Romantic Hotel

The next morning, there was no sunlight, only the unchanging dim yellow light inside the hotel.

The announcement came on time, and the lobby manager's standardized voice announced the new task: to handle the "special romantic requests" of certain travelers.

This means that candidates will need to enter guest rooms and interact directly with travelers who are behaving more strangely.

"Mr. Li from room 301 wanted 999 red roses to be placed in his room, and requested that the petals cover the entire floor."

"Ms. Wang from room 212 wants a 'still beating heart' as a token of her love."

"The twin brothers in room 105 asked the staff to play hide-and-seek with them. It had to be done in the hotel's public areas, and the staff couldn't be found more than three times."

The demands are incredibly diverse, many skirting the edges of the rules or even directly crossing forbidden zones. For example, the "heart" is clearly related to Rule Seven. And playing hide-and-seek might violate the rule against disturbing passengers outside of service hours, or involve other unknown dangers.

The pressure surged.

The Bai Xu team regrouped. Faced with these vague demands, Bai Xu knew that they could no longer rely solely on the surface-level rules.

"I need to verify the authenticity of a rule to determine the basis of our actions," Bai Xu said to his team members, his tone as calm as ever.

He chose Rule Eight, which currently seems likely to be frequently violated and has seemingly clear consequences: [Rule Eight: Mirrors in hotels are safe; you can safely groom yourself. However, if your reflection in the mirror does not match your actions, break the mirror immediately.]

After a moment of silence, Bai Xu's face paled slightly, as if he had expended a lot of mental energy. He opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and certain: "Rule Eight, the first half of the sentence is [incorrect]: the mirrors in the hotel are extremely dangerous; they are absolutely not safe."

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines, but their faces did not show any panic; instead, their eyes became even more wary.

"What about the second half? Does the inconsistency in the images break the rule?" Hong Yuan pressed, her brows furrowing slightly.

"The second half of the sentence... cannot be directly judged, but combined with the error in the first half, breaking the mirror is very likely to trigger more terrible consequences, rather than solving the crisis," Bai Xu quickly analyzed. "Remember, never trust the image in the mirror, and never try to break it. If you see anything unusual, immediately look away and move away from the mirror. This could be some kind of mental pollution or a medium for inducing an attack."

The order was quickly relayed to all members of the seventh sequence.

Shortly afterward, member A (an experienced and mentally strong veteran) was on his way to the third floor to carry out a mission when he passed a full-length mirror embedded in the corridor wall.

Out of habit, he subconsciously glanced at the mirror. The image in the mirror was initially normal, showing his slightly tired but calm face and the empty corridor behind him.

However, just as he was about to look away, the corners of "his" mouth in the mirror slowly twitched upwards, revealing a malicious and twisted smile that was completely opposite to his calm expression.

Immediately afterwards, behind "him," the air rippled like water, and the silhouette of a woman in a white nightgown, with long hair covering her face and skin the color of ashen plaster, gradually appeared, gradually becoming more prominent. The woman raised a bloodless hand, her movements eerily gentle, as if she wanted to pass through the mirror and place it on his shoulder.

There were no sudden, startling events; the entire process carried a viscous, slow, and corrosive force.

Member A's body tensed instantly, not out of fear, but as an instinctive reaction to a highly dangerous source of pollution.

He felt a cold, slippery thought trying to creep into his mind along his gaze, and he seemed to hear a faint whisper, stirring his reason. The idea of ​​breaking the mirror rose up like a venomous snake, tempting him to take what seemed to be the right action according to the "rules".

Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead. He bit his tongue hard, the sharp pain mixed with Bai Xu's clear warning, temporarily suppressing the strange temptation.

He forced his eyes to move, his gaze shifting away from the mirror with an almost tearing force. His steps didn't falter or quicken; he simply walked forward more steadily and swiftly, turning the corner of the corridor and completely escaping the mirror's field of vision.

Leaning against the wall behind the corner, he closed his eyes and took two deep breaths to calm the lingering chill and faint dizziness in his mind. "Damn," he cursed under his breath, his voice filled with suppressed frustration, "it's some kind of mental pollution, I almost fell for it."

After this news spread, all members of the Seventh Sequence changed their perception of mirrors from "potential danger" to "known high-risk source of mental pollution." Those seemingly ordinary decorative mirrors in the hotel became, in their eyes, forbidden zones requiring absolute vigilance and places they should never look directly at unless absolutely necessary.

The days are spent in tension, stress, and dealing with all sorts of strange demands.

The candidates racked their brains, and most of the members of the Seventh Sequence, relying on their experience and calm judgment, completed the task without major incident, or found ways to avoid the most dangerous parts. However, among the randomly selected candidates, a few offended guests due to misunderstandings, mishandling, or simply bad luck, and were quietly taken away by the lobby manager, disappearing into the depths of the corridor. The occasional short screams echoing through the hotel served as a reminder of the price of survival.

