Chapter 226: Frog Hospital (18) Beware of the Dean

Green Frog Hospital, staff dormitory.

Yu Kun, covered in blood, lay in a pool of blood amidst scattered flesh, gasping for breath.

From the first ray of sunlight piercing through the window in the early morning to the vast expanse of white light pouring down, only a few short minutes had passed.

All Ghosts dissipated in the light, settling down like dust and mist, adhering to the ground, leaving no trace, not even a limb.

The blood and flesh all over the ground came from Yu Kun himself.

At this moment, there wasn’t a single piece of intact flesh on his entire body. His entire left palm had vanished completely, and his arm was uneven, like fish skin scraped of its scales. Intersecting bite marks and tooth marks covered his body, and blood flowed profusely, turning him into a blood-soaked man.

But he was still alive.

His right hand remained tightly gripping the machete, adopting a protective stance, which allowed him to find a glimmer of hope for survival amidst the relentless attacks of the ghost horde.

Even though the crisis had passed, his fingers were still rigidly clamped, as if he wanted to embed the hilt into his flesh, making it a part of his body.

Anyone who could thrive in the underworld was undoubtedly a ruthless character, and Yu Kun was no exception.

Accustomed to a life on the edge, he didn’t find it difficult to adapt even in the instance — it was just a matter of changing the target of the fight from humans to Ghosts.

Anyway, no matter when or where, the same law of the jungle applied.

Survive, make huge profits, don’t get eaten, eat others.

“Damn it, I should have just given that kid a knife.” Yu Kun hissed, cursing, “If I ever meet him again, I’ll make him understand how to write the word ‘death’…

He propped himself up with the machete, took off his tattered jacket, tore it into long strips of cloth, and skillfully bandaged his wounds.

As he tore it near the pocket, he seemed to touch something hard.

He frowned, reached in, and pinched out the item with two fingers.

It was a skinned frog, vibrant blood red oozing from its exposed muscles. It had been pressed into a thin, flat piece, so light and flat that one wouldn’t notice it without careful inspection.

Yu Kun narrowed his eyes, and scenes of being besieged by female Ghosts last night flashed through his mind.

Those Ghosts seemed convinced that their children were on him, relentlessly pestering him… It was peaceful the night before, so how could a death point suddenly erupt without any warning after just one night?

Yu Kun felt he understood something and couldn’t help but curse, “Damn it, daring to scheme against me! If I find out who it was…”

The subsequent syllables were choked in his throat, replaced by a rasping sound like a broken bellows.

He lowered his head blankly, seeing a blood-dripping blade tip protruding from his chest, belatedly feeling a chill.

Behind his ear, an ethereal female voice calmly said, “Keep everything that happened in this instance a secret after you leave, otherwise Sera will destroy everything you cherish.”

…By the pond, Lin Chen, wearing a protective suit provided by the hospital orderly, held a net, ready to scoop out the frog eggs that had hatched at the bottom of the pond and put them into a bucket nearby.

The timing for scooping was difficult to grasp; it had to be done quickly, along with the eggshell, when the tadpole was only half-hatched, with just its head exposed.

If it was too early, the eggs leaving the pond would stop hatching, rendering the tadpole useless; if it was too late, once the frogs discovered the hatched tadpoles, they would swarm and devour them.

Breeding tadpoles was Lin Chen’s job in this instance. It wasn’t easy for ordinary people who hadn’t done similar work to get the hang of it.

Fortunately, Lin Chen’s learning ability had always been good, and he picked up any new skills and knowledge remarkably fast. After only two days, he was already doing it proficiently.

The players had already agreed that one person would be responsible for the work, while the others would gather evidence.

Even after last night’s little interlude, this initial plan remained unchanged.

Considering that Yu Kun might still be alive and seeking revenge at the pond would be troublesome, Lin Chen voluntarily took on the task of staying at the pond, sending the female teacher to explore the hospital building.

Firstly, he had contacted Qi Si, and secondly, as a man, he felt it was inappropriate to let a young woman venture into danger.

The half-hatched tadpoles were thrown into the bucket, splashing tiny droplets of water.

The filled bucket was taken away by the orderly and sent to the Blue Frog Hospital.

While performing the mechanical, assembly-line work, Lin Chen let his thoughts wander, contemplating aimlessly.

What happened last night was quite strange upon closer reflection.

There were no prior clues, and no events were triggered, so why did such a large-scale crisis like the Night Parade of One Hundred Ghosts suddenly erupt?

Why did those female Ghosts believe their children were with the players, relentlessly pursuing only three people throughout the entire building?

In the eyes of the female Ghosts, red frogs were equivalent to children… Right, red frogs!

Lin Chen suddenly remembered that while he was frantically dealing with the female Ghosts last night, the female teacher had remained calm by the pond the entire time, clearly knowing something.

And throughout yesterday, the only person who had contact with the frogs alone was the female teacher!

