Chapter 92, Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Fantasy Building

Wen Ting kept her distance from a red butterfly.

It's certainly dangerous to negotiate with a tiger, but if she were to break ties with Gong Baidie, she would die immediately.

The game and the male protagonist have become a mess, but some things remain unchanged, such as the core character design of Gong Baidie.

"White Butterfly, I'm back." Passing over Red Butterfly, Wen Ting knocked on the door frame from outside the curtain.

Only a few household slaves remained in the mansion, and all the servants in their courtyards were dismissed.

No one informed her, so she stood at the door and waited.

There was no response from inside the room. After a while, just as Wen Ting was about to raise her voice, the dark curtain was lifted by a slender hand.

A half-open, indifferent face appeared behind the light-blocking curtain. "You're here, why do you need me to hold up the curtain for you?"

Wen Ting was surprised; he could have easily said "Come in" like the office director.

Once the disguise is removed, Gong Baidie always switches between being a resentful husband and a male ghost.

Compared to a gentle and virtuous beauty, this personality has a more realistic feel to it after marriage.

He's always acting strangely, but he's easy to coax.

The hand pushed the curtain aside, and she stepped into the room.

Before he could make way, Wen Ting slipped into his arms.

She smiled and snuggled close to him, conjuring up a bouquet of flowers and saying softly, "I have a gift for you."

He glanced at the flower, turned and left, neither saying he wanted it nor that he didn't.

Wen Ting followed behind him, "Don't you like it?"

Gong Baidie didn't answer. He lay back on the couch and read a book, a common idle action he used in games.

"You like it?" Wen Ting squatted down in front of him, next to the book.

Gong Baidie didn't bother to answer the question. She pursed her lips and tugged at his sleeve. "Darling, this is a gift I carefully selected. Don't be so cold."

She sounded a bit unhappy with what she said. She knew perfectly well that crushing her would be as easy as crushing an ant for him, yet she still dared to criticize and complain.

Gong Baidie tightened her knuckles. "I really can't tell that they put any effort into such an ordinary flower."

How could you say that? That's so mean.

"Hypocrite, I hate you."

She's saying those things in a sweet tone again, flirting and being coquettish without considering the occasion.

Her Adam's apple bobbed, Gong Baidie leaned down, stared at her intently, and grinned, "Then you can hate me all you want."

Wen Ting threw the flowers at him, "You rascal, don't come looking for me before dinner."

He was covered in petals. Watching Wen Ting's departing figure, Gong Baidie picked up two rose petals and put them in her mouth.

He leaned against the couch and chewed.

The bitter flower juice numbed his tongue. He stared intently in the direction Wen Ting had left, picking up petals one by one and putting them into his mouth. Finally, he plucked the whole flower and ate it, as if he were chewing on her flesh and blood.

This woman is despicable inside and out, except when she's cursing him, she's all smiles.

Whether it was Qiao Rou's affected "annoying" or the hideous "bitch," it all made him feel happy and comfortable.

Perhaps it's because things are valued for their rarity, but since she rarely speaks her mind, it's much more pleasant to hear.

Wen Ting smashed the flowers and went back to her room to catch up on sleep, knowing full well that her actions were extremely dangerous.

Strangely enough, even knowing that Gong Baidie had turned evil, she didn't feel much fear. She pretended for two days and then resumed normal conversation. And as expected, he didn't turn on her and kill her just because of her bad attitude.

How could she trust him so much? Was it because she created him herself?

Wen Ting attributed it to the fact that they were too familiar with each other.

People may be afraid of ghosts, but not the ghosts of their parents; they may be afraid of corpses, but not the corpses of their own children.

That's probably how she felt about Gong Baidie.

Even if she really angered him, he was very easy to appease.

Wen Ting had already discovered that Gong Baidie couldn't resist her coquettishness.

Even if you use a coquettish tone and manner, or even if you ride on his head and scold him, he will blush and his heart will race.