Night fell again.

As the clock approached midnight, an invisible, unsettling pressure enveloped the entire hotel.

[Rule Nine: At midnight, the hotel will play a romantic concerto. All staff must return to their dormitories and, regardless of what they hear, must not open their doors or windows.]

The loudspeakers didn't ring, but a melodious, lingering violin concerto, yet with a hint of absurdity and dissonance deep within, began to resonate precisely in every corner of the hotel. The music seemed to have a hook, attempting to stir and amplify any emotional fluctuation in the listener's heart.

All the candidates had already returned to their dormitories and locked their doors.

Bai Xu and You Ying stayed in the room, both sitting on the bed, eyes closed, concentrating on their own methods to stabilize their minds and resist the pervasive intrusion of the music.

The darkness outside the window seemed to grow even thicker, with rustling crawling and scraping sounds appearing and disappearing intermittently. Then, calls arose, their voices shifting unpredictably—sometimes gentle as a lover's whisper, sometimes plaintive as a sob, and sometimes the urgent plea for help from a familiar voice.

"Open the window...look at me..."

"It's so cold... let me go inside and warm up..."

"Bai Xu! Something's wrong outside! Open the door!" (Imitating You Ying's voice)

"Shadow, emergency! Open the door and meet up immediately!" (Imitating Bai Xu's voice)

The sound precisely captures the possible gaps in people's hearts and penetrates them.

"I'm so annoyed," Shadow opened his eyes, which were bloodshot, but more so from the impatience of being bothered. "Like flies."

Bai Xu didn't open his eyes, only his brows furrowed slightly, his breathing remaining steady. "Guard your mind, treat them as noise." His voice was low and calm.

However, not everyone possesses their mindset and experience.

Inside a double room, a random participant is driven to the brink of collapse by the sound of someone outside the window repeatedly calling the name of his loved one (the voice is mimicked so perfectly).

"It's Ah Xiu...it really is Ah Xiu! She's crying! Something terrible must have happened to her!" His eyes were unfocused as he struggled to get up.

His roommate held him down tightly: "That's fake! The rules say you can't open the window! Wake up!"

"No! I can hear it! It's her! Let me see! Just open a crack!" As an extremely realistic and desperate scream rang out, the contestant suddenly burst out with strength, pushed aside his companion, rushed to the window, pulled open the curtains, and pushed open the window!

"Come back!" His companion's roar mingled with a muffled groan that seemed to be abruptly cut off.

Outside the window, there was only rolling, suffocating darkness.

A bluish-gray arm, stained with water and bearing eerie patterns, reached in like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, precisely covering the mouth and nose of the person opening the window, silently and swiftly dragging him into the darkness. The window slammed shut automatically, locking itself in place, as if everything that had just happened was an illusion, leaving only the ashen-faced, cold-sweat-covered companion in the room, and the lingering, mocking sigh of a call from outside the window.

……

Hongyuan and her roommate stayed in their room. The concerto and the sounds outside the window continued uninterrupted.

Suddenly, a series of urgent knocks sounded on the door, accompanied by a panicked voice, trembling with tears in its eyes—it was Hongyuan's roommate's voice: "Hongyuan! Sister Hongyuan! Open the door! Help me! Something is chasing me outside! Let me in!"

Hong Yuan's eyes narrowed, and she instantly looked at the bed opposite her—her roommate was sitting on the bed with a pale face, her hands clenched tightly, and her lips pressed into a thin line, but she was definitely in the room! Their eyes met, and they both saw the coldness in each other's eyes.

The "thing" outside the door has an extremely terrifying ability to imitate.

"Sister Hongyuan! Please! It's grabbed me! Ah—!" The voice outside the door suddenly turned shrill, accompanied by a more violent thud, as if something was really under attack.

Hong Yuan took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mixture of irritation and coldness.

Instead of approaching the door, she leaned back against the headboard, took out a pair of earplugs from her small bag (a basic necessity), carefully inserted them into her ears, and then simply pulled the blanket over her head, completely isolating herself from the outside world.

No matter how you change, I remain unmoved. However, this constant harassment and passive defense left her with a burning anger.

That night, the "thing" outside the door relentlessly changed its voice and words, trying to pry open the door.

Despite being shielded by earplugs and a blanket, Hongyuan could still feel a faint vibration and a penetrating mental disturbance. She barely slept all night, her mind consumed by a state of high alert and agitation.

The next day arrived amidst even greater exhaustion and mounting, invisible pressure. The number of survivors dwindled further. Beneath the hotel's romantic facade, a brutal selection process for survival was accelerating.