The Canker Spirit raised a trembling hand, plunging it into its own throat to retrieve a rusted key, which it extended toward Holmes. "If trouble finds you, use this to unlock Room 801. The resident there... well, she's not one for pleasantries, but perhaps—just perhaps—she'll aid you as a favor to me." Louis' voice wavered with uncertainty, yet he understood the magnitude of Holmes' risk in breaching the wall and inciting the entire apartment's wrath. This meager offering was the only repayment within his power.
Holmes gave a rueful smile, his lips twitching. "Mate, 'perhaps' isn't exactly reassuring. The eighth-floor residents are all cut from the same cloth—nasty. If your goodwill doesn't hold, this isn't a reward—it's a death sentence!"
"I'm all too aware of the struggles to survive in this place," Louis rasped, his voice hoarse. "This is the extent of my ability. Should danger befall you, return to this room—my daughter will lend a hand." With these words, the Canker Spirit shuffled toward the doorway, the horde of rats that had clustered there scurrying after him.
As Holmes closed his fist around the key, a system prompt echoed in his mind:
DING! Congratulations! You have acquired the [Room 801 Key] as an additional mission reward.
Tip: Eighth-floor residents harbor intricate backstories and eccentric temperaments. Does this key portend fortune or misfortune?
Even the system delights in riddles, Holmes mused, finding the key unexpectedly heavy in his palm. Emily had previously mentioned that only four residents occupied the eighth floor, paying double the rent of other floors. Their associated quests were no less than A+ rank—each resident was akin to a mini-boss within the dungeon. He attempted to trigger his [All-Knowing] talent on the key, but no hidden information materialized.
"Quit daydreaming and get out," the red-haired girl snapped, rolling up her sleeves. "Nightfall is approaching, and I must start cleaning."
Holmes snapped back to reality, excused himself, and departed. "First, I get nothing, and now I'm stuck cleaning up this mess," the girl grumbled, though relief washed over her at not being expelled. Just then, she received a summons from the blood-stained wall, hurrying into the room to find the wall oozing an increased flow of blood. The mottled surface rippled, and the blood congealed to form two characters: "Thank you."
Upon returning to the corridor, Holmes found that the Canker Spirit had vanished, along with the horde of rats, leaving behind a trail of filth and stagnant water. "He left content, but what of me?" Holmes muttered, his head throbbing with frustration. A sudden chill ran down his spine—turning, he found the landlord standing directly behind him. Despite the old man's unassuming appearance, an indescribable aura of oppression emanated from him, like a bottomless abyss that inspired dread.
"Here's some good news and bad news. Which would you prefer to hear first?" The landlord squinted, his smile sending shivers down Holmes' spine.
Holmes paused before replying, "The good news."
"The good news is that those pesky rats have departed, so consider the mission completed."
No joy crossed Holmes' face. "And the bad news?"
"The bad news is that you chose the most disastrous method to complete it. The mission's rewards scarcely compensate for the breached wall and the ensuing chaos on the first floor."
This statement failed to rattle Holmes, who asked bluntly, "So, what form of compensation do you require?"
The landlord chuckled. "What could a penniless wretch like you, squatting in Room 404 and unable to pay rent, possibly offer? But you're sharp enough to know I wouldn't waste breath if you had no means to repay me." He paused, eyeing Holmes intently. "I'll give you a night mission. Complete it, and I'll overlook the matter of the wall."
A night mission—such tasks carried a mortality rate double that of daytime assignments! Holmes sought to dissuade the landlord: "But the apartment mandates all residents to rest at night. Perhaps we could reschedule for daytime?"
"Daytime won't suffice for this task. Don't think to deceive me—I know you possess a [Night Patrol Permit]." The landlord's smile turned menacing. "You have two choices: accept the mission, or I'll deliver you to the first-floor residents for them to deal with as they see fit. What's your decision, young man?"
Facing the landlord's seemingly benevolent gaze, Holmes forced a smile more painful than a grimace. "Does it look like I have a choice, sir?"
The landlord clapped Holmes on the shoulder. "I have high hopes for your abilities, young man. We're all residents of this apartment—shouldn't we each contribute to maintaining its environment? And don't feel indebted; complete this task to my satisfaction, and I'll gift you something special."
The more amiable the landlord appeared, the more uneasy Holmes grew. He decided to cut to the chase: "Sir, no beating around the bush—how many others have undertaken this night mission?"
"Eleven, thus far."
"Any survived?"
The landlord shook his head with a laugh. "Few have."
