Chapter 050 - The Derelict Hospital 02
This time, we landed in front of an especially dilapidated building.
To be honest, it was *really* rundown—worse even than the peeling sign at the amusement park in the third level.
The corners of the building and bricks on the wall were flaking off, exposing the pale gray cement underneath. The green paint below was also smeared and peeling.
Faintly visible on the surrounding wall were faded red slogans:
“Receive treatment. Start a new life.”
“Overcome addiction. Embrace truth, goodness, and beauty.”
“Obey, be filial, love life. Praise and glorify the great mentor.”
I scanned the area but didn’t immediately enter the building. Instead, I circled around it, observing carefully.
On the shaded side, years—maybe decades—of creeping ivy had completely covered the walls, the leaves clinging tightly around the windows.
Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. Turning slightly, I caught a figure in my peripheral vision.
It was another player—No. 76, I think?
He walked over with a friendly smile.
“I got here before you. Took a stroll up that nearby hill too. There’s a school not far from here.
And this,” he pointed at the building, “seems to be a hospital.
Weird, huh? A school and hospital next to each other.”
“Mm.” I nodded, still staring intently at the wall wrapped in ivy.
He might have mistaken my cold expression for disinterest. After saying a few more words and getting no response, he trudged off with a slight slump.
“I'll go scout around some more then.”
“Alright. Stay safe,” I replied more gently, giving a polite nod.
I lifted my head again and carefully counted the number of rooms behind the old blue-tinted windows.
After a while, someone else approached, but I couldn’t be bothered to turn around. I assumed it was another player.
To my surprise, this time there were two of them.
One of them ran over excitedly and jumped on my back, nearly knocking me off balance.
She chirped cheerfully, “Whatcha lookin’ at, bro!”
The other one dragged her down helplessly and patted my shoulder. “Ling.”
“What’s all this commotion?” I cast a glance at No. 137, motioning for her to stand properly.
Turning to Elliot, I asked, “Did you two arrive together?”
Elliot raised an eyebrow. “No. No. 25 and No. 9 are here too. The two of us came to find you and wandered around a bit. What are you looking at?”
“The wall,” I said. “And the people behind it.”
Elliot followed my gaze.
A light breeze rustled the leaves. The decaying building looked oddly peaceful—serene even.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Elliot asked in confusion, “Is there someone inside? Bosses or ghosts from the game?”
I recalled what I’d seen with my blank face earlier—
Behind one window stood a little boy.
His eyes were leaking blood, and his mouth was a gaping black void.
His skin was deathly pale, and his bloodless, cracked lips opened and closed, bubbling with crimson foam.
And in other windows, faint shadowy figures lingered—
More ghosts. Many of them.
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No. 137 followed my gaze and looked up.
It didn’t take long before her expression changed.
She stumbled backward and ducked behind me.
She shivered and stammered, “Bro, bro, big bro! That ghost is staring at me!”
I said, “Then stare back.”
She still looked scared. “Eep.”
Being more than a head taller than her, I gently rested my palm on her head, shielding her from the sight of the building.
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As I turned to leave, I nudged her along too.
“Let’s go. Don’t look anymore. We’ll head inside once everyone’s here.”
“We still have to go in?” she muttered.
“You can go now if you want.”
She shut her mouth right away.
The three of us walked side by side.
It felt like afternoon—the sunlight was warm and mellow.
From the concrete platform near the building, we could see the school in the distance.
It was clearly a school.
The environment there looked quite nice—a stark contrast to the ruin we were standing beside.
There were classrooms with desks, whitewashed buildings, corridors lined with bamboo, and even a playground with a flag raised and rubber tracks laid out.
Besides the school and this broken-down building, there was nothing else.
Only dusty plateaus and barren plains stretched out, dotted with hills that boxed us in.
No way to escape.
Still wearing the casual clothes from the last level, I found them easy to move in.
I decided to climb one of the hills.
It was easy—I made it to the top.
The wind was stronger up here, cold enough to seep into my bones.
Looking out over the landscape, I froze.
All I could see was white.
Blinding, endless white.
Before me lay mountains of bones.
Piles and piles of skeletal remains blanketed the land, blocking every path outward.
Some skeletons were large—adults.
Others small—children.
They were frozen mid-sprint, as if they’d all been trying to flee.
Like a flurry of snowflakes, they scattered in panic.
One of the skeletons sensed my gaze.
Its limbs remained still, but its skull twisted a full 180 degrees to face me.
Empty eye sockets bore into mine.
Its slack jaw opened and shut, releasing a chilling creepy cackling.
The grotesque sight sent a chill down my spine.
I didn’t stay long—I climbed back down.
No. 137 asked eagerly, “What did you see? Anything out there?”
“Snow,” I lied casually.
Her eyes lit up. “Snow? I wanna go see too!”
I quickly stopped her, my tone dulled by the hellish scene I had just witnessed.
“Don’t be silly. The ground’s covered in human bones. Skulls packed tight—no end in sight.”
She froze.
After a while, she quietly caught up and muttered,
“Why is it skeletons again… There was one in the last level too. That was creepy enough already.”
“It’s normal. Stuff from the previous stage often carries over into the next.”
I repeated what I’d figured out before.
I was about to say more when the system chime rang out loud and clear.
Accompanied by a low, whale-like hum from the deep sea, the voice announced:
“Delighted to see you all again. Welcome to the healing process.
Thirty-nine players remain in round four.
No players have quit.
All thirty-nine have arrived.
Now initiating round five.
Please enjoy your recovery journey—”
Before the sentence ended, the sky darkened.
Once bright and sunny, it suddenly turned pitch-black.
Thick clouds swept in, and a sinister crescent moon peeked through the cracks.
Inside the decrepit building, dim emergency lights flickered to life.
The weak glow of the emergency lights mingled with the green signs marking escape routes.
Bulbs blinked on and off, casting a gloomy, unsettling atmosphere.
Before long, everyone who had been scattered regrouped in front of the building.
Why? Simple.
It was the only place still lit in the darkness.
Only then did we notice the building had a half-broken string of red lights spelling out its name:
**Restwater Medical Recovery Center.**
A rehab center.
Or maybe… a hospital.
