As soon as Cao Qun finished speaking, the last faint traces of daylight inside the carriage completely vanished.
The curtains blocked the only window that offered a view outside, keeping the rainy night at bay. In that instant, the mechanical sound of the train moving forward was amplified by the darkness, while the sounds of breathing and slight movements remained clear.
The noises were chaotic.
Yan Wei instinctively clenched his fist, his fingertips pressing hard into his palm.
—Was that the sound of four people?
This thought flashed through his mind for a moment. The yellowed lightbulb above the sliding door flickered and then steadied, illuminating the four people in the sleeper compartment.
Yan Wei’s tense breathing relaxed.
The sliding door was tightly shut. Cao Qun stood in front of it, his brows furrowed as he said hesitantly, “If Zhao Jingchen doesn’t die tonight, I’ll have one more enemy tomorrow.”
Lin Qing lifted her eyelids, her cold gaze piercing as she said, “If you don’t drag him down tonight, you’ll still have one more enemy tomorrow.”
Cao Qun’s eyes flickered, and he couldn’t help but glance at the number “1109” above the upper bunk to his right, knowing he was in the wrong. He asked, “Where will I sleep in a few hours when the train lights go out?”
Yan Wei stood up and pointed to the bunk behind him. “This one.”
His eyes were shaped like gently unfurled peach blossom petals, the slight wave at the corners softening his entire face. Even now, with his eyes slightly lowered, there wasn’t much coldness in them. But his calm voice carried a hint of disdain, colder than the temperature of the train.
He didn’t say anything more, didn’t even glance at Cao Qun. He stood up, bent down to take off his shoes, placed them under the ladder, and swiftly climbed up to the upper bunk.
Yan Mingguang glanced at Cao Qun, then also stood up and vacated the bunk, climbing up to the upper bunk where Yan Wei was.
Yan Wei muttered, “It’s a bit cramped.”
A calm voice replied, “Your face is a bit cold.”
The narrow upper bunk was crowded with two people. Lin Qing, as if accustomed to it, didn’t even shift her gaze. She leaned on the table, organizing the information they had gathered about the train. The rustling of paper continued for a while before she finally turned to Cao Qun and said impatiently, “What are you still standing there for?”
Cao Qun sat down on the now-empty lower bunk. He thought about how he had, for a moment, felt like Yan Wei was the one calling the shots. He said coolly, “This isn’t your first time on the eighty-ninth floor. You’re being unusually agreeable this time.”
Lin Qing paused.
“I’m not really in the mood to talk to you.”
Cao Qun was silenced and didn’t speak again.
The train continued moving forward in the rain. Today’s rain was heavier than yesterday’s, and it showed no signs of stopping. Judging by the temperature, they were in the transition period from spring to summer, with a bone-chilling cold still lingering.
Yan Wei and Yan Mingguang leaned against each other, nearly curled up in each other’s arms. Yan Wei took advantage of the calm before the storm, before the train lights went out, to close his eyes and rest, trying to gather some energy.
This instance required careful steps at every turn. They needed to make progress during the day, but the night was the most dangerous time, requiring constant vigilance. This transition period between day and night was the only time they could afford to relax a little.
The refreshing scent of soap from the person beside him covered the unpleasant smell of rust, creating a sense of comfort and tranquility.
Yan Wei had a lot on his mind and couldn’t clear his thoughts as quickly as Yu Feizhou could. He closed his eyes for a while but kept recalling fragments of his first Ascension with Yan Mingguang. They weren’t important memories, just insignificant moments.
Even in the final instance, Yan Mingguang had stayed with him until the very end.
All along, what they had done was what Yan Wei wanted to do.
Last time, it was to fulfill his utopian dream of saving everyone. Yan Mingguang, though outwardly cold, had a kind heart, so it could be said that it was something he also wanted to do. This time, Yan Wei wanted to do it again for the people around him and for his original goal. But entering the eighty-ninth floor was purely for his own selfish reasons, and asking Yan Mingguang to bring Lin Zhen and Yu Feizhou along was also selfish. Yet Yan Mingguang had no complaints.
The final instance of Ascension was a near-certain death.