Holmes felt utterly drained. Is fate testing my luck, or is someone pulling the strings? He recalled that the day's mission had begun as a simple sachet delivery—one he could have completed easily, allowing him to survive another day in peace. But a mere glance at the corridor notice had plunged him into this dire situation. Truly, one should never meddle with trouble that doesn't concern them.
"Count your blessings—unlike those unfortunate souls, you're still breathing," the landlord remarked.
Curious, Holmes asked, "What became of the others?"
"Failed the mission—they were used to patch the walls."
"Then what exactly is this mission?" Holmes pressed, his voice low.
"You'll discover at midnight. Return to your room and rest. As for this mess," the landlord gestured around, "I'll have it cleaned. I don't often extend such courtesy to just anyone."
Holmes seized the opportunity to mention Jack: "That fellow Jack is capable—why not assign him the task?"
"You can't compare to him. He's committed no offenses, nor does he owe rent."
Holmes realized, "I see—you have leverage over me."
"Precisely," the landlord affirmed.
"Very well, I'll take my leave."
Holmes decided against prolonging the conversation—chit-chatting with a dungeon boss risked triggering another life-threatening mission. As he ascended the stairs, the landlord tapped his pipe, ashes falling to the floor. He called out into the corridor: "Time to work. Make haste—the night deepens."
In response to his voice, the corridor walls began to undulate, and from within, countless pale, glowing eyes emerged...
Back in Room 404, Holmes finally confirmed the mission's completion, greeted by a flurry of system prompts:
DING! Congratulations! You have completed the bulletin mission: Assisted in resolving the gutter plague and maintaining a habitable environment. +5% favorability with all residents.
DING! Due to improper mission completion methods, first-floor residents have collectively developed +15% malice toward you.
Bulletin mission rewards: 7-day 50% rent discount for Room 404, one [Rare Purple Treasure Chest].
Congratulations! You have obtained a [Talent Shard]. Current talent advancement progress: 1/3. Continue striving to collect more!
Two more shards needed? Holmes grimaced, feeling misled—nowhere had it been stated that three shards were required, leading him to believe one would suffice.
Shaking his head, Holmes examined the fluctuating favorability stats, feeling exasperated. After acting as the apartment's unpaid laborer, not a single word of thanks—only offended numerous residents. He couldn't fathom a better mission approach—without letting the Canker Spirit in, its grudge couldn't be resolved, and forced expulsion was impossible.
Thankfully, the mission rewards provided some consolation. Setting aside the treasure chest for later, he first returned to Room 404 to report to Grandma. Upon entering, a prompt appeared:
Congratulations! Due to your efforts in reducing Room 404's rent by 50% for seven days, [Mother] and [Grandma] recognize your maturity: +20% favorability toward you.
In the living room, Emily had already returned and was dining at the table. Seeing Holmes covered in filth, she barely recognized him, initially thinking a specter had intruded. Upon closer inspection, she exclaimed in astonishment: "You... went to deliver a sachet, didn't you? How did you end up in this state?"
"It's a long story—best to say I took an unfortunate dip in the gutter," Holmes replied wearily.
"Strange things are afoot on the first floor. Word has it some fool breached the apartment wall, flooding the corridor with filth and enraging the first-floor spirits. I bet that unlucky soul met a gruesome end! How can one person cause such catastrophic trouble?"
Holmes lacked the energy to explain, stripping off his soiled clothes as he headed for the bathroom. After cleaning up, he knocked on Grandma's door and entered.
"Grandma, the sachet was delivered—the landlord accepted it."
Seated on the bed, Grandma wore reading glasses as she knitted, exuding a kind and gentle aura. "Good to hear." She continued without looking up, "But you've landed yourself in a heap of trouble."
Holmes forced a smile, well aware that he had barely escaped one pitfall only to fall into another dug by the landlord. "It's only right to assist the apartment with chores—it's no trouble."
Grandma chuckled softly. "You're like a duck—even when fully cooked, your beak remains stubborn."
She set aside her knitting, gazing up at Holmes. "That landlord is cunning—he never makes a losing deal. This apartment may seem sturdy, standing firm in this world, but it's riddled with holes. He always finds a way to make you outsider residents fill them. He solved your first-floor mess, but rest assured, he's foisted an even worse task upon you. You never should have read that bulletin."
Holmes remained silent—regret served no purpose now.
"What task has he given you?"
"Unknown for now, only that it commences after midnight."
At the mention of midnight, Grandma shook her head. "A wretched assignment." She clearly knew more but chose not to elaborate, and Holmes wisely refrained from prying.
