Chapter 22: A Single Blade Slays the Ghost

“Passengers, please take your seats. The next stop is ‘Underworld Crossroads Terminal.’ Passengers who wish to alight, please prepare to disembark in advance.”

The cold electronic announcement echoed through the bus as Route 444 officially departed.

Cotton Candy and Cat gripped the armrest tightly. “How is this possible? There’s supposed to be a five-minute safety period before the dungeon starts! And what’s with that ‘Ink-Stained Dust’ being level six? Why level six?”

One Slash Calms the Land cursed inwardly—another person who hadn’t paid attention during training.

The relevant authorities were the largest player organization in Huaguo, established primarily to maintain stability.

Anyone without a criminal record could join, regardless of background.

Consequently, the members were a mixed bunch.

Still, One Slash Calms the Land explained, “That’s a violator—someone who used special items to enter a low-level dungeon. To keep the game fair, Twilight Game increases the dungeon’s difficulty, and the lack of a five-minute safety period is part of that.”

“Though entering an E-level dungeon at level six isn’t a major violation. The lack of a safety communication window and reduction in player count are probably the harshest punishments.”

“Besides, we’re regular players; we won’t be targeted deliberately.”

The only thing was that the ID Ink-Stained Dust seemed vaguely familiar, though One Slash Calms the Land didn’t mention it. After all, the country was vast and players numerous. Skimming through the authorities’ player lists occasionally and now seeing the ID in person made the recognition unsurprising.

Cotton Candy and Cat’s mind sparked. She caught onto another crucial point: “The item allowing rule-breaking must be precious. So this person probably has heavy backing.”

One Slash Calms the Land hesitated before replying, “That’s right. Using forbidden means to enter a low-level dungeon is essentially a survival tactic.”

Cotton Candy and Cat couldn’t help but glance at Ink-Stained Dust. Because the dungeon had started too quickly, the latter had only managed to find a seat in the front section.

Hmm, quite handsome.

Though the skin was plain, the figure must be excellent.

I crafted this skin well—enhancing my original pure and beautiful look, making me seem delicate and pitiful, which should stir protective instincts.

After joining Twilight Game, Cotton Candy and Cat realized one truth:

Personal effort alone was useless; you had to latch onto someone influential, find a patron.

She had risen to level three by doing exactly that.

And she wasn’t a helpless damsel who’d do foolish things—so as long as she secured a patron, she would surely clear the quest safely.

Noticing Cotton Candy and Cat’s gaze, Ink-Stained Dust turned slightly and gave a faint smile.

Cotton Candy and Cat immediately lowered her head shyly but sneaked quick glances at him. Once caught, she dropped her gaze like a startled kitten.

This should work, right?

Hmph, I’ve honed this tactic so many times—no man can resist it.

One Slash Calms the Land watched the entire interaction, cursing Cotton Candy and Cat silently for being a flirt, yet he said nothing. After all, if she really managed to secure Ink-Stained Dust’s backing, it would surely help with clearing the dungeon.

So One Slash Calms the Land kept quiet.

Bai Ming leaned against the back row seat, ears slightly tilted.

With the four-point listening bonus granted by Bai Xiaozhi’s Notebook, he could clearly hear the whispered conversation between One Slash Calms the Land and Cotton Candy and Cat in front.

It wasn’t that Bai Ming stubbornly insisted on being a free player.

Major organizations equipped their members with exclusive identity credentials—special items created by the organizations and certified by the system.

If not for the production cost requiring some in-game currency, all four players from the Campus Daily authorities would have theirs.

Players above level three like One Slash Calms the Land and Cotton Candy and Cat naturally had their credentials.

Therefore, Bai Ming had no need to impersonate organization members.

What concerned him more was how to use the exemption granted by the “Impossible” power.

The duration of the Last Bus dungeon was far shorter than Campus Daily.

This meant he could only use Impossible’s special effect once in this dungeon.

Choosing the right immunity rule was crucial—it would determine his final success rating.

“Better not choose yet.”

