There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

At that moment, a chill suddenly gripped her heart!

The female journalist maintained her posture of flipping through files without moving. She stared fixedly at the words "Task Completed," and after a long, rigid pause, slowly turned her head like a mechanical toy falling out of sync.

A few meters away, by the first bookshelf near the office desk, the female social worker was engrossed in reading a novel.

She had not looked at the girl for long, almost instantly shifting her gaze away, but her heart had started uncontrollably racing.

The executor of side task three was the female social worker. Originally, the other party had breached the rules of "The Painting on the Wall" before the task was even completed, which was strange enough.

If there was an explanation before, why then had the task mysteriously completed itself now?

What's more important was that the female social worker had no reaction at all!

In this situation, there's only one reason left, this female social worker, she doesn't know their task details at all!

She's not the original social worker!

Realizing this fact, the female journalist shivered, feeling as if she were pricked by dense needles, her entire body breaking out in goosebumps, and she was scared to the point of numbness in her scalp!

If the social worker wasn't a social worker, then who was she?

And within this eerie orphanage, besides those six and a half people who came from outside, were there others present?

And those present... were they even human?

The female journalist was in a mess of thoughts, and her entire mind became somewhat disordered.

For whenever she thought about how her vision had been deceived, and the person beside her was not the original one, an uncontrollable unknown fear would surge in her heart.

She even thought of the illusion she had seen in the corridor after being deceived by Lina.

Perhaps that distorted monster, was the true face of the female social worker?

Or maybe, she never left the rule she had initially fallen into, and now she was simply in a new "Rule Space."

Perhaps what she sees and touches now might all be fake.

There were countless possibilities.

But there was only one life.

Thinking about her life, the active mind of the female journalist suddenly calmed down quite a bit. She glanced again at the girl not far away, feeling she should not scare the snake by beating the grass.

At least so far, this thing didn't seem to have attacked her.

So she needed to figure out what exactly had happened.

The journalist thought carefully, and then casually spoke, "By the way, the thing you were doing before, what exactly was it?"

As her voice fell, the scene became abruptly silent.

It was as if a stone had dropped into still water causing negligible ripples, and the stone eventually sank quietly into the unfathomable depths of the gloomy pond, shrouded in a thick darkness.

An oppressive and suffocating atmosphere began to spread.

The female social worker who was reading by the shelf stopped her page-turning motion and looked up, facing her.

The girl still had an innocent, faint smile on her face. Her figure was outlined by the moonlight, and those black pupils stared straight at her.

The archive room was quiet, save for the increasingly intense heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump... Her heart pounded like thunder!

The fingers of the female journalist gripping the folder tightened slightly, her face gradually stiffened, and her lashes trembled as she lowered her gaze.

It seemed...

She had acted rashly again.

...

Yes.

She was just reading a book, just doing research, why would a normal person suddenly bring up a topic that had long passed without any warning?

Unless there was some kind of new development in that topic, like dominoes causing a chain reaction, making the person who broached the issue realize there was something wrong.

Like, for instance, her companion, who she thought was aiming for the same goal, wasn't the companion she understood at all.

Or, that she had clearly seen the anomaly and had prepared to deal with it.

And that question was nothing more than a lure.

The social worker closed her book, and across five rows of bookshelves, she turned towards the journalist by the last row of shelves with a gentle smile.

Then, she stuffed the book back into the shelf and walked over.

As she moved, the journalist was so startled that her hair stood on end, and she instinctively used the folder to shield herself.

"You...!"

Whoosh!

The female journalist had just shouted out a word when she was suddenly silenced by the girl who had invaded her space.

Her reflexive attempt to dodge caused her back to slam against the bookshelf behind her. Books slightly shook, and she found herself trapped against the bookshelf by the girl who had instantly pressed up close to her, their bodies nearly touching.

The faux social worker raised a finger to her lips and gently chuckled, "Three, please do not yell or chase and make noise in the archive room. Stay quiet, okay~"

Her voice was very soft, barely more than a whisper in the journalist's ear, but the breath that brushed her face was warm.

It wasn't the chilly and eerie coldness one might expect.
Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

"Why is your heart beating so fast?"

Suddenly, the girl's fingers slid down her collarbone and spread open to press against her chest, her tone filled with innocent puzzlement.

In her daze, the journalist had an illusion that the soft, pale hand before her could at any moment pierce through her flesh and blood and gruesomely pluck out her heart.

Female Journalist: "!!!"

The recently calmed journalist was jolted back to reality and immediately grabbed the hand before her.

But her left hand was holding a folder, and her right hand was imprisoned against the wall by the girl's grasp, so when she moved her left hand, the heavy folder filled with papers dropped to the floor with a slap.

Rustle rustle—

Pages fluttered with inertia before stopping on the title page, gently waving in the air.

"Why are you so nervous?"

The social worker looked at her with a smile brimming with amusement and then bent down to pick up the folder from the floor.

And when she stood up, the right hand that had been held was also released.

The journalist retreated to the side of the large printer like she was avoiding a flood or a wild beast, her fingers pinching a translucent marble as she stared at the social worker with serious wariness.

"Who are you, really? What is your purpose in approaching me?" the journalist asked sternly, her face cold.

However, she had indeed been reminded earlier, so she kept her voice very low, turning it into a whisper in the quiet archive room.

The social worker put the folder back on the shelf and looked in the direction where the journalist was. Suddenly, she tilted her head.

This action made the journalist freeze.

Because it seemed that the social worker was looking past her, her focused pupils as if having discovered something interesting, revealing an intrigued expression.

What... what the hell?

Had something bizarre appeared behind her again?

"Shhhh..."

Just as she was panicking, the social worker gestured with her finger for silence and then whispered, "Sister, move away from there slowly, and make sure you don't bump into it."

The journalist was instantly more panicked!

She wanted to look back, but she was wary of the social worker in front of her. Yet, if she didn't look back, she wouldn't be able to clearly see what was happening behind her.

Moreover, she didn't even know if this was just a deceptive act by the social worker to distract her attention.

Her mind was once again in disarray. Her expression changed uncertainly, but she involuntarily shifted her feet slightly.

"Come out a little more," the social worker indicated.

"..." The journalist moved forward a bit more, her gaze still fixed on the social worker.

"Good, don't look back. We don't want to startle anything. Let's leave this area," the social worker nodded approvingly and then turned to walk out first.

She actually dared to turn her back on her...

Did she have the confidence that the journalist couldn't handle her?

The journalist hesitated, took a step forward, but immediately froze again.

That's not right!

Why should she obediently follow along?

And, what was really behind her?

As a surge of resistance to the abnormal situation rose in her, followed by a flood of curiosity, the journalist stood still, frowning intensely.

She couldn't just let herself be led around by the other person!

At the very least, she needed to know whether there really was something behind her, rather than naively believing whatever eerie things were said—after all, the social worker in front of her was an imposter!

With these thoughts, the journalist slightly turned her head, intending to take a quick glance at the printer.

However, as soon as she turned, her gaze locked onto a pair of crimson eyes.

Female Journalist: "..."

...