He's just a twenty-year-old kid.

The unpleasant incident happened in the morning, but as expected, he still called her to lunch on time, setting out a table full of dishes with a blank expression.

"I'm sorry, Bai Die, I was too impatient with you this morning." Wen Ting apologized, holding his hand. "I shouldn't have been so presumptuous as to demand that you like my gift."

Gong Baidie glanced at her and curled her lips into a smile.

Forced to submit to him, she felt utterly disgusted.

“I’m so excited,” Wen Ting said, taking his hand. “But you know I love you, right?”

"..." Gong Baidie lowered her raised lips and looked away expressionlessly.

"Hmm." After a moment, he responded softly.

"Oh my, how understanding my husband is!" Wen Ting laughed immediately, scratching his palm with her index finger. "Take this opportunity to tell me what you like and dislike."

"What's the need?" Gong Baidie said indifferently. "Just give me what you want, I'll throw away what I don't like."

"It's always unpleasant to receive a gift you don't like, and I don't want any unpleasantness between us."

Gong Baidie breathes through the screen.

How dare she say such a thing?

They knew each other for over 2,600 days and nights. Excluding the 400 days she abandoned him, of the gifts he received in the remaining days, 2,153 were free gift boxes given to players by the system.

His world was filled with cheap, perfunctory love boxes, each one empty.

Wen Ting softened her voice, gently squeezing his hand with her fingertips, and said softly, "Besides, I want to know your preferences. Tell me, okay?"

“…I don’t dislike anything.” Gong Baidie withdrew her hand. “I’ve already used that bouquet of flowers.”

"Used?"

Before Wen Ting could understand how to "use" the bouquet, the man suddenly moved closer.

He pressed his nose against hers and said, "That's enough, Wen Ting. I'm tired of your acting."

A strand of black hair slipped from his forehead, brushing against Wen Ting's eyelashes.

It's both prickly and itchy.

The air was thick with the astringent scent of flowers, and she realized how Gong Baidie had "used" it up.

"What acting skills?" she asked, puzzled.

“You don’t have to hold back,” a smile tugged at her blood-red lips. “You can say whatever you’re thinking. I know you hate me.”

Wen Ting's heart skipped a beat. "What... how could you have such a misunderstanding?"

Gong Baidie stepped back, her eyes crinkling with laughter: "Ha, you wouldn't be saying you truly like me, would you?"

"I..." Before she could speak, her phoenix eyes swept over her coldly: "You don't even touch me."

Wen Ting's smile froze for a moment.

"Oh my god," she quickly composed herself, still hurt and shocked, "I didn't know... I'm sorry, Bai Die, I never thought I would cause you to have such a misunderstanding. How could you, how could you think of me like that?"

Gong Baidie was tired of seeing that expression on her face. She had used this template on countless people, with the tone of her voice perfectly matching hers at the beginning and end. She was more like a pre-programmed game character than him, as if it had nothing to do with her and everything was someone else's fault.

He leaned back lazily in his chair, listening to her continue rambling.

“I… um… how should I put it?” she said awkwardly, twirling a strand of hair around her chest. “At first, I was worried that you, as a new ruler, wouldn’t be used to the new environment; later, I vaguely sensed that you had some connection with those butterflies, and I wasn’t sure of your feelings, so I didn’t touch you rashly.”

"You're sure now." He interrupted her excuses, pushing the candied sweet potato in front of her. "Eat it quickly, and then fuck me."

Wen Ting narrowed her eyes.

Gong Baidie noticed her gaze, and her mood instantly brightened.

She probably never imagined that the gentle and refined Gong Baidie she created would utter such vulgar and crude words.

He didn't know why she had made up her mind about "Gong Baidie";

If there is something about "Gong Baidie" that attracts her, then he will smash "Gong Baidie" to pieces.

This phase isn't over yet; the bet hasn't been decided.

