long scar on his face extending from the left corner of his mouth to the right eye corner, looking ferocious and frightening.
He slowly revealed a smile, causing the scar on his face to shift.
The anger on Pang Yang’s face suddenly froze.
He began to sense that something was wrong.
The wrist he was holding onto, after several seconds, still lacked any warmth typical of a human touch; it was ice-cold and bone-chilling.
His hand trembled, index finger pressing against the cold, delicate skin, feeling bone underneath.
Bare, eerie white bones were exposed, seemingly out of nowhere.
The smile on the face in front of him grew larger, as if the scar that stretched across half of his face was about to split open.
That expression seemed to say: “Caught you.”
“I found you, caught you.”
In the dim corner of the lower bunk, Pang Yang clutched the dead wrist, and that arm began to shake violently, uncontrollably.
The tremor spread throughout his body; even the lower eyelid muscles were shaking, and the dilated pupils revealed fear.
His good luck had truly run out.
The other hand of the corpse reached for his neck.
He thought of the first player who died, the two bloody holes in his neck.
He was going to die.
This was the first time Pang Yang faced death so closely, his pupils reflecting the face that was splitting into a smile, his mind blank.
Suddenly, his pupils quivered.
When they stabilized again, the face in his pupils had changed.
That head had been knocked askew.
Pang Yang blinked in confusion, looking at the corpse’s face that had been knocked askew and the skull by the bedside.
Before he could react, a teenager kicked the corpse sitting on his bed, straddled it, and began to beat it.
In a daze, he saw a yellow tooth knocked out from the beaten corpse, becoming even more bewildered.
With such a commotion, many corpses on the bus sat up, their eerie eyes staring in unison.
Pang Yang saw the old “man” walking over from behind, stomping his foot, about to intervene.
Pang Yang’s heart tightened; if the old “man” intervened, he would surely notice Ning Su’s body temperature. Then, it wouldn’t be just him dying; Ning Su, who risked his life to save him, would also be in danger.
He gritted his teeth, abruptly stood up to pounce on the old “person,” but suddenly a pale hand pressed him back, and then that hand pressed the old “person” onto another bed.
The pale hand had faint black veins, and it lingered on the old “person’s” shoulder for some time.
Pang Yang’s heart was in his throat.
There was a high chance the old “person” had sensed the warmth characteristic of humans from Ning Su.
A few seconds later, the old “person” showed no signs of anything unusual and stood up again.
The corpse that had been kicked down also stood up. A cloth was tightly stuffed into his mouth, rendering him voiceless. His hands were bound with a cloth, and he could only angrily wave his legs at Ning Su.
Occasionally, he kicked his legs towards Ning Su, as if conveying to everyone that Ning Su was an anomaly.
Pang Yang: “…?”
Ning Su stepped forward and kicked away the legs pointed haphazardly at him.
The voiceless corpse’s facial fissures widened with anger, and he raised his foot to move forward.
Another skull hit him squarely in the face, making him stagger backward.
Two ghostly children sat on the bed, each holding a skull, aiming at him.
The enraged corpse slapped the bed railing, and his eyes flamed as he charged forward.
The other corpses in the bus also stood up, emitting strange or stuttered sounds from their mouths.
Just as the chaos inside the bus was about to erupt, the vehicle suddenly stopped.
The restless corpses instantly fell silent.
The female driver at the front slowly stood up.
The corpses remained completely silent.
The driver turned around and walked toward this side.
Pang Yang lay on the front bed, catching glimpses of the driver’s figure several times.
She had a mane of soft, seaweed-like long hair, straight shoulders, and a slender and beautiful back.
He knew everyone on the bus was a corpse, but among them were many who appeared just like normal people, seemingly alive.
So, he had once fantasized that this was a beautiful lady driver.
Then, he saw the blood-drenched fresh human eyes in the skull’s eye sockets, the upturned corners of the lips with snake-like fangs, and the hair that swayed menacingly with each step.
Pang Yang: “...”
Almost got kicked out on the spot.
The female driver walked over, bloodshot eyes shifting between the two quarreling passengers, suddenly lifting the corners of her mouth.
Bus 01 stopped, and naturally, the following buses stopped as well.
Bus 02, reacting a bit slowly, came to a stop.
When the bus stops, it meant passengers could get off.
Players immediately followed a few corpses getting off the bus, their gazes all focused on Bus 01.
After a few times, they figured out the pattern of stopping and starting the bus. The first one to stop was the bus with the dead players.
They didn’t know who died this time.
Fang Qi and Zhao Kehan were particularly nervous, staring fixedly at the bus door.
The door opened.
In the night, there was a woman with long curly hair, wearing a white lace dress, holding a scarred corpse standing at the bus door.
She effortlessly tossed the corpse off the bus, clapped her hands, then walked to the driver’s seat, closed the door, and continued driving.
