Upon discerning Eric's face, Aaron blurted out, "What happened to your face? Are you all right?"
Before venturing out that afternoon, Eric had meticulously shaved all the hair from her face. Yet mutation extended beyond the monkey-like fur sprouting from her body; her skin itself was altered, rendering her visage uncanny even after the hair removal. Moreover, she had deliberately darkened her entire complexion with ink.
Although David remained trapped within the Glass Walkway dungeon, should fortune favor him with an early reset, Eric had taken precautions. If he harbored ill will and sought her out, the clue "the girl who looks like a monkey" would no longer correspond to her current appearance.
"No worries. I had a minor injury before," Eric responded curtly.
The two were strangers; a simple greeting sufficed, prompting Aaron to withdraw his head sheepishly.
Eric's eyes remained fixed outside the window, surveying the street while her ears pricked to the sounds beyond the restroom.
Approximately ten minutes into the dungeon, Eric's keen gaze caught an anomaly outside. The pavement abruptly fissured, revealing a long, sinuous black crack. Pedestrians gasped in alarm.
Just as Eric anticipated an earthquake scenario, wisps of grayish-black mist began to seep from the rupture.
"What is that?" A bystander curiously reached out, only to emit a piercing cry of agony.
"Ah!"
"Call an ambulance, quick!"
"Help! Save me!"
"Oh my god, he's melting!"
Holding her breath, Eric witnessed the horrified NPC's hand begin to dissolve upon contact with the ominous fog, the decay spreading inch by inch across their body. The NPC howled in torment on the ground, while panicked passersby fled in terror from the encroaching vapor.
"What on earth is happening?!" Aaron climbed up again, alarmed.
"We must leave immediately. A black mist has appeared in the streets—anyone who touches it dissolves," Eric confirmed the gravity of the dungeon's peril before rising to push open the door and charge outside.
Aaron hesitated briefly but, before departing, dashed into the last restroom stall to peer out the window. The street below had been engulfed by the noxious fog, and terrified NPCs fled. She spotted one who was already half-melted, writhing on the ground, unable even to scream. Mere seconds had elapsed since the warnings began—and yet the devastation was rapid and merciless.
Comprehending the deadly potency of the toxic mist, Aaron hastened to flee as well.
Within the restaurant, oblivious diners betrayed looks of bewildered astonishment. Eric seized their attention with a shout: "Hey! White shirt! Baseball cap! Red dress! Follow me! You're all doomed—if you want to know where you are, come with me!"
Having spoken, she resumed sprinting.
The three individuals she named froze briefly, glancing down at their attire in confusion.
"You mean me? Right?" the man in the white shirt hesitated, eyeing the baseball-capped girl nearby. The lady in the red dress silently bent down to retrieve her high heels and quietly trailed Eric.
"Just keep up first," the baseball-capped girl urged hastily.
"Wait for me!" the others called out.
As the trio pursued Eric's fleeing form, they crossed paths with Aaron.
Together, the five hurried out of the restaurant, leaving the remaining patrons baffled—until a guest seated at a prime window table accidentally tipped over a glass of red wine.
"There's something wrong outside!" the startled guest exclaimed, disregarding the red wine staining his clothes, and pointed nervously toward the window. "A toxic fog is consuming people—bodies are melting!"
Eric dashed from the restaurant, quickly seeking the emergency exit stairs. Deciding to descend on foot proved wise; as she sped down the stairwell, word of the street's calamity had begun to spread through the building.
The toxic fog had appeared suddenly and spread with terrifying speed. Upstairs, terrified guests watching through windows soon realized the mist was advancing, carried by the wind toward their own building.
Panic erupted instantaneously; tables and chairs overturned in chaos, crowds jostled and pushed as everyone scrambled to escape. Elevators quickly overloaded, doors wedged shut by desperate occupants. Those upstairs found themselves trapped, while those below grew impatient awaiting the stalled lifts.
More and more hurried toward the emergency stairwells.
Aaron's pace was swift; she left the three newcomers far behind. Upon reaching the first floor, she spotted Eric's figure idling and hurried over. "Eric! We need to go!"
"There's still time. I'm waiting for those newcomers," Eric explained. She had surveyed the street outside and determined that the entrance was momentarily safe; the fog had originated behind the building and required more time to reach their location.
"All right. Can you drive?" Aaron asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Let's team up. I don't know how to drive," Aaron proposed. "I'll handle finding a vehicle."
Eric found the plan agreeable and nodded.
The three newcomers finally arrived, all gasping for breath.
Eric wasted no time in explanation: "You all realize you are already dead—whether by accident or illness. This is the Infinite Escape dungeon game, where completing dungeons earns you points that can be exchanged for resurrection opportunities. This is your novice dungeon; upon completion, you will receive the game manual to study in detail. The current dungeon involves a toxic fog—avoid contact, lest you be corroded. The mist is advancing from the street behind this building. Hurry and flee!"