Wen Ting was indeed shocked.

She hates vulgar men and also hates forced relationships between men and women.

However, Gong Baidie is somewhat special.

Wen Ting couldn't describe this subtle feeling, but she felt completely at ease with Gong Baidie.

His movements, expressions, life experiences, even every single strand of his hair were all made by her own hands.

Even though Gong Baidie changed hands several times later, all of his stories were ultimately completed in her hands. She knew him too well, and hearing him swear was like suddenly discovering a red mole on her back—fresh and novel.

"I understand." Wen Ting picked up her chopsticks and said to Gong Baidie, "But could it be a little later?"

Gong Baidie raised an eyebrow.

"I need to rinse my mouth and take a shower after eating. It's our first time together, and I don't want to smell like food."

That sense of urgency gripped Gong Baidie's heart once again, just as it had when she knelt on the ground, intently drawing for him.

No one can escape her if she puts her mind to it.

He could not forget the way she looked when she fired the bullet at him.

Even if it's shit, it's not hard to accept something that's yours, especially since Gong Baidie does have an enchanting beauty.

Wen Ting went to bed without any psychological burden.

She worried for a moment whether Gong Baidie was going to drain her energy and vitality, but then she thought that if he wanted to absorb her, he would have used the butterfly already, and there was no need to make the process so long.

A canopy bed is like a secret box in a boudoir, isolating it from external interference while magnifying everything inside.

The delicate fragrance of snow orchids was locked inside the bed, transforming into a warm and comforting scent amidst rising body temperature and soft, labored breathing.

Wen Ting, dazed, clutched her tight waist, vaguely wondering if something was wrong...

In a matriarchal world, she cannot be so weak.

She had to stand up straight... "Ugh!"

Gong Baidie heard her cry of pain. Wen Ting groaned, clutching her lower back, her flushed face instantly contorting in agony.

I twisted it...

"Useless." He gloated cruelly, burying his face in her shoulder and laughing so hard he trembled. "Shall I rub it for you?"

Wen Ting closed her eyes.

Why is it that the female lead, who goes to bed early and gets up early, eats a light diet, and practices martial arts, has the same weak body as someone who sits in an office?

Not only did my lumbar spine crack, but my ankle also started to ache inexplicably.

"Thank you for your help." She didn't try to be tough at all and readily turned over and lay down on the bed.

A hand scooped up her long hair from her back, and a cool, sticky sensation traveled up her tailbone.

Like a wet snake, it slowly crawls across my back.

Wen Ting gripped the bedsheet tightly as the snake climbed to the top, coiled around her neck, and swallowed her ear.

He kneaded her lower back, leaving soft kisses on her upper body. Whenever Wen Ting was lost in the sensation, he would suddenly bite her.

"How could you be so mean?" Wen Ting was on the verge of tears, walking a tightrope with trepidation.

"Don't like my way?" Gong Baidie whispered in her ear, "Then come and do me—can you even get up?"

Wen Ting tried her best, then lay back down.

She clung to Gong Baidie's arm and bit back, her teeth and tongue gently rubbing together, more like a playful act than revenge.

She murmured softly, "Please spare me, husband..."

Gong Baidie's teeth were stuck in her back.

Her snow-white, graceful back was covered with teeth marks, the reddish marks resembling the outline of a red butterfly's wings.

He grabbed her hair, licking her canine teeth with the tip of his tongue, and said, "What are you whining about?"

“Oh dear,” Wen Ting sighed, “I said—husband, darling, it hurts so much, please let me go.”

Even men in matriarchal societies seem to love this kind of thing.

She secretly prayed that he wouldn't become even more excited after hearing her story, like men in a patriarchal society, and keep asking her endless questions.

Suddenly, the world spun around.

Wen Ting was stunned for a moment, then Gong Baidie picked her up by the waist.

They switched places; he lay below, his long, black hair spread out like ink on the brocade quilt, his alluring eyes misty, and he turned his head away unnaturally.

