Chapter 3 – Rose Manor (II) Miss Anna

The steward laid out the cutlery one by one along the long table, pouring scarlet wine into goblets and setting them before the players.

Knives and forks rested on the plates, napkins beside them, all arranged at every seat; baskets brimmed with bright-red apples, while dishes held meat laced with bloody threads, lined up across the table.

“May all guests enjoy the coming meal.” The steward bowed mechanically, pushed the emptied trolley, and vanished round the corner of the stairs without a backward glance.

At last the thing—ghost or man—was gone, and the players felt their taut nerves slacken.

Except for Chang Xu, who had snatched an apple and was crunching it, no one else showed the slightest interest in the food for the moment.

Shen Ming exhaled softly and looked around. “This instance resembles a rule-type horror story. You’ve all seen the rules; obey them strictly and you’ll stay safe.

“I’m no genius, nor any fighter, but this past week I’ve gathered enough intel to know what improves our odds of staying alive.”

“In a team instance, every person counts. I hope that from now on any ideas are brought to the table—no lone-wolf stunts.”

Ye Zi smiled. “Brother Shen’s right. We’re a team; everyone has to pitch in. Any thoughts on the rules? Let’s hear them now.”

Her gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, toward Qi Si, weighing him.

Qi Si seemed not to notice. He plucked an apple from the basket and closed his fingers round it, eyes lowered.

A red richer than blood sheathed the plump fruit, reminding him of a heart pulsing beneath flayed flesh, and even his thoughts quivered.

Feigning distraction, he lifted the napkin from the table and clenched it in his fist.

“What do you all think of Rule Two?” Zou Yan spoke first. “Neither my watch nor my phone came in. I bet it’s the same for you. The grandfather clock only strikes the hour—how do we fix the exact time?”

She paused, pulling a wry smile. “The game never wastes words. Since the rule mentions it, something must wake us uncontrollably at night.”

“Huh? What do we do then? My watch and phone are gone too…” Lin Chen asked timidly, worry on his face. “If we all wake up and don’t know the time, aren’t we finished?”

“We won’t all die,” Shen Ming soothed. “From what I’ve seen, rule-type tales are highly subjective. Usually, if you don’t realize you’ve broken a rule, you’re safe for the moment. If you do wake at night, don’t think—just go back to sleep.”

“O-oh! Thanks, Brother Shen!” Lin Chen nodded earnestly.

After two seconds of silence, with no one else speaking, he asked again, “The main quest says we must ‘crack the rules.’ Could there be other rules besides the ones we’ve seen?”

Qi Si had the same question, but since this was his “second run” he had no intention of voicing it.

Zou Yan answered, “Basic rules are usually the ones given at the start. ‘Cracking the rules’ normally means interpreting them through exploration.

“For example, Rule One says ‘Time is paramount.’ We’d need to figure out why time matters and how it ties to the instance’s worldview.”

“Finishing the main quest is only the baseline. To earn extra points you must gather more clues and decipher the worldview.”

“Thanks, I understand…” Lin Chen twisted the hem of his clothes. “I don’t dare hope for rewards. I’ve already died once; given this new life, I only want to live properly…”

“Kid, you’re adorable,” Ye Zi laughed. “We’re in the game and you’re not trying to earn points? Most Guilds have point thresholds—fall short and they reject you. Someone like you won’t be recruited; sooner or later you’ll be conned to death in an instance.”

Chang Xu set down the cleanly gnawed apple core and lifted his eyes sharply. “Second run, yet you know quite a lot.”

Ye Zi narrowed her eyes teasingly. “What, Officer, interrogating me?”

“Joined a Guild?” Chang Xu asked.

“Huh? Why should I tell you?”

“Enough, this bickering has nothing to do with the instance.” Shen Ming quickly changed tack. “Let’s each share our take on the rules so we can prepare.”

Qi Si kept his head lowered, no intention of joining. With too little confirmed info, saying more meant erring more.

He held the white napkin, carefully and intently wiping the apple in his hand.

When Shen Ming looked to him for input, he simply wore an innocent expression, brought the apple to his lips, and bit in quietly, radiating an air of not deigning to speak with mortals.

Amid the players’ discussion, the gears of the grandfather clock in the corner turned slowly, its rusted pendulum swung, and six dull chimes sounded through the hall at steady intervals.

Dinnertime.

Light footsteps came from the shadows—like a woman dancing on tiptoe, or a crouched beast poised to pounce.

