Wait… this feeling, why does it seem… not quite right?
Bai Linlin looked at the overly bright smile on Ruan Yuan’s face, one with a hint of “plan succeeded,” and the little seedling of unease in her heart sprouted wildly upward.
Had she been too hasty in agreeing to the room fusion?
Why did it feel like she’d packaged herself up, tied a bow on it, and delivered herself to the door?
Before she could think it through, Ruan Yuan had already reined in her smile, turning her gaze back to Lin Yan, still frozen in the distance.
Her voice returned to its previous flatness, but carried an undeniable commanding tone.
“You, go. Kill the wolf.”
Lin Yan paused, his gun muzzle shifting slightly as he looked at Ruan Yuan, then at Bai Linlin, as if confirming if this was a trap.
“Wait?”
Bai Linlin reacted this time, tugging at Ruan Yuan’s hem and tilting her small face up to ask.
“Earlier… didn’t you stop him from going? You even used a throwing knife to block him.”
She pointed at the exquisite dagger still embedded in the dirt.
Ruan Yuan lowered her head, giving her a smile.
This one was milder than the earlier “triumphant” grin, but the depths of her eyes held something Bai Linlin still couldn’t fathom.
“Because,”
Ruan Yuan said unhurriedly, like explaining a simple fact.
“If we’d killed the wolf just then, the game would have ended.”
“Game over, and Linlin, you’d ‘disappear.'”
She reached out, her fingertip gently brushing the white hair by Bai Linlin’s ear.
“We’d be separated. Who knows when or in which instance we’d meet next.”
Her tone was calm, but the words “disappear” and “separated” made Bai Linlin’s heart tighten inexplicably.
“Oh… so that’s it.”
Bai Linlin nodded as if understanding, though not fully.
It sounded like Ruan Yuan had deliberately delayed to spend more time with her?
Weird method aside, but… it seemed like concern from a “good friend”?
She pushed down the odd feeling in her heart and nodded to Lin Yan.
“Big Brother Lin Yan, trouble you then.”
“The wolf’s on the bed in the inner bedroom… no resistance left.” She omitted the gory details.
Lin Yan took a deep breath, his expression complex as he glanced at Ruan Yuan, but he still raised his gun and cautiously approached the cabin again.
This time, no throwing knife stopped him. He quickly entered the house.
Not long after, a muffled sound like a sharp object piercing flesh came from inside.
Followed by the faint noise of a heavy body going completely limp.
Almost at the same instant, the familiar semi-transparent panel popped up in Bai Linlin’s vision.
[Wolf deceased, game over.]
[Task settling…]
[Task ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ (Stage One) complete.]
[Rewards distributing…]
[Obtained: Little Red Riding Hood’s Basket (special item)]
[Description: A seemingly ordinary wicker basket. Every 24 hours, the basket will automatically refresh one honey cake and one bottle of wine. The cake sates hunger; the wine restores a small amount of stamina and dispels minor debuffs. Item can be taken out of the instance.]
[Evaluation: You seem to have found an unconventional clear method? Survival is victory.]
[Overall Combat Power slightly increased: 5 → 6]
[Evaluation updated: Still cute, but seems to be learning to leverage ‘advantages’? (lol)]
Bai Linlin: “…”
The evaluation was still so punchable. Combat power up by only 1—what the hell!
And that “advantages” in quotes—what did that mean!
Before she could vent, the settlement info faded.
She felt a weight in her hand as the wicker basket covered in blue-and-white checkered cloth appeared out of thin air.
At the same time, a strong sense of detachment hit her; the surrounding forest and cabin began blurring and turning transparent.
Ruan Yuan’s figure before her also started fading, but her voice came through clearly, with a hint of instruction.
“We’ll meet in twelve hours.”
Ruan Yuan looked at her, finally reaching out to gently pinch her slightly chubby cheek, the motion much smoother than last time.
“Wait for me. Don’t wander off, got it?”
“Got…”
Bai Linlin started to reply, but an irresistible wave of drowsiness seized her suddenly, her consciousness plunging into darkness.
Consciousness floated up like from deep water.
Bai Linlin opened her eyes to the familiar boundless white.
Ceiling, walls, floor—all that heart-fluttering white.
She was back.
That initial pure white cubic space, her “personal room.”
She lay on the floor (not even a bed!), the Little Red Riding Hood basket beside her.
She sat up and lifted the cloth on the basket.
Inside lay a golden, fluffy honey cake and a dark glass bottle, corked tight—that should be the wine.
Her stomach timely grumbled.
She picked up the cake and took a big bite without hesitation.
The taste was surprisingly good—sweet but not cloying, with honey and wheat aromas, a solid texture.
A few bites down, her hunger eased a lot.
While eating, she summoned the panel.
Beside the main interface, a small, constantly pulsing semi-transparent icon appeared, like two little houses merging in animation, with a line below.
[Room fusion in progress, time remaining: 11 hours 47 minutes 22 seconds].
Below that, another more prominent countdown.
[Next forced game match: 23 hours 58 minutes 11 seconds].
“Looks like this death game is mandatory.”
Bai Linlin muttered while chewing the cake, her brows furrowing.
“Every twenty-four hours? Even a production team’s donkey wouldn’t be worked like this…”
The next issue was more practical.