Wen Ting sat on him, not understanding what he meant.

He bit his lip and urged her with his thigh, "Move."

It took Wen Ting a long time to realize that he had relinquished his sovereignty.

Why did she suddenly submit—just because she flirted with him?

Oh dear, she's far too naive and easily fooled.

The exact cause of the effusion could not be determined, so several more experiments were conducted.

Her dawdling quickly made Gong Baidie frown. Whenever he showed impatience, she would tease him in a high-pitched voice, "Baby, baby butterfly, I like you so much, do you like me?"

He should be sarcastic or disdainful and mocking.

But as long as her voice was sweet and soft enough, he would bite his lower lip and turn his head away in embarrassment.

“Tell me,” Wen Ting said, stroking his chest. “Tell me.”

Gong Baidie raised her forearm to cover her eyes.

He suppressed his breathing amidst his disheveled hair, his Adam's apple bobbing laboredly, "...Don't whine, Wen Ting."

His voice was hoarse and deep, no longer resembling a male ghost or a resentful husband, but simply that of a boy being teased by his older sister.

Wen Ting's eyes held a smile.

“My dear,” she said, bending down to kiss his collarbone, “I’ll do whatever you say.”

The muscles under the lips tensed instantly.

From today's perspective, Gong Baidie's waist-to-body ratio is actually a bit off. It was her first time drawing a male character, and some details weren't handled well enough.

The butterfly pattern on his face shouldn't be white either; pink marks left after a burn would look more natural and be more reasonable.

This young body is like a treasure chest from childhood, every part of it a warm memory.

With fingers spread, she covered the full pectoral muscles and murmured softly, "Relax, it's so hard to touch."

The muscles suddenly contracted, becoming even more tense instead of relaxing.

Wen Ting looked at it and suddenly felt something was off—

It doesn't seem like this proportion; it should be more... robust, firmer, and more harmonious...

She stopped moving, and Gong Baidie twisted her waist impatiently.

The stuffy, unventilated canopy bed made him break out in a cold sweat, and he was driven almost mad by Wen Ting's terrible back strength.

He's useless; she can't handle him, so she'll make him serve her.

A flicker of restlessness crossed Gong Baidie's eyes as she tried to turn over. When she looked up, she was met with Wen Ting's unfocused pupils.

He instantly snapped out of his daze and pulled himself away from her sweet talk.

The energy accumulated from the ghost stories has been completely exhausted, and even the swallow feathers inside the body are only half left.

His strength was waning, and he could no longer even hold onto Wen Ting's memories.

Gong Baidie lowered her eyes.

He covered Wen Ting's confused eyes and pressed her down onto the pillow.

"Cough..." She was caught off guard and coughed.

"Wait, wait—" Wen Ting had just snapped out of her daze when he covered her eyes with his palm.

"What's wrong... what are you doing?" Her vision was completely dark, except for the snow orchid fragrance in his hand. Her voice was broken from the impact, and she couldn't utter a complete sentence.

Gong Baidie didn't give her another chance to act cute.

Wen Ting initially tried to comfort him, but bit her tongue while trying to speak, and immediately gave up.

Oh well, he's at that age where he's easily provoked, so let him be.

She groaned and groaned, her words clearly a sudden storm, and gradually Wen Ting sensed a hint of sadness.

The wind outside the window seemed strong, and in the hazy, indistinct light, she heard the howling of the wind.

The sound was mournful and desolate, like the continuous sound of an ocarina.

Xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument)...

She had never heard of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) before.

Blindfolded, Wen Ting seemed to see some kind of dazzling aurora, accompanied by fairytale-like music, and an amusement park in ruins kept spinning in her mind.

How eerie.

She was so exhausted that she fell into a deep sleep, and she never dared to underestimate the young man again.

After resting for half a day, Wen Ting was finally able to move freely again.

