Chapter 13
I reached the twenty-seventh floor.
The resident was a woman in a jarring clash of corporate attire and a kitchen apron, holding the hand of a
boy whose body had been flattened into a pulp.
I knew their tragedy without the newspaper in my pocket.
The boy had died in a car accident at school. His mother had rushed to the scene straight from the office,
still in her uniform.
Trolls snapped photos of her grief, labeling her a whore and shaming her for wearing makeup while her son
lay dead on the asphalt.
Overwhelmed by the venomous harassment, the grieving mother eventually leapt to her death.
Now, in this twisted afterlife, she and her child were finally reunited.
I opened my mouth to offer some comfort, but the terrifying little boy spoke first in a sweet, childish lisp.
“It is okay. I already fixed Mommy. If I see those bad people again, I am going to kill every single one of
them.”
“I can tell you a secret. The player who moved into our apartment three days ago was actually one of the men who bullied Mommy online.”
“He begged right before I killed him. He swore he only shared the post and never wrote the bad words himself. I killed him anyway. Sharing makes him an accomplice.”
“I know Mommy wears makeup because her job needs it. But as long as she is happy, she is Wonder Woman to me, even if she cooks dinner in her work clothes.”
I looked at the woman’s disheveled outfit and reached out to gently pat the boy’s head.
“You are a superhero too, little guy.”
“Your superpower is making your mother smile.”
The invisible chat feed dissolved into tears.
[I knew it. Alice is a saint! She is my goddess!]
[This is heartbreaking. Alice really is an angel sent to redeem them all.]
I continued my descent, encountering entities that felt both strange and familiar.
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There was a boy who died tragically searching for his birth parents, and a teenager beaten to death by school bullies. I listened to their stories, offering what peace I could.
Over the next two days, I treated this survival game like a corporate grind.
Every time I returned to the thirtieth floor, Meg would pounce on me like a clingy kitten, nuzzling her face
against mine. “Mommy, I missed you so much.”
My heart practically melted every time.
Not to be outdone, the headless boss would prepare dinner and hold my hand with a look of brooding jealousy. “I missed you too, you know,” he would whisper.
This tug-of-war for my affection is pure bliss.
I could get used to this life.
The chat feed was understandably salty.
[This girl has all the luck. Let me switch places with her for just two days!]
[Dream on. You would not last twenty-four hours on the thirtieth floor.]
The sixth day arrived. I also reached the tenth floor.
By this point, I had collected a thick stack of visitor passes.
The bosses below the twentieth floor were less terrifying, and I even collected two surviving players along
the way.
They were too terrified to challenge me.
Honestly, they did not need to lift a finger since the neighbors were incredibly enthusiastic, practically shoving their passes into my hands the moment I knocked.
The survivors trailed behind me as we worked our way down to the tenth floor.
Chat feed: [With the Four Terrors of the penthouse watching, who would dare refuse her?]
Our party of three stepped onto the tenth floor and froze.
A seven-foot abomination with a man’s body and a rotting dog’s head stood guard in the corridor. The door
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behind him gaped open, revealing a room littered with the bleached bones of previous players.
The hound-man silently handed us two passes.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the beast suddenly leaned down, bringing his snout uncomfortably close to
my face.
Despite my poor vision, I could clearly see shreds of meat and human fingers stuck between his jagged
teeth.
“Listen. Do not think I fear you just because those four upstairs protect you.”
“I have my standards.”
“No player has ever survived a stay on the tenth floor.”
“Out of respect for your patrons, I will grant passes to the humans I find tolerable, but do not push your luck.”
I fell silent.
I firmly suppressed the trembling of the butcher knife in my hand and whispered a soothing command.
“Easy now. We do not lower ourselves to bark back at curs.”
The knife let out an angry hum but settled down.
The vendetta between this monster and humanity likely stemmed from the cruelty of the living world.
Humans slaughter cats and dogs for sport, so in this world, a dog-headed executioner exists on the tenth floor to slaughter humans.
In a twisted way, it sounded completely fair.
“When will this killing end?” I asked.
“When will humans stop slaughtering animals?” the monster retorted.
The tension shattered as a bloodcurdling scream echoed from the floor below.
The beast grinned hideously. “See? You despicable humans kill other species, and then you turn around and butcher your own kind.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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