"I only pulled the drawer open a crack—and I swear, something grabbed me! I nearly died!" Carson shrieked, pale with fear, fleeing in a blind panic.
"You should count yourself lucky," Eric murmured, a trace of envy in her tone. She recounted what had happened to Piper.
But Carson's words echoed in her mind. He had been *lured* into opening the freezer—
Then what about her?
Had she truly chosen that particular drawer, that particular corpse, of her own will?
A chill ran down her spine. Eric shook the thought away. *What's done is done.*
A hand reached toward her. It was Piper, offering a healing kit. Unable to speak, she chose to express her gratitude in tangible form.
"No need." Eric gently pushed it back. It hadn't cost her much to lend a hand—just a bit of effort. She didn't want to accept a supernatural item in return.
Seeing Piper insist, Eric said firmly, "Take it back. I really don't need anything in return."
Recognizing Eric's resolve, Piper finally withdrew her hand, silently mouthing another *thank you*.
Seeing their success, the other players followed suit, bringing their offerings and entering the morgue. The space was eerily quiet—even with the doors open, not a sound escaped.
One by one, players emerged carrying corpses. But some never returned.
Three players, in the end, never made it out.
Only Eric had extra offerings, but she had already used them to save Piper—there was nothing more she could do.
She helped carry a corpse for Ellice, who had lost a leg. She and Jax had been working together—Jax supporting her as they retrieved the body from the freezer and brought it to the door. Jax could make two trips inside the morgue, but hauling the corpse onto the bus twice was unrealistic. With her hands free, Eric volunteered.
Ellice thanked Eric and then Jax, hopping awkwardly along with the others, occasionally stumbling. The sound of her body hitting the floor was painful just to hear.
"You go help her—I've got this," Carson said, taking the body bag from Eric and slinging it onto his own back in one fluid motion.
With her hands freed, Eric turned back to support Ellice.
"Thank you so much. When we get back to the transfer station, I'll treat you to a meal," Ellice said gratefully. She knew she was a burden now, and was touched by their willingness to help.
"I'll find you a stick for a crutch," Eric offered. The supermarket still held plenty of brooms and random sticks she'd collected—she intended to grab one for Ellice.
Ellice's eyes reddened. "Okay."
The bus now held a dozen corpses in body bags, casting a grim pall over those who'd stayed behind.
Eric doubted their unease stemmed only from sharing a ride with the dead.
Visiting the incense shop might've seemed like a gamble at first, but by the time they reached the morgue, she was sure: this *was* the key to survival.
Offerings bought in the incense shop in exchange for a corpse in the morgue—what came next was clearly linked to the dead.
Every stop on Bus 144 was deliberately connected.
Players who had skipped the incense shop initially consoled themselves, thinking they had avoided wasting effort. But now, seeing corpses retrieved through offerings, the truth was painfully obvious.
Some players cast greedy, calculating glances at the bodies. Eric had already stored hers in the supermarket—there was no stealing from her. Jax and the others, weakened from the incense shop's toll, now pooled their corpses and guarded them together.
After helping Ellice onto the bus, Eric pretended to return to the hospital and came back with a stick to serve as her crutch. Ellice sat quietly, using the iron bus floor to grind the tip to a point. The grating of wood against metal was sharp and jarring.
Tension was mounting on the bus. The driver seemed utterly unfazed, driving on smoothly. Eric could feel it—like a taut string between two factions, ready to snap at any moment.
Though she could hide her corpse in the supermarket, she wasn't truly safe. If Jax's group was attacked, she couldn't remain uninvolved.
To survive, some people would gladly become monsters.
*And once, she had been one too.*
Conflict loomed like a stormcloud, but no one dared make the first move.
"Have you heard a rumor?" Eric said suddenly, addressing Isabel beside her.
Isabel blinked, surprised, then played along. "What kind of rumor?"
"They say if you kill another player in this game, the next paranormal instance will send something after you for revenge." Eric smiled faintly, but her gaze was calm, cold. "I've never tried it. Have any of you?"
Isabel shook her head, astonished. "Never heard of it. First time, honestly."