“Alright,” Wen Ting said, pushing away the man who was getting closer and about to kiss her lips. She picked up a map and placed it between them. “This is where the bandits and robbers in the area are located.”

She drew several circles with cinnabar for Gong Baidie to see, "It won't take half a day to travel back and forth between these three places. Let's set off now, release the butterflies, go for a boat trip on the lake, have dinner, and the butterflies should be coming down the mountain by then. That way we can be back before 10:00 or 11:00."

After she finished speaking, she asked Gong Baidie for her opinion: "What do you think?"

Gong Baidie silently looked at the various markings on the map.

After a long silence, he chuckled, "So you're really planning to support me with a living person? Wen Ting, do you know what you're doing?"

“I know no one can take another’s life on their own, even if these bandits kill without mercy, they should be handed over to the government and the law.” Wen Ting sighed. “However, this is a cannibalistic society. Every needle and thread used by the rich and powerful is obtained by exploiting people. Bai Die, don’t expect so much from me.”

"Have you ever thought that if you increase my appetite, I will eat more and more?"

“There are plenty of people in this world who deserve to die,” Wen Ting laughed dismissively. “When that day comes, I will send you out to find food. If you wish, eat some wicked people to rid the people of evil; if you do not wish—as long as things don’t reach the emperor, I can handle it. If I didn’t see it, I will pretend it didn’t happen. When you come back after you’ve eaten, you will still be my beloved husband.”

Gong Baidie narrowed her eyes, "You never even thought about getting rid of this troublesome person?"

“I’ve thought about it,” Wen Ting said truthfully, “but I think you won’t leave, and you’ll be so angry that you’ll strangle me.”

Gong Baidie chuckled softly, "You seem to know me quite well."

Wen Ting smiled and said, "Yes, you are the person I understand best."

The smile on Gong Baidie's face vanished instantly.

She spoke the truth twice, but he didn't feel any pleasure at all.

Wen Ting asked in confusion, "What's wrong?"

She had barely uttered the question when her lips were sealed with a kiss.

The crisp fragrance of snow orchids wafted over, invading her mouth and nose without warning.

Wen Ting quickly softened her body and gently patted Gong Baidie's back, comforting her with each pat.

Is it because he's young...? His kisses, his sex, always carry a sense of finality and madness, like a death sentence.

Amidst their intertwined breaths and gasps, she vaguely heard him murmur, "You won... Wen Ting, you won."

"Huh?" She didn't quite hear him and asked what he said.

He didn't answer, but buried his head in her shoulder.

According to Wen Ting's plan, several bandit strongholds around the imperial city became Gong Baidie's granaries.

No one in the manor is sick anymore, but with so many people dismissed, rumors have spread, and many servants have resigned and left.

Fewer and fewer powerful and wealthy people came to the mansion to drink with Wen Ting. The flowers in the garden were either dead or withered, and the only bright spots were red butterflies that had stopped to rest.

Coincidentally, the weather was also consistently bad.

Wen Ting woke up in bed and looked out the window through the openwork bed frame.

It was gloomy and dark outside, as if a torrential downpour was about to begin.

She felt something was wrong and was about to get up and go out to check, but the man next to her pulled her back.

"Awake?" He hooked his arm around her waist and licked his lips. "Then let's continue."

He was practically racing against time.

Wen Ting was truly exhausted, not only physically but also mentally. She could clearly feel that she was sleeping longer, spending half of her time sleeping every day.

She was too weak to move and fell into a deep sleep, and even Gong Baidie, the one who had made the suggestion, was always in a daze and fast asleep.

When Wen Ting came to her senses, she suddenly realized that she hadn't left this canopy bed in a long time.

Three days? Five days?

She broke out in a cold sweat and, taking advantage of Gong Baidie's deep sleep, threw off the covers and went outside.

I'm determined to go out today.

Stepping out of the box-like bed, Wen Ting pushed open the door and paused for a moment.

