Newbie's Quest: Awaiting Challenge
Chapter 61: The Vanishing Players

In the center of the room, a bubbling hot pot exuded steam, its red broth simmering vigorously amidst the lively din of the dining hall. Yet, the words of Emily Johnson cast a chilling pall over the room's warmth.

"A room 201?" Ethan Walker furrowed his brow in confusion. "Does that mean there's only one room, room 201, or does it imply they only entered rooms with odd numbers?"

"It's just 201. Regardless of the team members' claims of going to 'room 202' or 'let's check out room 205,' in the eyes of the live-stream audience, they were perpetually entering room 201."

"Is the arrangement inside the same? If not, it might indicate different rooms."

"That's precisely the most bizarre aspect. According to the team members, each room they entered appeared distinct, with varying furnishings and hospital beds. However, to the viewers, it seemed as though they were repeatedly entering the same room."

Ethan Walker remained silent, his left hand gripping chopsticks, his meat half-cooked and neglected, as if lost in deep contemplation.

Emily Johnson took a sip of plain water, mindful of her physique as a celebrity player, abstaining from alcohol and even sugary drinks unless on special occasions.

"Did the Emerald Tempest Guild's first team realize they were going in circles? I heard James Mitchell and Isabella Martínez eventually made it to the operating room," Walker inquired.

"It wasn't exactly a realization on their part," Johnson replied. "There was a loud shattering noise during the live stream, like a glass door or mirror breaking. That was when the viewers noticed a change in the scene; the team had progressed to room 220 and found the key to the third floor. If not for that noise, it seemed the live stream's audience couldn't notice their messages, and the Emerald Tempest Guild's management couldn't contact those inside the instance."

"So you're saying..." Walker placed the chopstick-held meat onto his plate, yet made no move to eat it. "The interference was only in the live stream's visuals, but the actual scenes experienced by the players inside were real?"

He had initially thought it was a spatial fold, similar to his last cinema-themed instance, where failing to follow the correct method led to a loop.

But now, it seemed like a magnetic field or something else was affecting the live stream. If the actual scenes hadn't changed...

"No, no, it's not that simple," Johnson shook his head. "Apart from the anomalies in the live stream, no one who didn't clear this instance has survived, except for Henrik Jensen's attempt."

Walker was nonchalant. "Isn't that normal? If an S-ranked instance isn't cleared, it usually results in total annihilation, unless some other means are used to forcefully create an exit."

"The kind you're talking about usually involves death by a boss or trap, leaving behind bodies. But in this instance, players who didn't clear simply vanished."

"Vanished?"

Johnson explained that players who explored the Seventh Hospital instance disappeared silently during the live stream. Often, the camera would follow someone around a corner, but as it turned, only an empty corridor remained. "More frightening than screams and bloodshed is this silent 'disappearance," he said solemnly. "Because you have no idea what you're up against."

Without a clear sight of your enemy, how could you possibly strategize against it?

Throughout the conversation, Walker listened intently, occasionally asking probing questions. After Johnson had relayed nearly all he knew, Walker began to ponder.

He had dreamt of the Seventh Hospital instance once and even simulated it. In his first attempt, he usually didn't give his all, focusing instead on exploring the map and understanding the instance's background.

Each instance in the White Tower has its own story, especially those ranked S or higher. They possess clear timelines and narratives. If one delves deep enough, the histories of the NPCs and even the bosses can be unravelled.

Ethan Walker's approach to clearing instances was mainly through straightforward progression, a method born from his weariness of repeatedly sifting through narratives in simulation. Nonetheless, he still dedicated effort to the minutiae, understanding that grasping the background of an instance was key to unraveling many of its clues.

As usual, he initiated the simulation mode, releasing only Little Red Riding Hood. Jane, with her destructive and unpredictable tendencies, was too prone to chaos. In contrast, Red was more restrained. Standing at the fence gate of the Seventh Hospital, Walker was intent on entering, but Red suddenly grasped his hand. The force of her restraint was gentle, but Walker noticed it immediately. This was unusual.

Red was a reticent subordinate, obedient and typically passive unless assigned a task. Without instructions, she behaved like a well-mannered little girl, staying close to Walker, not wandering or touching things aimlessly, and refraining from idle chatter. But this time, her action to obstruct was out of character. Perhaps, as a former NPC of the White Tower, she sensed something dreadful in the instance and wished to spare Walker the risk. The thought that something in there could pose a challenge to Red was, indeed, terrifying.

Walker recalled feeling an unusual sensation at that moment, but he still patted the young girl's head and firmly grasped her icy hand. The rusted gate creaked open before them, revealing a gap just wide enough to pass through. A desolate and dilapidated aura engulfed them as they entered. A cold breeze swept through, sending a few maple leaves tumbling across the barren garden path.

Though many of the White Tower's instances were rooted in horror and the bizarre, Walker had experienced several of the more terrifying ones. His ease in clearing levels didn't mean those instances lacked intense horror.

Since surviving a thousand attempts in the Little Red Riding Hood instance, Walker's mental fortitude had grown exceptionally robust. Few things could frighten him now. Yet, standing before the Seventh Hospital, adorned with withered ivy, it wasn't fear that arose within him, but an overwhelming sense of desolation that he couldn't suppress. The place felt profoundly empty, despite the surrounding decay and lifelessness.

He and Red slowly made their way into the hospital's main entrance. Inside, signs of decay were everywhere. Medical records and prescription slips littered the floor, and the reception desk's computer screen was still lit, but no one was around. Walker casually flipped through a stack of medical records left at the desk, not expecting to replace anything significant. The records varied, belonging to both men and women of different ages, mostly related to mental health issues. He couldn't decipher the scribbled handwriting, only making out the printed parts.

It was meant to be a brief glance, but as Walker leafed through the pages, he suddenly stopped and flipped back. His usually impassive eyes widened in shock, for on one of the pages, he saw his own name.