13: Chapter 13 The words underground were written in blood!

Chen Fan sat on the roof ridge all night.

The bronze bell shard pressed against his chest, its heat like a piece of red-hot coal, searing his skin through his thick canvas work clothes.

He watched the sky in the east gradually turn white, a bitterness rising in his throat—the sound of the seven teacups hitting the ground last night still echoed in his ears. When Xiao Tao covered the bodies of their three companions with straw mats, Su Shuang had said, "Demon power is inherently selective," but he had clearly seen the girl in the school uniform fall, with tea stains that hadn't been wiped clean still clinging to the corners of her eyes.

"Chen Fan."

The scent of plum blossoms drifted over first, mingled with the crispness of the dew.

Chen Fan didn't look back, but he heard the faint creak of the blue tiles being pressed—as Su Shuang's fox tail brushed past his feet, it brought a subtle breeze. He could even imagine her cascading hair shimmering with a pale gold in the morning light.

"Here."

A roll of yellowed map was held out before his eyes.

Chen Fan looked down and saw that the edges of the pages were charred, as if they had been snatched from a fire. Once unfurled, it revealed a map of the city's underground pipe network. Three crooked characters, "Black Ridge Path," were circled in red ink, with a crack marked in cinnabar at the end point.

"It was mentioned in the Ancestral Clan's remnant scrolls." Su Shuang's fingertip rested on the crack. "You said you heard the system broadcast 'Initiating purge protocol' last night. I suspect..." She paused, her other hand pulling out a charred piece of wood with brownish bloodstains on it. "I found this in a wall crevice in the alley behind the Teahouse this morning."

Chen Fan took the piece of wood. The five crooked words, "They are not gods," made his pupils contract.

He was all too familiar with this handwriting—three days ago at the construction site ruins, the moment the blue light of Old Wu's monitor flashed, he had caught a glimpse of similar blood-written words. In the "Tyrant Pavilion" check-in list scrolling on the system forum last night, the last line of small text was also in this handwriting.

"Someone has been resisting for a long time." Su Shuang's voice was as soft as a sigh. "Black Ridge Path is an abandoned subway line that was sealed off by a cave-in ten years ago. Those who entered..." She looked up at him, her fox-like eyes shimmering with amber in the morning light, "...none came out alive. Except for the one who carved these words."

Chen Fan gripped the piece of wood tightly, its edges digging into his palm.

He stared at the crack mark on the map, his throat tightening—the system always said "Players are the chosen lucky ones," but the despair in Old Wu's eyes when he died, the way the girl in the school uniform clutched her hem before falling, and these blood-written words... He suddenly remembered the "Data Anomaly +10%" that popped up on the system panel last night. It turned out Su Shuang's demon power had long been tearing away the system's facade.

"I'll go." He tucked the map into the inner pocket of his work clothes, the bronze bell shard swaying along with it. "I'll leave as soon as it's light."

Su Shuang didn't stop him; she simply reached out and straightened his collar, which had been ruffled by the night wind.

The unique body temperature of the Fox Clan traveled through her fingertips, slightly warmer than a normal person's. "The tunnel entrance is in the District 3 Ruins. The iron gate is rusted shut." She paused. "Watch out for the red light."

Chen Fan nodded. As he turned, he noticed the tips of her ears were flushing red—it was the first time he had seen her show such an expression.

The District 3 Ruins were quieter than he had imagined.

The morning light shone through a tilted billboard, illuminating the shattered glass and twisted rebar covering the ground.

Chen Fan crouched as he moved through a partially ruined wall, hearing the system prompt from afar: "New Player No. 073, dungeon progress 30%, please proceed to level B2 to collect Crystal Cores." He ducked behind a concrete pillar, watching three players in Gray Robes run past with weapons. Only after their footsteps faded did he head toward the subway entrance.

The iron gate was so rusted that only its outline remained. When he pried it open with a metal shard, the creak was exceptionally piercing in the empty ruins.

Chen Fan held his breath, waiting for three seconds. Hearing no movement, he bent down and crawled inside.

A musty smell hit him, mixed with the stench of rust and damp earth—the characteristic scent of an underground tunnel. He had worked as a tunnel laborer at a construction site for half a year and was very familiar with it.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he kicked something hard.

Looking down, he saw a withered corpse huddled in the corner. A New Player bracelet was still around its wrist, its LED light long extinguished, leaving only a dull gray plastic shell.