The door won't open...

She turned around in surprise, but there was no movement in the canopy bed; Gong Baidie was still asleep.

When was the door locked? Why did he lock it?

Unable to open the door, she turned and went to the window.

The window is large, only half a person's height off the ground, so it's not difficult to climb out.

Wen Ting pushed open the window and tried to climb out by clinging to the windowsill, but her feet couldn't stick out of the window.

She kicked her legs in surprise, but the empty courtyard was right outside the window, yet her feet couldn't go out—it was as if there was an invisible wall blocking the window.

What happened...?

Slightly flustered, she ran to try the other window.

It's still completely blocked.

The view outside the window was so realistic, with birds flitting across the courtyard, yet she couldn't peek out even a little bit!

Wen Ting was not giving up, so she left the window and went to try the door.

As she turned around, she suddenly bumped into a cold embrace.

Gong Baidie, draped in a red robe, stood behind her, smiling.

Wen Ting took a half step back and braced herself against the wall.

"You're awake..."

"Hmm." He stroked Wen Ting's face. "Didn't I tell you, if I don't wake up, slap me twice?"

"..." A hint of speechlessness mixed with a sense of horror, "Honey, your face is turning blue, go for a walk."

Gong Baidie didn't seem to care much. "Don't worry about it, it's normal."

"This is normal?" Wen Ting asked incredulously, pulling on his drooping sleeve and pointing to the doors and windows. "And these doors, these windows, why can't we get out!"

"Oh?" Gong Baidie leaned over and looked, a smile appearing on her lips. "It's starting to form a cocoon."

“…What?” Wen Ting asked blankly.

"It's formed a cocoon." Gong Baidie raised her hand and covered the window.

His fingers, reaching out of the window, were blocked by an invisible barrier.

The man gave a faint smile and muttered to himself, "It's finally over."

"What do you mean!" Wen Ting grabbed his red robe. "Explain yourself clearly."

"Don't worry about Wen Ting, we have at least seven more days." Gong Baidie turned back from the window, her mood cheerful, even somewhat excited. "Want to fuck me? Or do you want something to eat?"

Wen Ting said sharply, "I'm asking you to explain to me what 'cocooning' means."

He clicked his tongue, condemning her for being persistent and unromantic. "How do you expect me to explain this? Butterflies have to spin cocoons. The insect inside the cocoon turns into a puddle of white liquid, redifferentiates, and accumulates enough strength to break free and become a butterfly."

"But as you can see, I am now a dried-up shell, powerless. Forming a cocoon is our final step."

What he said seemed nonsensical, but Wen Ting could vaguely understand this abstract idea.

After a long pause, she processed his convoluted words: "...I'm going to die?"

Unfortunately, in ghost stories, he can never kill anyone.

“It’s a deep sleep. You will turn into pus with me, solidify into a ball, and sleep forever in this cocoon.” Gong Baidie observed the condition of the cocoon on the window. “At most, seven more days.”

“Come, Wen Ting,” he said, opening his arms and letting his loose robe unfurl like a red butterfly. “For the last seven days, I will grant you whatever you desire.”

A mixture of shock and rage welled up in Wen Ting's heart, and she was momentarily speechless.

This expression was extremely interesting. Gong Baidie supported herself on her knees, bent down to look at her face, her long, dark hair trailing on the ground.

He tilted his head and smiled at her, "It's been a long time since you've hired a prostitute, are you thinking about it?"

"Do you want to hear the pipa or the qin, the arrow-throwing game or a card game? Do you want to talk about poetry or listen to music?" He chuckled. "I can have Wen Ting, I can! I was a famous courtesan in the south for ten years. I can satisfy whatever you want."

Snap!

Wen Ting finally understood the situation and slapped that beautiful face across the face.

Gong Baidie was stunned for a moment.

