Lin Xiao stood by the window, her gaze passing over the rusted railings to land on the empty concrete ground below. Her fingers tapped lightly against the window frame, the rhythm slow and regular, as if counting down to some unknown deadline.
The dormitory door behind her had just closed, and the girl who had recently moved into Room 304 had not come back to disturb her. For this new resident, adapting to the environment was clearly more important than socializing.
"Detection complete: Room B-304 has only one remaining occupant."
The line of garbled text from the attendance machine surfaced in her mind. Lin Xiao narrowed her eyes, attempting to complete the logic of the second half. If the system determined that only one person remained in the dormitory, the next instruction would inevitably be to allow relocation. The rule was simple: occupants of single-person dormitories possessed the privilege of seeking new quarters, provided that the new dormitory could accommodate two survivors.
The girl encountered at the stairwell had lost her roommate, and the original occupant of Room 304 had just had her key and card taken by Lin Xiao. Two lonely people should have naturally become each other's salvation.
But Lin Xiao keenly sensed something wrong.
In this enclosed space called the Nasta Zone, those who had lived alone for extended periods always carried an aura of death about them. They were like components assimilated by their environment, their numbness toward death far exceeding that of ordinary people. Logically, such people should be drawn to their own kind, yet reality was precisely the opposite—they were obsessed with finding new dormitories where "both could survive," even if it meant being bound to a stranger.
This pathological obsession with "two-person survival" reminded Lin Xiao of a carefully designed trap.
She lowered her gaze, a chill like autumn frost settling over her features. This place was more like a prison than the elevator instance had been, imprisoning not just the body but also gradually eroding the boundaries of thought. She could not voice these conjectures to anyone; she could only silently piece together the fragments of truth.
Two people now lived in Room 304, roommates to each other, and neither could move away.
If she wanted to break this dead loop, to obtain the so-called "qualification to move to a new dormitory," the only way was—
"Bang!"
A dull crash tore through the afternoon stillness.
Lin Xiao's gaze was instinctively drawn toward the window. An object falling from above bloomed into a gruesome flower of blood on the concrete, red and white intermingling, a shocking sight.
She could not make out the specific identity of the mangled flesh on the ground, but in the instant of the fall, she had briefly caught sight of that face.
It was the girl who had just walked into Room 304.
Merely minutes after gaining a roommate, she immediately lost that roommate.
And the person who had originally lived in Room 304, because of this sudden death, once again became a "single occupant," regaining the ticket to leave this place.
Lin Xiao stood with arms crossed, expressionless as she observed the tragedy below. What she saw was not merely death, but the state in which death had occurred.
In the instant gravity had pulled the body whistling downward, the girl's eyeballs had already completely bulged from their sockets, connected only by a few fragile blood vessels. Brain matter mixed with blood had gushed from the cracks in her skull, covering her entire face.
Before hitting the ground, she was already a corpse.
Lin Xiao withdrew her gaze, raised her hand to tap her temples twice, then turned to look at Wang Ruofei, who had remained silent throughout.
"There's something I need your help with."
Wang Ruofei paused. "What is it?"
"I need to take a look at your temporary identification card."
Hearing this request, Wang Ruofei instinctively reached into her pocket, but the moment her fingertips touched the card, her movements suddenly stalled.
An indescribable resistance rose in her heart. As an easygoing student from the Inner City District, Wang Ruofei was usually generous with friends—not just a company-issued identification card, but even if Lin Xiao wanted to borrow her bank card, she would typically hand it over without hesitation.
But in this moment, she hesitated.
In less than two days, this job that provided food and lodging had implanted such a deep sense of belonging in her. She did not want to let go of this card that proved her employee identity, even temporarily.
Lin Xiao quietly watched her classmate, her eyes calm as if observing a sleepwalker, offering no urge to hurry.
Wang Ruofei's motion of retrieving the card became slow and hesitant, as if the card and pocket were joined by strong adhesive. Finally, with some reluctance, she handed the identification card to Lin Xiao.
Lin Xiao accepted the card and examined it.
Based on previous experience examining corpses, the temporary identification cards held by different people were identical in design, with the only difference being the printed information. But this was precisely what struck her as inconsistent.
When she had first taken out her own identification card from the bag, Lin Xiao clearly remembered a distinct raised texture at the bottom where the code was printed. Yet the fragments of cards she had later collected from the dead had bottoms smooth as mirrors.
She ran her fingers over the position where the code was printed on Wang Ruofei's card.
The sensation transmitted to her fingertips was completely flat.
Neither the front nor the back had any raised marks.
Questions rapidly connected in her mind: What did the difference in details at the bottom of the two cards mean? Was her card special? Or was she special? Or perhaps—
A notion quietly surfaced. Lin Xiao suddenly took Wang Ruofei's hand and pressed the identification card back into it.
"You try," Lin Xiao said, staring into her eyes. "See if you can feel the raised marks at the bottom of the card."
Her voice was soft, carrying a casual probing tone.
Perhaps influenced by Lin Xiao's demeanor, Wang Ruofei replied in an equally casual tone, as if discussing the weather: "I can feel them. Aren't those the employee information numbers?"
The instant she received the answer, the corner of Lin Xiao's mouth lifted slightly, her voice gentle. "Perhaps."
The mystery was solved.
What was special was not the card, but the person holding it. Every identification card bore a line of "hidden engraving" that only the owner could perceive.
Lin Xiao took back both cards, closed her eyes, and relied entirely on touch to distinguish those minute traces. She had previously assumed those raised marks were numerical codes, but upon careful examination now, she discovered the patterns were far more intricate and complex, conveying information beyond a string of numbers—
"After perceiving danger, proceed to Abandoned Industrial Zone 17."
A single line, abrupt and without context, as incongruous as a lifesaving note secretly passed during a crucial examination.
Although Lin Xiao had never cheated before, she knew very well that such a note must never be discovered by the proctor.
...
Lunch break ended, and employees who had eaten gradually returned to the living quarters.
Lin Xiao carefully placed the identification card back into Wang Ruofei's pocket, then gathered usable supplies from the dormitory and system backpack, slinging them over her shoulder before calling her classmate to head out.
The zone had arranged no new tasks after lunch. Wang Ruofei, lacking any objective, had been following Lin Xiao aimlessly until now, which had slowed the decline of her sanity level considerably—she currently appeared relatively normal. Even so, Lin Xiao did not think leaving her alone in the dormitory was a safe course of action.
Too many intern employees had died in the living quarters, which meant there were many