Without affording the newcomers a moment for questions, she swiftly turned and departed.
Aaron closely followed, their figures soon vanishing at the entrance. The woman in the red dress trailed without hesitation, as did the girl with the baseball cap—who knew the red-dressed woman, a famed young entrepreneur featured in the news. Trusting her was undoubtedly prudent.
The man in the white shirt, however, remained bewildered. At fifty-one, confined to a monotonous work environment and accustomed solely to television news broadcasts, his receptiveness to new information was limited. Eric's concise yet information-dense words left him utterly perplexed, his mind tangled beyond comprehension.
Lost in confusion, he was jolted by a sudden commotion behind him—the panicked first wave of customers streaming downstairs! Stumbling from the rush, he quickly regained composure and followed the crowd out, only to find Eric and the others gone in an instant. Clenching his teeth, he pondered Eric's words as he ran away from the building.
Meanwhile, Eric had already sprinted a hundred meters in the opposite direction from the building. Glancing sideways, she halted.
"What's wrong?" Aaron asked.
"Car," Eric replied, eyes fixed on a vehicle recently parked by the roadside. The driver remained inside, engaged in a phone call, keys still in the ignition.
Aaron blinked in surprise. "You're planning to steal it outright?"
"Where else would we find a car? We're unfamiliar with this place and have no money." Eric turned to her. "Are you in?"
"...I'm in!"
Without hesitation, they split up to act.
Aaron approached the car, feigning a fall. Her beauty now served as a potent tool; furrowing brows and gasping in pain easily stirred sympathy. The driver opened the door, concerned: "Are you all right, miss? Need help—"
Eric sprang from the side, swiftly subduing the man, while Aaron recovered and delivered a heavy slap to the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious.
"Load him in! Quick, let's go!" Aaron exclaimed gleefully.
Together they shoved the driver into the rear seat. Aaron commandeered the driver's seat, expertly igniting the engine.
Eric took the passenger seat and spotted the two newcomers arriving. The red-dressed woman hurried over. "May I join you? After completing this dungeon, I can share the points I earn!"
"I—I can share mine too!" the baseball-capped girl added.
Eric's gaze fell to the shoes of the red-dressed woman before she asked Aaron, "I'll let them ride if we each get a healing kit. What do you think?"
"I agree. All right, get in!" Aaron nodded.
The red-dressed woman sighed in relief, opened the door, and climbed in. She and the baseball-capped girl helped the unconscious driver into the seat, creating space.
"What about the other person?" Eric inquired.
"No idea. He didn't follow us," replied the red-dressed woman.
"Let's go!" Aaron pressed the accelerator.
Centered on that street, the toxic fog radiated outward. Though they secured a vehicle, swift escape through the congested commercial district was far from assured.
The car radio crackled with emergency news: "…The toxic fog is spreading in the commercial district, highly corrosive. Residents are urged to evacuate promptly and follow instructions…"
"Beep! Beep! Beep!" Aaron honked insistently, but the traffic ahead remained motionless.
Frustrated, she growled, "The broadcast moved too fast; chaos erupted before we left the district. I hate traffic jams!"
Gradually the cars shifted, and Aaron deftly maneuvered through the gaps.
Suddenly, the driver regained consciousness. Cold and ruthless, he unexpectedly produced a knife and slashed at the red-dressed woman.
"Ah!" she cried out.
The driver lunged at the baseball-capped girl with the blade. Hearing the commotion, Eric lunged toward the back seat and clamped down on him.
"Die!" the driver roared, exerting tremendous strength. He flung Eric aside, causing her head to strike the car roof.
"What is wrong with this NPC?!" Aaron gasped, alarmed. Surrounded by vehicles behind them, she could neither stop nor assist.
None had anticipated this madness. Eric had planned to soothe him upon awakening—perhaps by playing the broadcast or showing him the fog—to postpone the issue of their hijacking until after escaping.
She never expected his first act upon waking would be stabbing.
The woman in the red dress clutched her abdomen in pain, inching aside. The baseball-capped girl screamed, raising her foot to kick the driver. Eric's head struck the roof, darkness clouding her vision for a moment. Gritting her teeth, she braced one hand on the seat and with the other reached for the cup holder behind her, seizing a thermos and striking the driver's head with it forcefully.
At that very instant, the driver's knife pierced Eric's abdomen.
Clang!
The blade fell, and the thermos slipped from her grasp.
Pressing her hand against the wound, she sank back into her seat, drawing shallow breaths as blood stained her athletic wear.
"Eric, are you all right? Is everyone in the back okay?" the red-dressed woman croaked weakly.
"No one's dead. We're alive," she replied.
The baseball-capped girl, tears streaming, retrieved the thermos and struck the driver's head repeatedly—two blows before breaking down, clutching her face in sobs.