He touched the red mark on his face, looked at Wen Ting's angry expression, and suddenly grabbed her red hand, licking it from the vein under her wrist all the way to her fingertips, chuckling stickily, "Fine, you can treat me like a prostitute. I'm happy to serve you for the last few days."

Wen Ting abruptly pulled her hand away; her palm was slippery, cold, and damp.

"Why!" she cried, utterly disappointed and furious. "Wasn't I good enough to you? I tried my best to help you with everything you did, so why did you treat me like this!"

"What are you saying?" Gong Baidie smiled gracefully. "Since you love me so much, wouldn't it be romantic to transform into butterflies with me? It would be a timeless love story."

The sun's rays throbbed, and Wen Ting tried her best to calm herself down. "What exactly do you want?"

“I’m keeping my promise to you,” he said abruptly, scratching at the slap mark on his face with his fingernails.

"What promise?"

He fell silent again. Wen Ting rubbed her temples. "Gong Baidie, what misunderstanding is there between us? Was my sincerity insufficient? Why did you take such an extreme action?"

"...It's too late, Wen Ting."

He suddenly stopped smiling exaggeratedly, his phoenix eyes lowered, and he sighed deeply, "That's enough, it has to end here."

He no longer had the strength to create the next layer of illusion.

"Is there really no way to talk about this?" Wen Ting stared at him.

She shouldn't be surprised; it would be strange to coexist peacefully with such a non-human monster. For no apparent reason, she felt more anger than fear—

She always looks like a dead person, and she goes crazy all the time, ruining her perfectly good life!

The man looked like a caterpillar that had just finished spinning its cocoon; his complexion and aura had become dull, he was exhausted, and everything had been drained from him. Only then did she realize that he was not vigorous and energetic at all, but rather excessively thin.

Unable to communicate, only silence remained.

Wen Ting laughed angrily, "Fine."

She took two steps back and then suddenly rushed towards Gong Baidie.

She used all her strength this time, and actually knocked Gong Baidie, who was like a withered leaf in the wind, to the ground.

He was stunned by her sudden action.

Wen Ting rushed to the desk and grabbed a book from it.

With her back to him, Gong Baidie didn't realize what she was doing for a moment.

When he heard the crackling sound of burning, he saw her holding a large bundle of books that had caught fire from the oil lamp, and slamming them against the window—

"A cocoon, is it?" she gritted her teeth. "Who wants to become a butterfly with you! If I can't burn through this cocoon today, I'd rather burn myself than become pus with you!"

"No—!" Gong Baidie's eyes bulged with rage as she crawled toward her using both hands and feet.

The flames near the window spread instantly, becoming a raging inferno.

The butterfly pattern on his face turned blood red in the firelight, but he had lost the power to extinguish the fire.

Gong Baidie frantically pressed her hand against the burning window, frantically trying to extinguish the flames.

The scorching smell instantly filled the air, and he muttered in a daze, "No, no, don't... Stop! Stop!"

The blazing flames extended along his skin to his red robe, enveloping him in flames.

Wen Ting took out the books on the cabinet, the paintings on the wall, the half-finished embroidery in the drawer, and a women's summer dress that he didn't know when he made, and threw them all into the fire to help the blaze.

Thick smoke billowed inside, obscuring Gong Baidie's face. She could only make out the human figure outlined by the flames through the black smoke.

She touched the scissors he used for embroidery and aimed them at the window that had been burned for a long time.

A faint, damp laugh reached her ears; someone whispered in her ear—

"Raise your hand"

"pay close attention"

"Stab it down."

Sizzle—

Sharp scissors ripped open a window.

The fiery figure lunged at her, hysterically crying, "No! Wen Ting—please, with me…"

The words were never fully spoken.

Suddenly, the thick smoke and flames disappeared, and a dark steel and concrete building appeared around her.

Her legs went weak, and Wen Ting collapsed to the ground, drenched in cold sweat.

She gasped for breath, and this time she regained all her memories without feeling too dizzy.

