Elsewhere.
Jack returned to his room, face gloomy as he eyed the broken cleaver in his hand, hatred for Holmes burning in his eyes. Dealing with the 804 father's pursuit had exhausted him—and enraged him.
"Smart little trick, Holmes. I'll remember this."
Dawn broke in a hazy white fog.
Holmes woke on time, though less than three hours of sleep left him drained. Stepping out, he found Emily already at the table, eating breakfast.
"Out again last night? Your face says it all." Emily answered her own question, eyeing him like a colleague who'd overworked. Holmes had no reply—the "overtime" wasn't voluntary.
As Grandma had warned, the mother's summons came on cue. "Mother's the kindest of the three specters, and she favors you, so..." Emily began to comfort him, but realized Holmes now had a better survival rate than her, trailing off with a pang of envy.
Knocking twice, Holmes entered the mother's room— neat and serene. She sat by the bay window, gazing at the gray world outside, then turned with a gentle smile: "Did the flashlight help last night?"
"Upstairs was pitch-black—thank you, Mother."
"Of course, my child. You've done so much for this family." Her hair coiled up, elegant face beaming: "When you killed that drunkard father, I knew you were the most sensible. If you kill your grandma too, I'll love only you."
Holmes: "..." Same script as Grandma. Both want me to kill the other—just in-law rivalry, or is there a benefit?
"Grandma's been good to me. Last night, if not for her—"
"Child, do you really think that old hag cares for you?" Mother laughed, tone gentle but laced with killing intent. "She wants you to kill me! Now, if you could only save one—me or her—which would you choose?"
DANGER! Holmes' head spun. Diplomacy was key. "If forced, I'd save you, Mother."
Her smile widened. "So you'll stab that old witch, right?"
Holmes nodded wordlessly, fearing traps, then changed the subject: "What's today's task?"
"Fetch a box for my sister upstairs. She lives on the eighth floor—be polite. Befriending her means no one here will dare touch you." She handed him an exquisite box—clearly a bonus mission.
"Not... Room 801?" Holmes asked, heart sinking.
Mother looked surprised: "You met Sister Alice? Isn't she beautiful? Didn't she sweep you off your feet?"
"… Let's just say she left quite an impression." Holmes forced a smile, face twisting like he'd eaten something foul. The landlord warned him to stay away from Alice, but this mission made that impossible.
"What's in the box?"
"Just skincare. Sister Alice and I are the only true friends here, sharing everything." Mother rested her chin on her hand, eyes twinkling: "With your charm, maybe you can woo her to be my daughter-in-law."
"Mother, you joke." Holmes laughed dryly, eager to leave. "I'll go now."
As he departed, the spectral mother's smile faded, staring blankly out the window. "So they've met... Is she targeting my son?" she whispered coldly.
Stepping out, Holmes weighed the box in his hands. It was light, but unease gnawed at him.
"Is this really a coincidence? Or another trap set by that woman?" He couldn't help the thought—Alice was the craftiest specter he'd met, all schemes and secrets. Running his hands over the box, a hidden prompt popped up:
[Good sisters? In this bloody apartment built from flesh, such magic doesn't exist—only dirty deals. What's in the box? Skincare, or something else?]
"Ah, there we go." Holmes grit his teeth. This talent loves riddles—even with two shards, it won't quit.
Grandma's room stayed shut, Emily still fetching her mission. Holmes shrugged it off and headed out.
Reaching the eighth floor, he met the Bandaged Specter, the landlord's deputy, sealing Room 804. "804 family massacre: drunk father killed wife and son, then himself. Adopted daughter taken in by Miss Xu of 801."
Holmes said nothing, but the specter noticed him: "Surprised you survived. The landlord mentioned you—rare for him to praise outsiders."
"How so?"
"Said you're blessed by luck, always slipping death. Hopes that luck rubs off on the apartment."
"… Charming." Holmes brushed past, knocking on 801.
The door opened to the twin sister, not Alice. "You again?" they said in unison.
"I have a mission here," she blurted, avoiding his gaze.
"Funny, me too." Holmes arched a brow. She's not as innocent as she seems—some lies mixed in last night's words.
She stepped aside. "Do your task." Then she fled.
Inside, the living room was empty except for a rocking chaise. A girl in white sat on the sofa, staring at a snowy TV screen. "Xixi?" Holmes recognized her—clean and composed now, but the memory of her tearing her mother's head apart made his scalp prickle.
"So cruel, all dead," she mumbled, eyes glued to the static.
A chill ran down Holmes' spine. Turning, he saw Alice's face—was she more transparent today?
"Back so soon? Already smitten with sister?" She leaned in, smile enigmatic.
"Alice—my mother sent this." He thrust out the box, forcing a stiff smile.
She didn't take it. "Did she say what's inside?"
"No, and I don't care."
"Open it. I'm curious too—she loves pranks."
Holmes hesitated, then lifted the lid. His face froze at the sight inside. "This…"
Holmes' face twitched as he opened the box, then turned it toward Alice. Inside lay a delicate cosmetics set, hues as vivid as blood.
"Look at you—thought it was a bomb," Alice chuckled, picking up a lipstick to coat her chapped lips.
Holmes stayed silent, eyeing the makeup. A faint, familiar stench of blood lingered—he didn't care to confirm its source, only wanted to finish the task. "Mission done—I'll be off."
