Chapter 8

The Counselor in the Dark

At that moment, a voice suddenly called out from the end of the hallway on this floor:

“Tang Yu.”

It was the voice of his counselor.

Tang Yu froze for a second.
Then he heard the counselor say,

“I’ve been waiting here for you for a long time. Why are you only arriving now?”

“I—I ran into a little trouble on the way, sorry for keeping you waiting, teacher,” Tang Yu replied quickly.

“Alright, no need to explain. Come over here first,” the counselor urged.

Tang Yu hurriedly walked toward the corridor on that floor.
The hallway was pitch-dark, and he moved slowly.

“Don’t worry, you won’t trip over anything here,” the counselor said reassuringly.

Tang Yu took two cautious steps, then suddenly stopped.
Something felt wrong—

Why could the counselor recognize him so easily in this darkness from such a distance?

“Tang Yu, why aren’t you coming over?”
“Where are you?” the counselor asked.

Tang Yu held his breath.
He stood frozen on the spot, utterly dazed.

“Ding-dong~”

A sudden text alert rang through the deathly silence of the hallway, the sound jarringly loud.

Tang Yu slowly lowered his head.
On his phone screen was a message—

Counselor:
“Student Tang Yu, it’s so late already. You’re still not back in your dorm?”

…Wait.
If the counselor was right there in the hallway, why would he be texting him asking if he’d returned to the dorm?

Right—
His counselor always called him “Student Tang Yu,”
never just “Tang Yu.”

So, if the real counselor was texting him right now,
then who—or what—was the one calling to him from the hallway?

Tang Yu took a small step back.
At that moment, the voice from the darkness suddenly changed pitch,
growing louder and louder,
as if it was rushing toward him out of the shadows:

“Tang Yu! Why aren’t you coming over!”

An icy shiver exploded down Tang Yu’s spine.
He spun around in panic, fumbling to turn on his phone’s flashlight.
The beam fell on the floor number sign—
5th floor.

Almost there—!
Just one more floor to the sixth!

Tang Yu gripped the railing tightly and scrambled upward with everything he had.
When he finally reached the next landing,
a familiar voice drifted from the top of the stairs—

“Student Tang Yu, come here, quickly, come to your teacher.”

“Student Tang Yu?”
Was it the real counselor this time?

Tang Yu’s hand trembled so hard he almost dropped the phone.
The flashlight beam wavered and, for a split second, fell on the floor number sign again—

5.

A chill shot straight from his feet up to his scalp.
He was still on the fifth floor?!

“Student Tang Yu, why aren’t you coming over?
Why aren’t you coming over!
WHY AREN’T YOU COMING OVER!!”

The voice turned into a shrieking roar, flooding the entire corridor, crashing toward him like a wave.

Tang Yu’s legs went weak.
He ran without thinking, panic wiping out reason.
The flashlight beam swung wildly over the narrow stairs,
his footsteps pounding in rhythm with his racing heartbeat—
until suddenly, the light went out.

Battery at 2%.
Completely drained.

Darkness swallowed everything once again.

Tang Yu’s mind went blank.
Driven purely by instinct—the desperate will to live—
he did the one thing he always saved for last resort…

He took off his mask.

It was the same last-ditch tactic he used when cornered by perverts before—
but this time…

“Would a ghost… be a face-con?”

Every strange sound around him abruptly stopped.
The endless screams vanished as if erased.
Only his own thunderous heartbeat remained, deafening in the silence.

For two full seconds, Tang Yu just stood there in shock.
Then realization hit him like a slap—
he’d once again done something unbelievably stupid,
with a brain stat of only five points.

Cursing himself, he stumbled forward in the dark.
But his luck was running out—
his foot caught the edge of a step, and he pitched forward, tumbling down.

…He really should’ve begged one of the players to escort him to the dorm.

That regret had barely formed when a strong, cool hand suddenly caught his shoulder, halting his fall.

Tang Yu froze.
Through the dense darkness, he saw faint blue light rising before his eyes—
a glowing panel.

NPC — Li Sheng
[Intelligence]: 9
[Constitution]: 1
[Agility]: 9
[Strength]: 9
[Luck]: 8
[Charm]: 9

The hand that had steadied him loosened its grip.
Long, pale fingers shimmered faintly in the dark, brushing past his shoulder with a cool, clean scent that lingered briefly before fading.

The glowing panel floated upward—Li Sheng seemed to stand, then started up the stairs.