The idea that reaching the top would allow them to leave the Tower had always been a false hope. Because as long as one kept earning the Best Player bonus and continuously raised the building to the top, success would almost always grant them 100,000 Points.
Reaching the top allowed one to leave the Tower World directly or exchange 100,000 Points for Pandora’s Box, which could grant a wish—this was the legend that had been circulating within the Tower.
But there was a glaring paradox in this.
If reaching the top allowed one to exchange for Pandora’s Box and make a wish, why wouldn’t those who reached the top use it to wish for everyone to leave together, instead of just leaving themselves?
The Tower had existed for so long, so long that Yan Wei had never heard of when the first people entered. If he could reach the top, then surely others before him must have as well.
—He had learned the reason for this during his last Ascension.
Because the Tower would do everything in its power to keep those who reached the top trapped in the final instance. Everyone who had ascended last time had died, and only Yan Wei and Yan Mingguang knew this clearly. The safest way to survive was to keep oscillating between the eighties and nineties floors, living a meaningless but prolonged life.
This time, Yan Mingguang, fully aware of the dangers and the alternative path to survival, still chose to go all-in with him.
Yan Wei closed his eyes and whispered, “Yan Mingguang.”
“Yes?”
“What do you want to do?”
“Why do you ask?”
“After we get out,” Yan Wei emphasized the word “out,” “what do you want to do? Before we get out, we’ve been doing what I wanted to do. After we get out, I want to do what you want to do.”
There was a moment of silence.
Yan Wei opened his eyes. In front of him was the other upper bunk. The bunk that should have been Yan Mingguang’s was empty, the bedding neatly arranged. He was leaning against Yan Mingguang, lying on his side, unable to see Yan Mingguang’s expression. Yan Mingguang must have been thinking.
After a while, Yan Mingguang said softly, “I’ve always been a person without a goal.”
Yan Wei was taken aback. “Huh?”
“You are my goal.”
Yan Wei’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. He opened his mouth, but only a faint sound escaped his lips before he closed it again. He didn’t say anything more.
He closed his eyes, his mind now clear, free of distractions.
In front of the instance projection.
Yu Feizhou sighed. “That dirty thing is still in their room.”
Lin Zhen chuckled. “Maybe it’s scared of them and doesn’t dare come out.”
“Not likely,” Yu Feizhou said seriously, even though he knew Lin Zhen was joking to lighten the mood. “Yan Mingguang and your brother’s strength isn’t something to worry about. What I’m worried about is that the dirty thing is lying in wait. Yan Wei is human, and in such a high-pressure, high-difficulty instance, he’s been in a constant state of high tension since entering. If he relaxes even a little, it’ll leave an opening. That’s when the thing will strike…”
Lin Zhen leaned back leisurely, unconcerned. “At most, it’ll be a sneak attack. My brother treats Yan Wei almost like a god. If anything happens, he’ll definitely step in to protect him. Look, if Yan Wei’s in trouble, Yan Mingguang will definitely act, and my brother will definitely take the hit himself. If he dies taking the hit, I can step in for him. Worst case, I’ll die, but the three of them will be fine.”
Yu Feizhou looked at him, his lips parting and closing several times.
Finally.
He said, “Not necessarily.”
“Lin Qing is also in this eighty-ninth floor instance. The ultimate goal of this instance is for us to get the invitation letter.”
Yan Wei had a dream.
He had a heavy mind, so dreaming was a common occurrence for him. Only occasionally, when lying next to Yan Mingguang, would he have a dreamless night.
This dream was unusually clear, and he knew it was a dream.
In the dream, he was looking at the interface for Pandora’s Box, about to make the exchange. Yan Mingguang was beside him, grabbing his hand to stop him.
The man’s usually steady voice carried a hint of emotion. “Why not give up?”
Yan Wei was stunned.
The dream version of Yan Mingguang continued, “Even if you take your abilities with you, you’ll still have to face the ordinary life and death of a normal person. Why not stay here? When we reach the ninety-ninth floor, we can lower the building back to the eighty-ninth floor and live forever.”
Yan Mingguang would never say something like that.
The man was always calm and composed, his dark eyes as sharp and resolute as a blade.