"Leaving so soon? Afraid I'll eat you?" Alice closed the box. "I made tea—stay for a sip."
"Mother gave me another errand. Next time." Holmes tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. He turned to find Alice smiling over her teacup.
"I've decided on your favor. My room's been robbed—stealing something vital. I need you to catch the thief."
Holmes groaned: "I'm no detective. If you can't find them, how can I?" What kind of specter dares rob 801?
"I trust you. No one else in this apartment has your guts—staying calm on the rooftop last night."
"Truth? I changed my pants after." Holmes dropped the pretense.
Alice sipped tea, watching him. He relented: "Fine, I'll try."
She opened the bedroom door. The room looked normal—until Holmes noticed two holes in the wall above the nightstand, oozing blood.
"The thief dug out cement?" he feigned surprise, knowing the walls were built from spectral flesh. How did they violate the first rule without punishment?
"See if you find clues." Alice gestured. Holmes approached, touching the bloody holes.
At the touch, his face changed. Holmes' [All-Knowing] talent triggered rapidly, like a car radar hitting obstacles, and blood-red hidden messages floated before his eyes:
[A fire consumed this room, killing 12 children. Their charred flesh was built into the walls. With 12 "original residents," Room 801 became the most "sinister" in Scarlet Apartment.]
[A black-dressed woman with a black umbrella moved in, becoming the "teacher" of the 12 children.
[A week ago, a thief broke in, "stealing" two children, causing cracks in Room 801's walls.
[This is no ordinary thief—it ignores the landlord's surveillance and avoids apartment rules.
[WARNING! This side quest deeply involves the main story. Acceptance has an 80% chance of binding to the main quest. Choose carefully.]
Holmes nearly blacked out at the final warning. Fate or disaster—can't escape now. He marveled at the thief's audacity—who could violate the blood-wall rule under the landlord's nose?
Touching the wall again, another message popped up:
[One child in the wall saw the thief: tall, covered in human faces, wearing a red-bell rope. Its steps jangled with harsh bells. It tore siblings from the wall, ate them, then fled through the window when the teacher returned.]
"Covered in faces?" Holmes raised an eyebrow.
"Clues?" Alice noticed.
He repeated the description. "No such disgusting resident here," she said, "but nights bring odd ones."
"Come at midnight."
"For what?"
"To catch the thief." Her eyes glinted.
"… Sis, I've pulled too many all-nighters. I'm dead on my feet." Holmes twitched, then nodded.
DING! Player triggered A+ mission: Help Room 801 resident retrieve lost items.
Holmes massaged his temples. One favor had become an A+ mission. Days of non-stop quests—nothing like my laid-back survival plan. He sighed, feeling further from his original goal.
Exiting Room 801, Holmes encountered the landlord again on his way downstairs. The old man carried a stack of notices, pasting them at each corridor intersection.
Another announcement mission? Remembering past lessons, Holmes had no urge to linger. He weaved through players drawn to the notices and headed down, but the announcement unexpectedly popped up on his game panel:
EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT: Multiple residents report property theft. The landlord calls for a collective manhunt. Generous rewards for participants.
DING! S-RANK MAIN QUEST activated in the player's spooky world. All players may opt in.
Type: Main Quest.
Standard Completion: Capture the thief.
Perfect Completion: Capture the thief and retrieve all lost items.
Reward: Designate this spooky world as a stronghold; obtain a key to leave the apartment.
(WARNING: No penalty for failure, but the thief poses extreme danger.)
"Main quest?" Holmes tensed. So the thief is the main boss? Now it made sense why the Room 801 side quest tied to the main story—their goals aligned.
"What a powerful thief," he breathed. Eating wall flesh, named main boss—what monster is this?
DING! Player "Jack" accepts the main quest. Participants: 1/1.
DING! Player "Emily" accepts the main quest. Participants: 2/2.
DING! Player...
Players flooded into the main quest, surprising Holmes—most usually avoided S-rank dangers. They must think it's a free reward. He even saw Emily's name.
"Getting interesting." Holmes closed the panel, returning to Room 404. Emily sat in the living room, unusually frazzled.
"Grandma's in a foul mood," she groaned. "Someone stole three sweaters she spent two months knitting. She gave me an A+ mission to retrieve them! With 70% favorability, why such a hard task?"
Holmes rubbed his forehead. First Alice, now Grandma—and the bulletin says more victims. This thief is targeting the entire building.
"I saw you joined the main quest," he said.
"Grandma's task ties to it. Catching the thief with others should recover her sweaters and score main quest rewards." Emily's logic mirrored many players'—especially with Jack leading.
"Jack wants the reward," Holmes noted. "He failed to get the door key last main quest; now he's trying again."
Emily explained: "Marking this world is like a game save. If he dies in another world, he can respawn here with all progress. He wants to conquer new spooky worlds."
Holmes' eyes lit up. The reward grants incredible power. He joined the main quest.
"Your task was just delivering a box—" Emily began.
"Long story. We're teammates now."
"But we have no clues."
"Don't rely on others." Holmes munched a cracker. "I have a plan for tonight with Alice."
"Players are gathering to share clues." Emily preferred joining Jack's group. "I should go—maybe help."
After she left, Holmes knocked on Grandma's door. Her loss might hold clues. With [All-Knowing], his edge was hidden info—why he dared go solo.