Beneath the corpse lay a task card with curled edges. Written on it in red ink was: "Find the Missing Cleaner (Hidden Task). Completion Condition: Find their left-behind log."

The system panel remained silent.

Chen Fan squatted down. Just as his fingertips touched the task card, a raspy whisper suddenly sounded in his ear: "Don't... touch the red light..."

He looked up sharply. In the tunnel, only the dim blue emergency lights flickered overhead.

Wind poured in from deeper within, making the hem of his work clothes flutter.

Chen Fan gripped the metal shard, his heart skipping a beat—he had heard this voice in the alley behind the Teahouse last night. At the time, he thought it was a hallucination, but now...

"Don't touch the red light."

It was clearer this time, as if drifting from deep within the tunnel.

Chen Fan walked in the direction of the voice. The walls were covered in scratch marks, some with bloody fingernails embedded in them. He counted at least seven that were fresh—left within the last three days.

A swing at the corner swayed once.

Chen Fan's footsteps halted.

It was a little girl in a red dress, sitting on the swing with her back to him. Her thin legs swayed back and forth, and the tips of her hair were flecked with mud.

The nursery rhyme she hummed drifted over: "Red light shines, the soul departs, brother come quickly and take my hand..."

Su Shuang's warning exploded in his ears: "The system loves using sentimentality to deceive people." Chen Fan stared at the little girl's shadow—under the emergency light, her shadow was so faint it was almost invisible.

He deliberately lightened his footsteps as he approached, and when he was three steps away, he suddenly threw the metal shard!

*Clang—*

The metal shard passed through her body and shattered the waist-high stone wall behind her.

The little girl's body popped like a balloon, dissolving into a chaotic flow of data with a "shhh" sound. The system prompt immediately blared: "Illegal trap-evasion behavior detected, task violation +15%!"

Chen Fan sneered, bending down to pick up the rebounding metal shard.

The edge of the metal shard was stained with blue data fragments. He wiped them off with his thumb and continued deeper into the tunnel.

The further in he went, the heavier the musty smell became, and the scratch marks on the walls grew denser. In some places, dark red bloody handprints were visible, as if someone had been pressed against the wall while struggling.

"Don't touch the red light..."

The voice came from overhead.

Chen Fan looked up and saw a translucent figure floating on the rock wall. It wore the orange-yellow vest of a Cleaner, its face blurred, and its mouth opened and closed, repeating those four words.

He squatted down and mimicked the other's mouth movements, responding softly: "Don't touch the red light."

The figure looked up abruptly. It raised its hand, pointing vaguely toward a crack in the rock wall—the crack was so thin it was almost impossible to notice without looking closely.

Chen Fan took out the metal shard and pried the loose stones along the crack. With a "click," a charred remnant of a log page fell out.

As soon as he touched the remnant page, the system panel flickered wildly: "Unauthorized task progress acquisition detected, experience settlement delayed! Experience settlement delayed!" Chen Fan frowned. Just as he was about to stuff the page into his work clothes, a surge of heat rose within him—the critical hit system was responding!

[Task experience acquisition speed critical hit triggered! x3]

No sooner had the prompt finished than the task chain, which originally required an hour to unlock step by step, unfolded in his mind within thirty seconds like a fast-forwarded videotape.

Chen Fan stared at the handwriting on the remnant page, his blood freezing instantly: "...The system is not salvation; it is a harvest. Every time a dungeon is completed, a sliver of the soul is drained... By the King Level, only an empty shell remains... We are batteries, not players..."

"Kid... you... shouldn't have come..."

The raspy voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing against metal, making Chen Fan's eardrums ache.

He looked up sharply. The rock wall cracked open, and a petrified giant figure slowly crawled out—its entire body was cracked like cooled lava, its eye sockets were dark holes, and a gravelly sound rolled in its throat: "You read the log..."

Chen Fan gripped the metal shard, his palms slick with sweat.

He watched as Master Shi spread his arms to block the passage, hearing the muffled sound of rock layers collapsing behind him. He suddenly smiled—the system always said "Players must obey," but Old Wu's blood-written words, Su Shuang's demon power, and this gatekeeper who was nothing but an empty shell...

"Since it's lying to me..." He stared at Master Shi's cracked chest, where a very thin red vein was wriggling, "...then I'll just lie back."

As Master Shi's roar exploded amidst the rumble of shifting rock layers, Chen Fan had already reached for the bronze bell shard in his inner pocket—its heat was even more intense than last night, as if it were about to burn through his heart.