Next game, without Ruan Yuan by her side, how would she survive with this “besides being cute, good for nothing” (now up to 6 combat power) little body?
By selling cuteness? What if she met monsters immune to that?
Anxiety made her fidgety.
She finished the cake in a couple more bites and carefully put the wine bottle back in the basket.
This thing might serve as a mini health potion in a pinch.
She paced the pure white empty room twice.
The room wasn’t big—about thirty square meters, utterly barren, nothing there.
Just one door.
A door she hadn’t noticed before, or subconsciously ignored.
It was embedded in the pure white wall, also white, almost blending in.
Only a shallow doorframe outline and a small, unassuming silver handle.
Bai Linlin walked to the door, hesitated, then reached for the handle.
She gave it a light twist.
Click.
The door opened.
It could open!
Her heart jumped; she took a deep breath and slowly pulled it open a crack.
Outside… not darkness, not void. There was light.
She pulled the door fully open and stepped out.
The scene before her made her hold her breath instantly.
She stood in something like a “corridor” or “street.”
Underfoot was the same pure white ground, extending forward.
Lining both sides of the street were countless… identical pure white structures like the one behind her.
Square and featureless, like meticulously placed giant white shipping containers, or… coffins?
Densely packed, endless at a glance.
Some structures had doors tightly shut; others were open, revealing similarly empty white interiors.
She saw a figure flash by a distant doorway, fast—couldn’t make out the appearance.
What… was this place?
A player hub?
Safe zone?
As she gaped at the monotonous yet eerie scene, the friends list icon in the corner of her vision flickered.
It was Ruan Yuan.
She clicked it.
Ruan Yuan: [Linlin, awake?]
Bai Linlin replied immediately: [Yeah, up. Back in that white room.]
Ruan Yuan: [You’ve lost your memory—do you remember the rules here?]
That hit the nail on the head. Bai Linlin answered honestly: [No. I just opened the room door—outside’s… weird.]
Ruan Yuan didn’t seem surprised: [If you opened the door, you should see lots of buildings like your room, right?]
Bai Linlin: [Yeah, tons of white cube houses, all lined up neatly. What is this place?]
Ruan Yuan didn’t answer directly, instead asking: [Linlin, besides being white and empty, does your building have any features? Windows? Other furniture?]
Bai Linlin glanced back at her bare cube except for the door: [Just white, empty, pure white room. Nothing.]
Ruan Yuan paused a few seconds before messaging: [Then Linlin’s house level is low. It’s Level 1.]
House level? Level 1?
Ruan Yuan continued explaining: [Think of this as players’ ‘safe zone’ or ‘rest station.’ After clearing games, besides item rewards, you sometimes get special ‘building cores’ or ‘upgrade points.’ Use them to level up your personal room.]
Bai Linlin looked at her barren room, roughly getting what “low level” meant.
Ruan Yuan: [Level 1 room is like yours now—a empty shell with just basic ‘return’ and ‘store bound items’ functions. After upgrading, the room space grows, basic furniture appears, and it can even gain minor support features based on your preferences, like slow stamina recovery, simple training gear, etc.]
Bai Linlin pressed: [After upgrading? Do you leave here?]
Ruan Yuan: [Yes. At Level 2, your room auto-‘detaches’ from this layer into the second layer space. Environment and facilities improve there; rooms get more personalized. But accordingly…]
Bai Linlin’s heart sank: [The death games you match into get harder?]
Ruan Yuan: [Mm. Difficulty and rewards usually match. Higher-level players get overall tougher and riskier instances. But there are other ways to gain resources—that’s for later.]
Bai Linlin digested the info. Wasn’t this just an alternate upgrade-grind-tower-climb game? Except failure’s penalty was real death.
She suddenly thought of a key question: [Ruan Yuan sister, what… level are you?]
This time, Ruan Yuan replied fast, but the content made Bai Linlin’s eyes widen.
Ruan Yuan: [Level 22.]
Level 22?! Bai Linlin nearly choked on her saliva. Level 1 and 22?! Wasn’t the gap ridiculously huge? She typed rapidly: [Huh?! Then how’d you match into mine? A Level 1 newbie instance?] This matching system’s broken!
Ruan Yuan’s reply carried a hint of secrecy: [Secret.]
Another secret!
Before Bai Linlin could press, Ruan Yuan sent a final message, her tone undeniable:
[For the remaining time, stay in the room—don’t wander. The ‘streets’ outside aren’t absolutely safe, especially for you now. Wait for me. I’ll come over once fusion’s done.]
The message ended with a simple symbol.
🙂
That smiley, to Bai Linlin right now, tightened her mood again—just when she’d relaxed a bit from the new info.
She stood at her Level 1 room’s door, gazing at the endless, neatly arrayed white “coffin houses,” then glanced back at her equally empty little white box.
Why would Level 22 Ruan Yuan specifically match into a Level 1 newbie instance to find her?
Was it really because of “best friend”?
She closed the door, shutting out that eerie world.
Back against the cold door panel, she slowly slid down to sit on the pure white floor.
The basket rested by her legs.
The next game countdown ticked silently in the corner of her vision.
Ruan Yuan’s room fusion countdown ticked too.
What awaited her, exactly?