“The first quest shouldn’t be difficult. Ordinary players can survive it, so there’s no reason I can’t. I’ll wait and see which rule threatens me the most, then select that one.”

“Route 444 has 14 stops. Dawn Hospital is stop eight—I still have plenty of time to think.”

“Underworld Crossroads Terminal has arrived. Passengers, please disembark from the rear door. Mind the gap while exiting.”

Creak—

The door slid open, and a horde of ghosts flooded in: swollen water ghosts dripping wet; hanged ghosts dragging long hemp ropes around their necks; disfigured heads with oozing brains—the jump ghosts.

They silently swarmed the bus, filling every empty seat with their stench of decay.

Yet still, one last passenger boarded—a woman clad in a blood-red wedding dress.

She stood in the center aisle, the crimson garment gleaming with a bloody hue under the pale light. Her wide sleeves drooped, revealing cyan-gray fingertips.

Her gaze settled on Ink-Stained Dust, who sat at the front.

“My... seat...”

The bridal veil fluttered as if stirred by an unseen wind; a red shadow flashed, and the ghost in the wedding dress appeared before Ink-Stained Dust.

“Annoying!”

A silver flash appeared. A katana sliced a crescent arc, decapitating the wedding ghost. The head struck the bus ceiling with a dull thud.

A draw-cut?

Impressive—he could kill a ghost rivaling Master Wang with a single strike.

Bai Ming watched the 90-centimeter short blade with interest. This had to be a skill. In reality, a draw-cut involved a broken blade used for surprise attacks targeting the abdomen—hardly that powerful.

Cotton Candy and Cat excitedly exclaimed, “One Slash kills ghosts—no wonder he’s a powerhouse.”

At this moment, Cotton Candy and Cat sat by the window, One Slash Calms the Land beside her on the aisle.

They had switched seats at the last stop.

Experienced players with several quests under their belt, they quickly noticed the rule forbidding seat changes while the bus was moving.

So they tried switching at the stops.

It didn’t matter if they were wrong; testing the rules was inevitable in Twilight Game.

Better to explore early than face danger later.

One Slash Calms the Land analyzed, “The wedding ghost is very strong. Without at least 15 agility, it’s hard to dodge in time. Yet Ink-Stained Dust still managed a clean headshot, splitting it in two—that’s typical level-six strength.”

Cotton Candy and Cat boasted, “I told you he’s a powerhouse.”

She looked captivated as she stared at Ink-Stained Dust.

He noticed again and smiled faintly.

One Slash Calms the Land continued, “He’s very perceptive, with high awareness.”

Shyly, Cotton Candy and Cat lowered her head like a little girl. “I don’t understand all that. I just know he’s amazing—much stronger than that level-three ‘No Heaven.’”

“Taking such an arrogant name, only to be a useless player.”

One Slash Calms the Land’s face darkened. His own name was pretty boastful.

Forget it, no point arguing with this silly woman. As long as we clear the dungeon, that’s all that matters.

Better to team with a level-six powerhouse than a level-three loser.

“Hey, how did you die?”

Bai Ming poked the arm of the passenger to his right. The girl in the school uniform turned her pale face.

“I don’t see a single scratch on you.”

Though Bai Ming didn’t mind his fellow passengers much, it was better without those strange creatures around.

The schoolgirl was stunned. She hadn’t expected Bai Ming to be so bold as to ask a ghost such a question.

She was silent for a moment, then rolled up her sleeve.

Bai Ming saw countless knife scars and suddenly understood. “So you slit your wrists. Don’t worry. As long as you sit next to me and keep those random ghosts away, I’ll make sure you arrive safely.”

The schoolgirl gave a hearty laugh; the grin tore to her ears, revealing a bloodthirsty maw that could swallow Bai Ming’s head.

Bai Ming smiled quietly as she finally closed her mouth and sat upright.

“Passengers, please take your seats. The next stop is ‘Unlit Alley.’ Passengers wishing to alight, please prepare in advance.”