“Could it really be her?” Lin Chen muttered to himself, thin sweat seeping into his palms.

After witnessing Zou Yan’s change of face at Rose Manor, he no longer blindly trusted anyone’s outward appearance.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to maliciously speculate about others.

To act on one’s own initiative without knowing if teammates had means of self-preservation went beyond self-defense and revenge; it was an act of malice that disregarded others’ lives.

Lin Chen was unwilling to believe that the female teacher would be such a person.

“No evidence, maybe I’m just overthinking it. Should I try to subtly probe her later?

“I hope… it’s not her.”

…Blue Frog Hospital. After obtaining four Entry Permits, Qi Si winked at Huang Xiaofei.

The latter raised her hand and brought down her knife, splitting Cheng Xiaoyu in half.

After being able to go out at night, whether or not they went to the pond during the day was no longer important.

In the instance, what could be seen at night was bound to be more than what could be seen during the day.

Given that Cheng Xiaoyu was a refreshable NPC, to prevent him from leaking information, there was no harm in killing him.

Even if he still held important plot points and key clues, it didn’t matter; they could just repeat today’s route tomorrow when everything reset.

The Entry Permits were of a fixed format, with most of the text neatly printed on the paper, leaving blanks only for “Reason for Entry/Exit,” “Time of Entry/Exit,” and “Dean’s Signature.”

Cheng Xiaoyu’s main responsibility was to imitate the Dean’s handwriting and fill in the blanks.

Under the constraints of the rules, these Entry Permits should be useful.

Even if they weren’t, it didn’t matter. There were still three days left. Although time wasn’t ample, there was still room for trial and error.

Going out at night, it wouldn’t matter if they were intercepted by Ghosts halfway; with Huang Xiaofei present, the players could generally retreat unscathed.

Qi Si looked at Huang Xiaofei, who had effortlessly killed Cheng Xiaoyu, and tapped his chin with his index finger.

It had to be said that having a teammate with good combat strength was truly reassuring, at least it guaranteed a baseline for exploration… it was quite convenient.

It was still early, so Qi Si and Sun Dekuan followed Huang Xiaofei to the Archives again to verify the correctness of the clues she provided.

What made Qi Si a bit concerned was that in the registration book for personnel entering and exiting the hospital at night, more than half of the records belonged to Cheng An. He wondered if the original body’s frequent comings and goings had already aroused the Dean’s suspicion.

Along the way, Huang Xiaofei had become more familiar with Qi Si. Although she still harbored considerable wariness, she wasn’t overly sharp or direct.

She raised her slender finger, pointing to the latest record, and joked, “Being able to sign Entry Permits for you every three days, it seems the Dean has a good relationship with you, Brother Cheng. If you directly ask him to sign, he might not refuse you.”

A good relationship?

Qi Si’s gaze lingered on the closely spaced records, and the smile at the corner of his lips faded.

No matter how good the relationship, always going out at night was bound to attract attention.

Or rather, precisely because the relationship was good, abnormal phenomena would attract the concern of so-called “friends.”

The “Reason for Entry/Exit” column stated “procurement of medical equipment,” which was undoubtedly an excuse to conceal the true, unknown purpose.

It was unclear whether the Dean was aware of this and didn’t care, or if he believed the original body’s explanation.

If neither, then there was another possibility: the original body received instructions from the Dean and was one of the Dean’s pawns in harming others.

Betraying the Dean now was probably not due to a pang of conscience, but rather a greater ambition… On the flyleaf of the registration book, a sentence was prominently written:

【For the convenience of hospital management, in principle, each person shall not go out at night more than four times.】

As someone who adhered to the rules, the original body would generally never take such an obviously non-compliant action.

Unless there was tacit approval from a higher-level rule… Sun Dekuan also realized something was amiss and clapped his hands, saying, “I’m not saying this, but the relationship between the Dean and the character you’re playing, Brother Cheng, is really solid. You’re using backdoors without even trying to hide it.

“But this way, your role-playing difficulty increases linearly. Such a familiar person, with a changed core, would be finished the moment you meet…”

“Who knows?” Qi Si closed the registration book and lifted his eyelids to look at the ceiling, “After all, we haven’t seen the Dean since entering the instance.”

“Oh right, so where is the Dean? Could he be using a smokescreen and is already dead…”

The hands of the Pocket Watch of Fate ticked past the six o’clock mark, signifying evening.

Sun Dekuan’s voice gradually faded, and all figures and voices twisted into stirred paint, vaguely swirling before his eyes and ears.

A familiar sense of dizziness overwhelmed him, and the surrounding environment darkened degree by degree.

Qi Si fell backward just like at this time yesterday, as if sinking into a deeper layer of an endless dream.

His back hit the bed board, his limbs lay flat at his sides, the smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils. The scene replayed, exactly the same.

He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the familiar ceiling.