Once her breathing had calmed down, she looked ahead and said coldly and angrily, "You're playing word games with me."

He said if he won the bet, she would suffer less.

She confirmed with him whether this meant she could go down fewer floors, and he didn't object at the time.

However, she ended up dying on the 10th floor.

A meaningless bet.

Wen Ting wasn't too surprised.

She waited for a while until her strength returned, but no red chat bubble appeared. She didn't insist on getting an explanation from Gong Baidie.

At this point, there's nothing more to say.

Suppressing the irritation in her heart, Wen Ting focused her attention on what was in front of her.

This floor is a bit strange; the heart-shaped gift boxes in the corridor have not only become smaller and fewer, but even the lids are gone.

The largest gift box is now only half a person tall, and there are many empty aisles.

Wen Ting surveyed the situation and realized that she didn't need to climb the boxes; she could walk directly through the gaps between them.

He doesn't even have the energy to change these props and models anymore...?

Supporting her aching lower back, Wen Ting braved the raging wind and headed for the elevator.

The wind made her eyes dry and sore, and this strong wind also appeared in this illusion.

Wen Ting guessed that this strange tale was like a dilapidated house, leaking air everywhere.

Something's not right...

He painstakingly created so many illusions, and was already exhausted, yet he didn't directly stab her in the back.

At first, Wen Ting thought he was just playing with his prey, but the final fire and his despair seemed genuine.

Could it be that Gong Baidie wasn't just toying with her with ease?

Wen Ting suddenly had a bold conjecture:

Ordinary methods cannot kill people.

Even the illusion he created couldn't kill her; it could only put her to "eternal sleep."

If he can't kill anyone... then the colleague who "died" earlier may not actually be dead!

Gong Baidie is bound by certain rules; if she persists, she might actually have a chance to turn the tables.

Wen Ting gripped the gun tightly and carefully walked close to the box.

Suddenly, she stopped and listened intently.

A rustling sound came from the howling wind.

Wen Ting turned her head to be on guard, and suddenly she saw two thin lines swaying outside the cement window.

What is that...?

The next moment, the thin line moved up, revealing a pair of huge, dark red butterfly wings and a swollen, decaying human head!

Pat-pat, pat-pat...

Wen Ting's breath hitched as she was startled to see rotting human butterflies crawling in from outside the walls on both sides.

An indescribable, intense stench instantly enveloped the entire floor.

Unlike before when she observed the butterfly up close and didn't smell anything, now even with ventilation everywhere, the intense stench made Wen Ting gag and tear up.

She suddenly remembered what day it was.

She shot Gong Baidie in the early morning of the eighth assessment day. Today was the assessment day, the day the monsters would be out.

The first group of butterflies climbed in from outside the wall, moving towards her with a clear purpose.

But she was clearly in first place; they shouldn't have attacked her.

No, that's not right!

The rules state that employees are not allowed to take leave on assessment days. Except for the top five performers, any employee absent on the assessment day will be considered to have resigned.

The top five students don't get exempt from monster attacks, but they can take leave on the assessment day!

Wen Ting immediately took out her phone and hid under the box to send a leave request.

There was no response.

She anxiously refreshed the page, and then suddenly saw the displayed process message:

[The process has reached "03. Leadership Approval"]

Employee Code of Conduct Rule 4: [To request leave, you must give at least one hour's notice and obtain approval from your supervisor; leave exceeding 3 days requires director's approval.]

Her superior is dead; the next level up is Gong Baidie!

Damn bitch!

In the long-silent floor, the first bubble suddenly appeared:

[Stop]

Then came the second, the third… In an instant, a dense, overwhelming crimson expanse spread across the sky:

[Stop][Stop]

[Stop][Stop][Stop][Stop]

[Stop stop ...

[Stop][ModuleNotFoundError: Nomodulenamed'module_name'!!Stop stop stop stop!!! Stop]

...

...

...

[Stop]