"I've heard of it," Jax added, "but never tested it."
Eric smiled. "Well then, perhaps today's the day we find out."
No one missed the warning in her voice.
Some had heard of this before—the temptation to act dulled.
Others scoffed, thinking Eric was bluffing.
But the tension, poised on a knife's edge moments ago, began to ease.
Most of the players who'd skipped the incense shop or morgue were cautious by nature—reluctant to take risks. Eric's words left a mark in their minds. Even if greed still lingered, it would take time to spark back into action.
Besides, there were more players than corpses. Even if they stole them, there wouldn't be enough to go around.
In this strange equilibrium, the bus reached its next stop. Eric exhaled. No one had attacked mid-journey—that peace was all she needed.
The doors hissed open.
The woman in white, followed by the mother and son, got off with their corpses.
Then—chaos.
"Now!"
Without warning, several players launched an attack. Eric immediately jumped down and followed the NPCs. As she landed, the inside of the bus dissolved into brawling chaos.
She looked back once, then turned and chased after the NPCs.
Only then did she glance around to see where they had arrived.
The bold red characters on the gate confirmed her guess: **Crematorium.**
*Of course.* From collecting corpses in the morgue to burning them here—
The next stop would surely be a cemetery.
The crematorium was deserted. Not even a ghost stirred.
She followed the NPCs into the incineration chamber.
The woman in white opened a furnace and placed the body inside. So did the mother and son. Eric followed suit without hesitation. Time was of the essence—any delay could lead to disaster.
She pushed the corpse in, shut the door, flipped the switch.
The furnace roared to life.
A digital timer lit up: **00:40:00**
The NPCs sat before their furnaces. Eric joined them.
The screen ticked down to **00:38:46** as she surveyed the room.
The chamber was large. A dozen glass-paned windows lined the walls.
Even if she locked the doors and shut every window, it wouldn't keep the others out.
She sighed.
The danger of this stop wasn't the dungeon itself—it was the other players.
Burning a body took forty minutes. In that time, *anything* could happen.
Until the ashes were in hand, nothing was guaranteed.
Seventy-two players. Fewer than a third had corpses. The fight for control would be brutal.
Eric took out weapons from her supermarket, preparing herself. She wouldn't commit murder in a paranormal dungeon and seal her own doom—but she wouldn't let herself be slaughtered either.
Back on the bus, a vicious brawl had erupted.
Neutral players fled. Jax and his group fought to protect the bodies, but the numbers were against them.
Several corpses were stolen in the chaos. Everyone bore injuries.
One player, soaked in blood, barely made it ten steps before another tackled him.
Alliances fractured. Those who stole bodies turned on each other in a frenzy for possession.
One player was thrown violently to the ground. His head struck a jagged rock. It pierced his temple—he died before he could even purchase a healing kit.
The attacker froze, horrified. He hadn't known about the *no killing* rule. Panic flared, and he grabbed the corpse to flee—only for someone else to leap on him.
In the end, the melee produced winners and losers.
Some secured corpses. Others defended theirs.
The driver remained impassive, watching blood spill and alliances collapse.
Ten minutes later, Eric saw the second player enter the crematorium.
Isabel gave her a nod. "Do we place the body inside?"
Eric nodded. "Yes. That's what they did."
Isabel chose a furnace, placed her corpse inside, then slumped to the floor, wiping blood from her brow.
More players trickled in, bruised, battered, ash-covered.
Eric recognized some who had *not* been to the morgue. Her gaze was cold and unreadable. She let them see she was not to be trifled with.
Tension rose once more. Eric drew her handgun—only she knew it had a single bullet left. One was all she needed to keep others at bay.
"You can't do this!" someone shouted. "You avoided the first two challenges—now you want to steal what we earned?"
"It's survival," another snapped. "If I don't take it, someone else will."
The shouting escalated. Eric noticed Carson enter, face twisted with malice, a corpse slung over his shoulder. Ellice looked on, her expression conflicted.
Eric understood.
Carson's desire to help carry the body had been sincere.
But so was his desire—
To *take it* for himself.