Qin Nan checked into a standard room, number 3907.

He examined the entire room. It was no different from an ordinary hotel room, but there was one notable item—on the bedside table lay a script titled *Death Crew*.

The script contained a brief synopsis: *Death Crew* tells the story of a film crew that, while shooting a film, faces multiple accidents, with crew members dying one after another, until the filming is completed with no survivors left.

A strange thought flickered through Qin Nan's mind.

He continued flipping through the script.

The script was disorganized, arranged by shooting scenes. The first scene was set in the hotel where the crew members were staying, clearly stating—Room 3909.

Next door to him.

At the sight of this number, Qin Nan's pupils instinctively constricted.

Just a coincidence, he thought.

His gaze returned to the script.

In the first scene, a crew member dies in bed, the cause being an explosion of the ceiling lamp. While sleeping, the lamp shatters and cuts into the carotid artery, resulting in massive blood loss and death.

As a well-known figure on social media, primarily known for critiquing films and dramas, Qin Nan's long-standing habit prompted him to instinctively seek flaws in this death method.

What a terrible script.

He chuckled, tossing the script back onto the bedside table. However, this terrible script pulled his thoughts away from the chubby guy's death, allowing him to take a deep breath, as if the heavy weight on his heart had lightened considerably.

Today’s experiences had left Qin Nan mentally exhausted. After a quick hot shower, he lay down on the bed, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.

He slept soundly through the night until dawn.

Qin Nan was jolted awake by a scream from next door.

Rubbing his hair, he opened the door and went next door.

“What’s all the noise this early?” Qin Nan's tone was not pleasant.

No one answered him; the room was eerily quiet. Slowly realizing something was off, Qin Nan blinked his still-drowsy eyes and focused on the bed in the room.

Room 3909 was also a standard room, and like his, it housed a single occupant.

Stolen novel; please report.

That person was now lying on the bed, lifeless. The white sheets beneath him were stained red, blood spreading out beneath him in a shocking manner. Qin Nan froze for a moment, a few lines flashing through his mind. He instinctively looked up at the ceiling.

The lampshade was destroyed, and he could see some cracks remaining at the edges.

“What happened?” Qin Nan finally found his voice, asking in a hoarse tone.

Xia Zeqin stood not far from the bed. Upon hearing Qin Nan's question, he turned to look: “We came to call him for breakfast and found the door open. When we came in, it was like this.”

Qin Nan’s gaze returned to the bed and then slowly shifted to the floor.

There were shards of broken lampshade glass scattered on the ground.

Qin Nan instinctively clenched his fists. “I…” Just as the words left his mouth, he noticed Xia Zeqin's expression. He was looking at the corpse on the bed with a strange smile. In that moment, Qin Nan felt a chill run through him.

Whether it was the chubby guy who died yesterday or the person lying lifeless on the bed now, both were associated with Xia Zeqin. His attitude towards their deaths was unsettling; he was not a good partner.

Qin Nan chose to remain silent.

“Everyone disperse,” Xia Zeqin said, casually wrapping his arm around the waist of the woman beside him and leading her away.

His departure prompted the others to start moving as well.

Perhaps they were still fearful of death, but it seemed they had begun to grow accustomed to it. Among the twelve people, Qin Nan realized he was likely the only newcomer, which was not a good sign for him.

“Let’s go,” Jian Fan patted his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it soon.” His tone was as usual, but his gesture felt like a warm light in the freezing cold.

Qin Nan turned to look at Jian Fan, who had already started walking away, and suddenly had an idea.

“I need to talk to you,” Qin Nan said.

Jian Fan paused and turned back. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised.

Without further explanation, Qin Nan stepped outside. However, as he left the room, he glanced back. The layout of the hotel’s standard rooms was identical, just like his own.

Except for an extra camera in the corner.

Qin Nan quickly averted his gaze.

Jian Fan followed him into his room.

“What do you want to say?” Jian Fan asked first.

Qin Nan didn’t answer. He walked to the bedside table, picked up the script, and handed it to Jian Fan. “Have you read the script in the room?”

Jian Fan nodded. “The first scene predicts death.” His expression was calm. “Everyone here is an experienced player; nothing in the room could be overlooked.”

Qin Nan pressed his tongue against his cheek. “So you all knew, but no one said anything.” This realization complicated his feelings even more.

Jian Fan chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “No one can guarantee that what you think are allies won’t stab you in the back.”

Qin Nan fell silent.

“Is there anything else?” Jian Fan asked.

“You really didn’t have to tell me all this,” Qin Nan replied.

Jian Fan smirked. “So?”

“You need a partner,” Qin Nan stated bluntly. “You extended an olive branch to me; I can give you an answer now.”

Jian Fan laughed. “Really?”

“All you need to consider is whether you want to accept me as your partner,” Qin Nan said.

Jian Fan did not answer immediately. Instead, he began explaining the situation of the Realm of Death: “Every time the Realm of Death opens, there will be twelve players in a storyline world. Once a player dies, when the next world opens, new members will automatically be matched to fill the numbers. They could be experienced players from other worlds or newcomers like you. Surviving one world grants you five hundred base points. Players who break the world will earn extra points based on the number of survivors at the end. For each additional survivor, you gain an extra hundred points. Accumulate ten thousand points, and you can return to the real world. However, often, one world can consume the points you’ve gathered over several worlds.”

The rules were straightforward, but that didn’t mean the task would be easy.