The corridor wasn't long, only about ten ters, but each turn led to similar branching hallways. The two branching paths at each intersection diverged differently—one turning left, the other right.
Lin Ye quickly navigated several turns, only to find more corridors of varying lengths ahead. So passages ended at forks leading in different directions.
This was an endless maze.
Even if this maze could accommodate 10 billion people simultaneously, Lin Ye couldn't fathom its complexity.
But that didn't concern him much. He didn't need to escape the maze, just find necessary supplies here.
After half an hour exploring nine red rooms, Lin Ye had only collected a few red coins, a red key, and so usable scraps—no trace of the treasure chest ntioned in the system information.
Exploring further, he suddenly discovered a locked door.
The door looked identical to others, except for the additional red lock.
The lock's color blended with the door so well that Lin Ye might have missed it if he hadn't checked each room thodically.
Knocking produced no response—the place remained as silent as ruins, with no sounds except his own movents.
Examining the keyhole, Lin Ye first tried picking it with a wire salvaged from garbage. After a minute of failed attempts, he realized this wasn't an ordinary chanical lock.
Using the red key, the door opened and the key vanished. Inside was a room identical in size to others, but instead of trash, it contained shelves.
A storage room.
Lin Ye inspected the shelves—mostly empty, but he found a few remaining items:
Two bottles of red liquid, a tal pendant, and seven hard cards.
The liquid filled sealed glass bottles, approximately 400ml each.
The pendant was a silver cross of equal length and width, wearable around the neck.
The cards had dark red backs with intricate patterns resembling those on the red coins, featuring three distinct designs across seven cards.
Lin Ye packed everything into his salvaged backpack. Though uncertain of their use, he took them anyway.
As he shouldered the pack to leave, footsteps echoed from the corridor's far end—not his entry direction.
The faint sounds were only audible because of the absolute silence, giving him early warning.
Lin Ye quietly closed the door, leaving just enough gap to observe the hallway.
Soon, the footsteps neared, and a figure passed by:
A blood-red desiccated corpse, half its skull missing, the remaining brain matter dried out—impossible to tell what animated it.
After the corpse passed, Lin Ye calculated the distance, swung the door open, and fired at its remaining skull.
Bang!
The gunshot reverberated through the halls. The bullet struck true, knocking the blood-corpse down.
This was Lin Ye's first ti firing a gun, yet the motion felt familiar—like he'd done it countless tis before.
Suppressing this thought, he kept his distance, watching cautiously. With half its head gone, he couldn't be sure if the remaining part was vital.
Initially motionless, the corpse suddenly convulsed violently after two seconds—like an epileptic seizure.
Bloody limbs sprouted from its back like spider legs, propping up its body. Its abdon split open as desiccated flesh and organs regained vitality, blossoming outward into new grotesque formations.
Lin Ye fired three more shots—chest, lower left abdon, lower right abdon—each hitting different areas.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He refused to believe this monster had no weak points. He just hadn't found them yet.
The creature launched itself frog-like from the ground, rebounding off the ceiling to cover seven ters in two leaps.
Lin Ye calmly retreated a full step, then emptied his magazine into the lunging monster.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
At this range, volu mattered more than accuracy.
With the clip spent, Lin Ye released the pistol, sidestepped the follow-up pounce by instinct, and drew his waist dagger instead.
The monster's montum carried it crashing into the far wall where it twitched briefly before going still.
Apparently, bullets still worked.
Lin Ye remained poised, guarding against resurrection. Throughout the encounter, his movents had been economical, his composure unshaken.
Compared to simulator missions, a jumping corpse was practically friendly company.
After several minutes, Lin Ye approached the remains.
The corpse had lost all human semblance, retaining only scattered fragnts of its original form.
Lin Ye began dissecting it with his dagger.
The creature's anatomy was a chaotic amalgamation. Initially curious about its animation chanism, Lin Ye eventually abandoned theorizing to study its bizarre tissue structures instead.
Ten minutes later, satisfied, he sheathed the dagger and continued exploring.
From the monster, he retrieved a keychain holding five identical red keys—apparently just door tokens unrelated to actual locks.
Henceforth, Lin Ye skipped unlocked rooms—most contained only garbage, with occasional coins or single keys as "drops."
Nine rooms for one key was terrible odds.
He needed to find a treasure chest quickly to check the shelter upgrade requirents.
Navigating corridors swiftly, Lin Ye spun his empty pistol absently. The gunplay had felt instinctive, like decades of muscle mory.
This was likely residual experience from simulating Kenneth—Lin Ye had never handled firearms before, making such proficiency impossible.
But as D-Class personnel, Kenneth must have had specialized skills to qualify.
Soon, Lin Ye found another locked red door. No response to knocking. Using one key, he entered.
The room's layout matched others, but instead of trash, a red wooden chest occupied the center.
Unlocked, Lin Ye carefully pried it open with his dagger before leaping back.
Contrary to expectations, no dangers erged—no explosive traps, no blood-corpse ambush.
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