There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

Xu Shuo used the remaining vegetables to make lunch for his sister once more before collapsing back onto the sofa, massaging his forehead with a tired hand.

However, this time after leaving the Scripted Murder Game, he wasn't as exhausted as the last.

It seems entering that game world really does consume spiritual power, no wonder the Player's Handbook has a twenty-four-hour time restriction. If someone addicted to gaming played frantically, they might just drop dead inside it.

Xu Shuo summoned the Player's Handbook, flipping past the pages for "Rainy Night Villa" and "The Fifth Hospital," and soon he came upon the words, "Resting. The next theatre will open its doors in 23 hours and 14 minutes."

Last night, he had stayed up working until the early hours, barely aware as sleep overtook him until noon and was then abruptly pulled into a countdown in his dreams by the game.

It seems he would have to regulate his sleep schedule after this.

Xu Shuo yawned, rising to freshen up.

After he'd gotten ready and joined his sister at the dining table, Xu Xi glanced at him and indifferently said, "Next time don't exhaust yourself like this, otherwise I won't be able to afford the rent for a two-bedroom apartment."

"Don't worry, I won't drop dead," Xu Shuo, accustomed to his sister's veiled sharp tongue, took a bite of shredded potatoes and asked, "When are you heading back to school tomorrow?"

"There's evening self-study. I'll leave after lunch."

"I could drop you off, then."

"Aren't you busy these next couple of days?"

"True, then I won't drop you off."

Xu Xi: "..."

The dining table soon fell silent, leaving only the sounds of utensils clinking.

Xu Xi wasn't much of a talker and ate slowly. By the time Xu Shuo had quickly finished his lunch and was about to rush off to the company, she cast another probing glance at him.

That kind of silent, intense gaze almost felt like it had the ability to see through Xu Shuo's exterior to what lay inside.

The girl's wordless observation created a pressure that was difficult for people to handle and made her even more unapproachable, which was why aside from a close girlfriend, she scarcely had other friends.

Before leaving the house, Xu Shuo suddenly looked back and said, "By the way, I've got a lot on at the company today. I might not come back tonight."

Xu Xi nodded, "I'll hang out with Li."

After the siblings simply informed each other of their plans, the sound of the door closing came from the entryway. Xu Xi hung her head low, her thoughts unclear, with a subtle air of deflation.

She had wanted to ask him just now, but in the end, she didn't.

Lately, there was something off about her brother, an uncomfortable aura beginning to emanate from him.

…

Driving to the office building, Xu Shuo yawned all the way to his workspace.

As soon as he entered the company, Pei Sheng's annoying voice rang out, "I worry every day whether my boss is going to drop dead."

The workspace operated on a standard nine-to-five schedule, but as it was a small startup team of six, everyone was fairly close and comfortable with each other, so the rigid work hours were of little consequence.

As long as the work was done, it was all that mattered.

Xu Shuo had already sent over the game framework he had built the night before, and upon his arrival, the others were busy designing a new app, greeting him perfunctorily.

"So it's just you slacking off, then?" Xu Shuo teased him before settling down at his desk and booting up his laptop.

"How could that be? I'm busy working on the offline events. I've already arranged things with the decoration company and the game equipment suppliers for you. Plus, I've posted the recruitment ads," Pei Sheng listed off his accomplishments.

At that moment, Li Ziwen approached with the project plan from the previous night, and upon hearing the list of tasks, he looked to Xu Shuo and asked, "Are we going to run both offline and online operations? If so, our funds might fall short?"

Xu Shuo frowned slightly, "It would be tight with the studio's budget, I'll transfer some more from my personal account later on."

Li Ziwen nodded without further comment.

Although on the surface it was a startup team of six young men, in reality, Xu Shuo was the boss since he had single-handedly launched the workspace.

The other five were technically employees helping out this particular boss.

Only Pei Sheng was a wealthy second-generation with resources and influence. Initially lured in by Xu Shuo to invest and survive the toughest period, they eventually became a full-fledged team of six.

However, all except for Pei Sheng specialized in computer science or related fields, with Pei Sheng being the simplest salesperson in the studio.

Because sending him out had a bonus effect. After all, when the Pei Family scion personally handles your business, could you possibly decline?

The reason Pei Sheng was so willing, aside from being convinced by Xu Shuo, was because Xu Shuo had saved his life during one of his wild nights out, and that was also why the Pei Family allowed him to stay in this little studio.

"How can I ever repay the debt of saving my life, except to devote myself to you!"

Pei Sheng sidled up with a smug expression, excitedly saying, "Boss, since we're short on good scripts right now, I had an idea last night. The story would begin with a hero saving the damsel, and the female lead—"

"Rejected," Xu Shuo interrupted before he could finish, slightly irritated, "Go talk to Ziwen about it, don't bother me while I'm working."

