Chapter 53 Part 2

Surprisingly, in the cramped space, both demons’ attacks deliberately avoided the human huddled by the wall. They tacitly held back their power in the fight, evenly matched for the moment.

Zhong Nian had no time to see who gained the upper hand. He knew only that his chance to escape had come.

He immediately rolled under the bed, not forgetting to grab the dagger.

He wanted to flee through the door, but the Octopus Demon blocked it. He slipped to the window instead, eyeing the height and the pitch-black fog, hesitating.

The Cabin’s structure made climbing down feasible with several handholds, but no one could say if a fourth demon lurked outside.

At least these two in the room hadn’t harmed him substantially yet.

In that moment of hesitation, a severed tentacle segment flew to the wall beside him, spraying blue-black blood everywhere.

Turning his head, he saw the Octopus Demon clearly outmatched by the Goat Demon, suppressed and losing tentacles, yet refusing to retreat. It swelled even larger, blocking the door completely, its tentacles gaining strength.

Zhong Nian was distracted for just a second before resolving himself. He opened the window.

He’d just gripped the sill and lifted a leg to climb out when his waist tightened. A tentacle yanked him back onto the bed.

His vision blurred, and he saw the Octopus Demon clinging fiercely to the Goat Demon, dragging it out the window together. Another tentacle “slapped” the window shut.

Zhong Nian was stunned for a moment, and by the time he rushed back to the window, nothing was visible.

Events unfolded too suddenly for his mind to process. The next moment, the door was kicked open, and a tall figure rushed to him.

“You’re injured?”

The words carried a faint, barely detectable tremor. The man stood by the bed; after battling the demon, his muscles trembled uncontrollably—perhaps from adrenaline. His dark eyes lacked their usual calm, like an upturned sea.

“I…” As Zhong Nian spoke, the Masked Man swiftly but carefully lifted his shirt hem.

Beneath the pajamas speckled with bloodstains, his jade-pale skin bore only large finger marks—no other wounds.

“I’m not injured. Calm down.” He quickly pressed down the hand about to tug at his pants, his expression awkward. “They went out the window.”

The Masked Man didn’t check the window but scanned Zhong Nian thoroughly with his gaze, confirming no bad marks beyond the bloodstains.

Even the few blue-black splatters on Zhong Nian’s cheeks were intolerable to him. He reached to wipe them but saw his own hands covered in demon filth and silently withdrew.

Zhong Nian didn’t notice the small gesture. Frowning, he said: “What about you? You were already hurt, and now it’s worse.”

“No big issue.” The Masked Man’s expression was regretful. “I let it escape.”

“First, re-treat your wounds, then we can talk.”

In the time it took to re-bandage, they explained everything to each other.

The Masked Man was always concise, summing it up in two sentences.

When he’d gone out, the demon had already devoured the Bald Man, leaving only bone fragments. It wasn’t weak—its body stretched like an elongated ghost shadow, two meters tall. Its strength lay in its hands, which were curved knives, and its extreme evasion. When cornered, it cunningly melted into black liquid.

Physical attacks were useless against the liquid; only special props worked. The Masked Man used the Silver Spear to force out its true form, clashed several times, but the demon fled downstairs upon realizing he was tough.

Since Zhong Nian was still in danger inside, the Masked Man hadn’t pursued.

Zhong Nian sank into thought: “Hard to say which one is the devil disguised among us—or maybe neither.”

The Masked Man nodded.

They exchanged a glance, understanding each other perfectly with that look.

They rose and split up to find the other players still feigning ignorance.

Under their forceful door-busting, the “sleeping” players were “woken” one by one.

The reluctant players swallowed their complaints upon seeing the bloody carnage in the corridor.

Only Jie Jialiang stared at the unrecognizable pile of limbs and bones, sighing pityingly: “I didn’t expect tragedy to strike anyway. When he escaped from the Confessional tonight, I was certain he was the devil. I thought his shouting was just to mislead me. Turns out I misjudged and got him killed…”

Zhong Nian ignored the pompous excuse, quickly scanning everyone.

The Skinny Man hung his head, seemingly snickering gleefully. The couple clung tightly, faces uneasy.

Inside the rooms, nothing seemed off.

He exchanged a look with the Masked Man and shook his head.

Either the demons had returned too quickly, or none had acted tonight—they saw no flaws.

If someone had been absent, the answer would’ve been obvious.

But it was futile.

…

That night, Zhong Nian didn’t return to his room. Besides the mess making it unlivable, it was mainly for safety.

This time, he didn’t refuse, realizing that even apart, the Masked Man would rush over at the slightest sound. Better to stay together from the start.

He hadn’t expected they’d encounter their first conflict before sleeping.

—Over who slept on the bed.

The Masked Man: “I can sleep anywhere.”

Zhong Nian: “How is it the same? This is your room, I’m the one asking for your help, and most importantly, you’re injured… Of course you sleep on the bed. How can you sleep on the floor?”

“…”

The Masked Man wasn’t good with words. After a pause, he stubbornly spat out: “You sleep.”

Zhong Nian: “No way! I’m not that delicate. With an extra blanket on the floor, I’ll sleep fine.”

The Masked Man acted directly, grabbing his slender shoulders and pressing him onto the bed.

“You sleep.”

Zhong Nian was utterly helpless, puffing his cheeks as he muttered: “Are you even listening to me?”

He couldn’t get mad at this overly stubborn teammate. Thinking of how they’d argued over something so simple for so long, he found it inexplicably funny.

Seeing the Masked Man’s stern face refusing to yield, Zhong Nian grabbed his hand and tugged, tilting his head to gaze up with lamp-lit eyes, softening his voice to negotiate: “We’ve let dawn creep up arguing. We won’t sleep at all… If you don’t mind, I’ll sleep inside, you outside—no floor needed. Share the bed, okay?”

The Masked Man’s captured forearm tensed rigidly, his exposed eyes fixed unblinking on Zhong Nian, silent.

Thinking he minded but was too shy to say, Zhong Nian added: “I sleep very well—no snoring, no moving once out. I’ll hug the wall, taking a tiny spot, won’t crowd you. If you still don’t want… well, either share the bed or I floor it. Your choice!”