"Here—this sweater is hand-knitted for you. What do you think?" Grandma presented a maroon turtleneck cardigan, surprisingly stylish.
As Holmes took it, a hidden info prompt immediately appeared:
Congratulations! You have obtained the spooky item—[White Silk Specter's Sweater]. Can withstand three fatal spooky attacks and increases the player's spirit stat by 25%. (Higher spirit stats enhance resistance to spooky assimilation)
Hidden info: When the sweater is 95% damaged, it will trigger a backlash effect, causing a burning sensation.
"Backlash effect?" Holmes raised an eyebrow.
Grandma continued, "I added a special 'ingredient' to this sweater. If you encounter danger at night, the sweater will protect you, but only for a limited time. Use that time to save yourself."
Her words implicitly confirmed the mission's danger—she spoke in riddles, unaware that Holmes' [All-Knowing] talent had already decoded every nuance.
"I understand. I'll take my leave now."
Holmes accepted Grandma's extra reward and prepared to exit. Perhaps due to the accumulated favorability, Grandma added, "If trouble becomes inescapable, find a way to return home. Once inside, I can offer some assistance—though limited."
"Thank you, Grandma." Holmes nodded and left the room.
DING! Player has completed [Grandma]'s daily task. Current favorability with this spooky character: 45%.
Congratulations! You have triggered the "Grandparental Affection" favorability. Spooky Grandma has developed a protective instinct toward you. Within the bounds of Room 404, she will take action to protect you from danger or threats.
Please continue to strive and cultivate more intimate relationships!
DING! You have received today's dinner from Spooky Grandma. She has prepared a nutritious meal for you—collect it in the kitchen.
Entering the kitchen, Holmes found a steaming clay pot on the stove. Opening it, white steam rose from a hearty meat soup. Black floated on the oily surface—the aroma was enticing, but the appearance was off-putting.
"Whatever—if it doesn't kill me, it's good," Holmes decided, carrying the pot out.
Emily eyed the soup, her eyes widening slightly.
"Care to join me?" Holmes offered.
"No, thanks... This is your special dinner. Drinking it might affect my favorability with Spooky Grandma. But how did you manage this? I've completed seven daily tasks for her and never received a homemade dinner. You've only interacted with her for a day—this is incredible!"
Holmes wasn't overly surprised. Reducing the room's rent by half for seven days made a homemade dinner a reasonable reward. However, contemplating the unknown midnight mission, he couldn't shake the feeling that Grandma's meal might be a farewell feast.
He quickly dismissed such ominous thoughts.
Since Emily declined, Holmes didn't press further. Ravenously hungry, he served himself a bowl and began eating. The black meat was unknown, but it tasted sour—not unpleasant. It seemed to have been stewed for hours, melting in his mouth with a single bite.
DING! Notification: Due to consuming the special nutritious meal, your body has absorbed extra nutrients, and all status values have returned to full capacity.
+1 Spooky Strength, +1 Spooky Strength...
Witnessing the green status prompts, Holmes wolfed down the meal.
"You must have been starving," Emily observed.
Holmes wiped his mouth, feeling his body brimming with energy. "Nutritious meals are about replenishment—taste is secondary."
Emily suddenly remembered something, retrieving a flashlight from her pocket and handing it to Holmes. "This is for you, from Spooky Mother."
"Why give me this?"
"Don't ask me—I have no idea. It's unheard of for someone who's never interacted with Spooky Mother to receive an equipment reward. This is the first time I've seen such a thing."
"She only said to take this tonight. If you lose your way in the abyss, turn on the flashlight—its beam will guide you home."
Holmes fell deep into thought. Both Spooky Mother and Grandma had warned him about the night—how dangerous was this mission?
Accepting the flashlight, Holmes received an equipment prompt:
Congratulations! You have obtained the equipment—[Wandering Soul Flashlight].
That night, Holmes opened the [Rare Purple Treasure Chest]:
Successfully opened the Rare Purple Treasure Chest. Congratulations! You have obtained the spooky item—[Blood Coffin Nails] x 3. (Rare quality) (Single-use)
Description: Nails capable of sealing Blood-Clothed Specters. Their value is self-evident; no further explanation is provided.
At midnight, the landlord arrived, handing Holmes a key. "Clean the rooftop water tank. Simple task." His smile promised danger.
Holmes took the key, knowing this "simple task" would be anything but. The rooftop awaited, its shadows hiding unknown horrors.