Li Ziwen was responsible for project design, and script selection was also part of his tasks.

Upon hearing this, Pei Sheng turned toward the composed young man with glasses sitting beside him and immediately lost interest.

...

The surroundings finally quieted down, Xu Shuo got busy with some work, took a short break to have a sip of tea, and incidentally opened the Player's Handbook to take a look.

The handbook featured a forum function, which sometimes served as a way to kill time during breaks.

In that span of time, Xu Shuo found that he had acquired a few more fans, reaching double digits, but there was still not a single message in his inbox.

So, why exactly is there such a thing as fans?

As a system that seemed like a reincarnation space for Scripted Murder Games, it was designed just like the entertainment industry in the real world, with functionalities for posting discussions and even features for fans and followers.

After entering the "Square," he casually browsed the posts, and many people were still discussing the mysterious removal of "The Fifth Hospital" script, and judging by the heated discussion, it seemed to be a topic that could be talked about joyfully for several days.

The people here, just like netizens, loved to gossip and tap away on keyboards.

No difference from the real world.

One just didn't know if those who had played the same Scripted Murder Game as him still had any chance to meet in the real world?

However, with billions of people worldwide, the odds were probably not too high.

As Xu Shuo thought about it, he idly scrolled through posts, and suddenly he saw a reply that was gradually rising in heat.

[I was at the scene! I was really at the scene! I played a patient, and the temporal chaos in that Scripted Murder Game nearly drove me insane! It's not that I played the game, the game played me!]

The reply also came with a screenshot of the Performed Scripts, where "The Fifth Hospital" script was indicated as "Blocked," confirming that he had indeed participated.

Although his participation didn't necessarily mean it was the particular game with the bug, at least he had played the script.

The replies to this particular post had already stacked up to hundreds of layers.

Xu Shuo slightly raised his eyebrows, wondering if he had really encountered a player from the same script.

He clicked on the reply to view the comments within the thread, where the excited player briefly described how he, as a patient, was tormented by the hospital and couldn't complete the tasks even if it killed him.

In other people's comments, some were blasting him, while others were skeptical.

Xu Shuo patiently read through each response, and gradually he pieced together some information.

In previous performances of "The Fifth Hospital" Scripted Murder Game, the number of players was fixed at five, and there were also five main quests, which showed no problems.

The key to completing this script was for the players, who were opposing each other, to complete more than 50% of the main quests together before Doctor Chen Chu murdered Patient No. 13, triggering a countdown timer in the game.

Subsequently, the hospital's time would reset, everything going back to the beginning, and any previously completed quests would be erased. The next half an hour was the final showdown time for the players.

Simple, right? Just like clearing a game level!

The hardest part was figuring out how to get opposing players to work together to complete half of the main quests without knowing, triggering a game countdown timer that would not be reset by time.

But the players roasting the original poster pointed out the most critical fact: The Fifth Hospital script had no temporal chaos!

Xu Shuo stroked his chin, thought of Luo Kun, who was almost driven crazy, and how even as an NPC, he noticed the world's time looping and was secretly manipulating time points.

Could it be that this guy was the bug in the script?

It indeed was a huge bug. Poor Patient No. 8 didn't even know how many times he had run out of the hospital only to be pulled back by Luo Kun's temporal chaos.

No wonder his Resentment Energy was so enormous.

Xu Shuo looked somewhat amusedly at the original poster of the reply.

From the poster's fragmented words, he guessed that this player claiming to have participated in that script must have played the role of Patient No. 8, Tao Tao.

The little girl who was killed by Doctor Chu.

Xu Shuo casually clicked into the person's user profile, but the information available appeared to be quite limited, such as the most important details like the player's skill items and performance points couldn't be seen.

The "Performed Scripts" section was accessible, though.

In this person's list of Performed Scripts, "The Fifth Hospital" was not there, as it seemed that other players couldn't see the scripts in a blocked status.

However, there were seven other scripts that the player had participated in listed there.

He looked like an experienced player, right?

But then, why did he seem so naive and innocent in the hospital?

Xu Shuo tentatively clicked on one of the scripts the person had participated in, and quickly, the player window popped up, starting the playback of the script "Dancer in the Dark."

It was the familiar eerie background music with character portraits and introductions. After the opening credits, a gloomy dance studio appeared on the screen.

Were players' participated scripts available for anyone to watch?

Xu Shuo's lips curled into an interested smile. He adjusted his office chair to a more comfortable position and then focused on watching the movie that began to play in mid-air.

A movie that didn't require a screen.