Qi Si set the half-eaten apple on his plate and lifted his gaze.

A slender, tall woman approached from the stairhead, her black gown trailing across the floor, wrapping her into a gaunt ghostly silhouette.

Her beautiful face was as pale as a corpse, her dark-brown hair framing eyes that were pitch-black and lifeless, while her lips bore a red as vivid as fresh blood.

“My dear guests, welcome to my Rose Manor!” the woman sang in a round, operatic voice.

She swept her gaze across every player and glided to the head of the table, trailing a thick, intoxicating perfume laced with the damp scent of rain, as though she had just walked in from a storm.

Once seated, she hid a smile behind her hand and softened her voice to a whisper: “You may call me Miss Anna.”

The system interface spelled out the rule clearly:

【If you see Miss Anna wearing black, keep as much distance as possible.】

Qi Si arrived last; the only seat left was beside the hostess, a single step from Miss Anna.

The cloying rose fragrance enveloped him. Not unpleasant on its own, it mingled with damp air to evoke rotting stems—or worse, corpses.

Such proximity spelled danger, yet leaving now was impossible—and almost certainly forbidden.

And perhaps it was only imagination, but Qi Si felt Miss Anna’s gaze linger on him longer than on the others, sticky and slick like rain-soaked earth.

It made his skin crawl.

Miss Anna turned to him suddenly. “Sir, have we met before?”

Smiling, she lifted her hand in the elegant gesture of a medieval lady expecting a kiss upon her knuckles.

Every player looked to Qi Si, waiting for the first story beat—or death flag—to drop.

Qi Si met her lifeless black eyes and replied in the same tone: “Perhaps in a past life—in hell. Who knows?”

He mirrored her smile, grasped her hand, and gave it a quick squeeze.

Her skin was warm and sprang back without indentation; by common reckoning, the hand belonged to someone alive.

Qi Si released her, offered an apologetic smile as though recalling his manners: “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Miss Anna had expected as much; not a flicker of surprise crossed her face.

Still faintly smiling, she lifted knife and fork with slender fingers and cut a piece of meat from the nearest platter.

Wide black sleeves framed her wrists, crimson nails bright against skin so pale and bony her hands looked like talons.

She speared the pink-centered meat and chewed slowly, then ran a scarlet tongue across her lips, evoking images of raw flesh and primal feasts.

While Chang Xu, clearly detached, ate with abandon, no one else dared lift a utensil.

They watched the hostess eat, grotesque speculations sprouting and feeding a deeper dread.

Miss Anna paused, smiled, and asked, “Why aren’t you eating? Does the food not suit you?”

【Do not refuse Miss Anna’s request】 glowed on the interface—who could say whether “eat quickly” counted as such a request?

Qi Si complied at once, spearing a glossy cube of meat with his fork and slipping it into his mouth.

To his surprise, the dish—of unknown origin—was delicious: tender meat in a savory sauce, easily restaurant quality.

And the texture suggested it wasn’t the sort of meat prone to prion disease.

Qi Si’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction as, under everyone’s gaze, he forked another large piece onto his plate.

With someone leading, the rest followed suit, mechanically stuffing meat into their mouths.

After a few bites Zou Yan relaxed, acting for all the world like a genuine dinner guest.

The meal passed in silence; every last dish on the long table was devoured.

Miss Anna set down her utensils, dabbed her lips with a napkin, and swept her gaze across the diners, lingering an extra second on Qi Si.

She rose gracefully, curtseyed, and retreated into the shadows at the top of the stairs.

Lin Chen, who had barely breathed, let alone eaten, finally exhaled and tugged Qi Si’s sleeve. “Brother Qi, Miss Anna’s wearing a black dress…”

The rule had been clear: keep your distance from Miss Anna in black. Qi Si nodded. “I saw it—an austere, formal black gown.”

“Then why did you… still…?”

“The moment she sat, we all broke the rule. Sharing a table hardly counts as keeping distance.” Qi Si pocketed his napkin. “Since it’s done, we might as well look for clues.”

He left one thought unspoken.

He was certain Miss Anna had marked him—whether for the nearest seat or for some shared trait; people are good at spotting their own kind, aren’t they?

Lin Chen nodded vaguely. “Oh! Did you find anything?”

“Find something? Naturally.”

“Hmm? What?”

“Want to know?” Qi Si grinned mysteriously and pressed a finger to his lips. “Take a guess—”