Tang Yu, still dazed, stared upward.
The panel tilted slightly, as if its owner had turned his head.
From the darkness came a voice—cold, steady, commanding:

“Follow me.”

The words hit like a bucket of ice water.
Tang Yu jolted, finally snapping out of his panic.
He scrambled to his feet and stumbled after the retreating blue light.

He must’ve just run into some ghost-bus-type phenomenon, he thought shakily.

And this Li Sheng—
his stats had more 9s than Shen Junxing’s.
That meant he was probably another being with mysterious powers.

The glowing panel moved quickly ahead.
Tang Yu couldn’t see much of anything, yet he hurried to keep up—
too fast, apparently, because before he realized it, he tripped again,
landing hard on his knee.

Sharp pain shot through him.
He hissed, clutching his leg.
If Shen Junxing were here, he’d probably be teasing him right now about how it was going to bruise purple by morning.

“Idiot.”

The cold voice came again from above.

Tang Yu’s head snapped up.
Li Sheng’s glowing panel had reappeared.

His pale fingers brushed lightly against the wall, feeling his way.
He was moving carefully, like someone who couldn’t see, yet his every motion was precise, controlled, almost too calm.

In that moment,
the way Tang Yu trembled and groped about in the dark—
limping, lost, small—
made him look utterly pitiful.

He looked pitiful.
And Li Sheng saw that.

Tang Yu thought this through very seriously.

If most people couldn’t see in the dark—
and Li Sheng had been able to catch his shoulder earlier—
then Li Sheng definitely could see him.

Which meant…
Li Sheng had seen his face.

Tang Yu blinked, then slowly lifted his gaze.
Following the angle of the glowing panel,
he looked toward where Li Sheng’s eyes probably were.

One, two, three…

When he reached three, the panel shifted—
Li Sheng had stepped down toward him.
His voice was colder than ever, clipped and impersonal:

“I’ll carry you.”

Tang Yu got to his feet, moving slowly, his tone polite but distant.

“Thank you, but it’s just a scratch. I can walk.”

Li Sheng’s panel moved again—
this time much more slowly,
matching Tang Yu’s limping pace so that he could follow easily.

Guided by Li Sheng, Tang Yu finally reached a dorm room.

“This is…”
“Room 623,” Li Sheng said.

So Li Sheng was his roommate.
It made sense now—his counselor must have told Li Sheng he’d be moving in tonight.
Since Tang Yu didn’t have a key, Li Sheng must’ve stayed awake waiting for him.

Dorm 6 housed only upperclassmen.
Tang Yu was the exception—when it came time to assign rooms, the others had filled up,
so he’d been placed here, in 623.

Thinking of that, Tang Yu said sincerely,
“Senior, thank you for helping me tonight. My name’s Tang Yu.”

Li Sheng didn’t respond.

The dorm was so quiet it felt lifeless.

Tang Yu didn’t mind.
He fumbled along the wall until he found the light switch.
He flipped it several times—nothing.
Li Sheng still didn’t move.
It must be lights-out already, Tang Yu thought.

So, still in darkness, he felt his way to an empty bed,
dragged his sore leg up, and clumsily climbed onto it.

As he sat down, a new problem struck him—
he hadn’t brought a blanket.

Too late to buy one now.
The only option was to borrow from Li Sheng.

But a blanket… was a personal thing.
Li Sheng might not be willing to share.

Tang Yu curled up on the hard mattress, wrapping his arms around his knees.
He rested his head against his uninjured leg,
resigning himself to make do for the night.

Suddenly—
thump!

A heavy sound landed right by his feet, making him jump.

“Are you mute or something?”
Li Sheng’s voice cut through the dark, cold and sharp.

Tang Yu reached out gingerly.
His hand brushed against something soft—

A folded quilt.

Silk, by the feel of it—smooth and cool to the touch.

“…Thank you, Senior.”

He couldn’t see a thing,
and the bedding ended up spread crookedly,
but it was enough.

Tang Yu slipped under the covers.
The blanket was dry, but oddly cold—
like it had just been taken from an air-conditioned room.
A faint, chilling fragrance clung to it.

No matter how he tried,
he couldn’t get it warm.

Still, after the night’s chaos and exhaustion,
Tang Yu eventually drifted into a fitful sleep,
wrapped in that faintly cold scent.

Morning sunlight flooded the dorm room.

When Tang Yu opened his eyes,
the first thing he saw was the strange curtain around the bed opposite his own—
white drapes beneath, black canopy above, and heavy hanging folds swaying slightly in the light.