He had returned to the abandoned operating room from the beginning of the instance once again. The first time was new, the second time was familiar, so it wasn’t worth too much surprise.

The only thing that concerned him was that the number of times the Soul Contract skill had been used in this instance had reverted from “2” to “1.”

Perhaps because Cheng Xiaoyu had refreshed along with the instance world, the Contract he signed with him was effectively voided, so it didn’t count towards the usage.

In the subsequent instance progression, he could use the Soul Contract skill at least two more times.

If he signed another Contract with Cheng Xiaoyu and waited until six in the evening to reset the count, the skill could be used even more times.

Hmm, he hadn’t expected the Eerie Game to be so understanding.

Qi Si lay there for a while longer, feeling something under him, seemingly a folded white paper.

He was in a good mood, casually picked up the paper, and unfolded it before his eyes.

A line of scribbled handwriting was written on it:

【Cheng An, I am Lu Zimo. I want to make a deal with you. If you help me kill Huang Xiaofei, I can transfer the Book of the Dead to you.】

Qi Si crumpled the white paper into a ball and threw it into his backpack.

Lu Zimo’s behavior since entering the instance, always appearing to be oppressed and exploited by Huang Xiaofei, while also showing kindness to Qi Si in subtle ways, was undoubtedly a hint.

And Qi Si, in the ward this morning, deliberately showed friction with Huang Xiaofei, which was his response to Lu Zimo, encouraging him to enter the scheme with confidence.

But at the moment, he wasn’t interested in the love-hate drama between Huang Xiaofei and the Lu Zimo siblings. Even if they were to form a conspiracy, that would be for later.

What concerned him more was that this paper ball did not disappear with the instance’s reset.

“In this instance, what resets are the NPCs’ states, memories, the players’ locations, as well as the hospital’s scene furnishings and the frogs in the corners. Players’ memories and the positions of items players brought into the instance are unaffected.”

Qi Si made a judgment, and images flashed through his mind.

The disappeared charred frogs… the clean bedsheets stained with frog blood… the blue frogs habitually squatting in the blood pool every morning… The entire instance resets at six in the evening, but the frogs’ reset time is not then… Qi Si stroked his chin, once again connected with Lin Chen’s consciousness, and asked word by word, “Lin Chen, you told me last night that all the frogs in the pond were killed by the female Ghosts. What’s the situation now?”

Lin Chen meticulously described everything that had happened from early morning until now, including his suspicions about the female teacher.

Qi Si confirmed his guess: the frogs indeed refreshed in the morning, not coinciding with the overall instance reset time.

Combining the scene of the female Ghosts and frogs fighting each other, a conclusion was imminent:

This instance had multiple factions. The frogs were likely not entirely under the hospital’s control and were hostile to the Ghosts roaming the hospital.

Lin Chen was still chattering, his words filled with worry about the future.

Qi Si lowered his eyes and smiled brightly, “Tonight, you can completely verify your guess. Use the red frogs to lure those female Ghosts over, then use last night’s method to make them both suffer.

“Then, you can go under the pool to look for a passage and find a way to come to the Blue Frog Hospital.

“I’ll be waiting for you here; don’t be afraid.”

After providing emotional support to his tool, Qi Si was pleased to hear Lin Chen’s tearful gratitude.

He decisively cut the connection and pushed the door open.

In the familiar corridor, emaciated patients sat in rows on iron stools like sparrows, staring blankly at Qi Si.

Qi Si seemed oblivious, examining the posters on the wall with his back to them, smiling as he observed Dean Cheng Ping’s image, waiting quietly.

“Dr. Cheng, are you feeling better after your rest? You suddenly fainted on the operating table; we were all very worried about you.”

The nurse’s footsteps pattered and stopped nearby.

Qi Si turned to her, smiling gently, “Much better, thank you.”

He spoke the lines he had spoken on the first day, and the nurse responded just like on the first day: “The Dean already knows about your condition. He suggests you stop working and focus on receiving treatment, then return to the operating table once you’ve recovered.”

Qi Si looked into her eyes, asking with a half-smile, “Where is the Dean? I have something important to tell him. It would be best to see him now.”

“The Dean…” The nurse lowered her head, her voice drawn out and deep like a dream.

Large patches of white mist formed on her face, as if she were in a cloud, and her body swayed slightly.

After a long while, she seemed to finally think of a suitable answer, straightened her head, and looked at Qi Si: “The Dean is in his office and hasn’t seen anyone for a long time. He said he wouldn’t see anyone, but if it’s you, the outcome might be different.”

At the same time, large amounts of silver-white text refreshed wildly before his eyes, like virus pop-ups:

【You requested to see the Dean, which attracted the Dean’s attention.】

【The Dean became suspicious of you; he glanced at you.】

【Beware of the Dean! He will come to see you tomorrow…】

【Role-playing failure rate +20%】