Yan Wei knew clearly that this was probably the thing born from the Tower trying to influence his will. He remembered that during their last Ascension, Yan Mingguang had always supported him. There was no way he would say something so cowardly.
Even though he knew it was fake, he still said, “If you want me to stay, I might… really be willing to stay.”
“Yan Mingguang” showed a hint of joy. “Then let’s go! Let’s leave the top floor now, we…”
Yan Wei’s vision suddenly blurred, and “Yan Mingguang’s” voice faded away. The mechanical sounds of the train and the rain mixed together and rolled into his ears.
He slowly opened his eyes. Everything was pitch black, and his body was cold except for the part leaning against Yan Mingguang.
“You fell asleep for a while,” Yan Mingguang whispered in his ear. “When the lights went out, I woke you up.”
“I had a dream,” Yan Wei said.
Normal dreams didn’t need to be mentioned like this. Yan Mingguang immediately understood what Yan Wei meant and said, “Don’t believe any of it.”
“Mm. Did you hear it?”
“I did.”
Lin Qing’s voice came from the lower bunk. “I heard it too.”
Cao Qun was surprised. “It’s already starting to act?”
It was the sound of a blade grinding against hard bone, continuous and drenched in a thick scent of blood. The sound was distant, not coming from the adjacent sleeper compartments, but rather from one room over.
Bed 1101.
If Zhao Jingchen had stolen Cao Qun’s room key but still returned to Carriage 12, Bed 1101 would be empty, and there would be no such sound coming from there.
Zhao Jingchen had gone to the sleeper compartment where Bed 1101 was located.
Yan Wei said word by word, “He won’t live to see tomorrow.”
This time, it wasn’t the judgmental tone he had used during the day, but a calm statement of fact.
Soon, louder noises came from outside. It sounded like something sharp was striking the train’s metal exterior, over and over, with pauses in between, as if it was expending great effort. Mixed in were the sounds of hurried footsteps, which were now in the corridor, right outside Yan Wei’s room.
“Knock knock—” “Knock knock—”
This time, the sound came from the sliding door.
Yan Wei and Yan Mingguang both sat up slightly.
“Yan Wei? Yan Mingguang? Open the door, it’s Xu Miaomiao!” The knocking was accompanied by Xu Miaomiao’s voice, which grew increasingly urgent. “Quick, those things appeared in our room! Sister Ding is holding them off, she told me to come find you!”
Yan Wei sprang up and climbed down the ladder to the floor.
In the darkness, relying on memory, he found the sliding door’s lock in an instant.
Behind him came the sound of Yan Mingguang climbing down. Yan Wei’s right arm was grabbed, and a cool touch spread through his sleeve.
He said, “Don’t worry, I know.”
Outside, Xu Miaomiao’s knocking grew more frantic, the force of it reverberating through Yan Wei’s nerves.
Yan Wei slowly leaned forward, pressing one eye against the peephole.
The peephole’s edges were uneven, magnifying the center of the view outside. The corridor’s curtains were tightly drawn, and only a faint bit of moonlight filtered through the heavy clouds, barely illuminating anything through the curtains. It only outlined the faintest shapes in the darkness.
Yan Wei took out a flashlight and shone it at the door. Pressing against the door, he looked through the peephole and saw Xu Miaomiao’s magnified face.
Her face was deathly pale under the flashlight’s glare, devoid of any color. The knocking continued, and the woman’s voice urging him to open the door was still there, but her lips weren’t moving.
The next moment, as if the thing outside sensed Yan Wei’s gaze, the face leaned closer, pressing against the peephole until it was right in front of Yan Wei’s eye. The pale face twitched slightly, and the lifeless eyes suddenly turned completely black, with blood streaming from the corners.
“Xu Miaomiao’s” urging voice was still in his ear, and the sliding door shook violently from the forceful knocking.
Through the peephole, it slowly formed a smile.
Yan Wei’s hands turned icy cold.
Not because of the terrifying scene, but because of the grip on his right arm and the cold touch that seeped through his sleeve onto his skin.
The upper bunk where he and Yan Mingguang had been sleeping was on his left side.
