Chapter 71: Check the Name

Lin Kuo had indeed suspected Zhang Yi of harboring ghosts. Now that Zhang Yi had openly voiced his stance, Lin Kuo felt no need to go picking a fight for no reason. He still had more pressing matters to handle, so he left Zhang Yi alone.

After Zhang Yi departed, Lin Kuo stepped out of his room as well. He first circled around the courtyard’s outer wall, counting the number of ghosts depicted in gray on the painted scroll. Then, pretending to stroll leisurely, he quietly eavesdropped on others’ conversations, listening carefully for names being mentioned. Every name he heard, he memorized—those names represented people who were still alive. By comparing that with the number of ghosts whose identities could not be determined, he could roughly deduce who had already died.

It was a clumsy method, but at present, it was the only option. Asking outright who had died would likely earn suspicion or lies.

Because of how slow this process was, even after circling the courtyard several times, Lin Kuo had only confirmed a handful of names. As lunchtime approached, he headed to the main hall, intending to use mealtime to overhear more.

Arriving early, he found only a few people in the hall—Duan Qiu and Guo Huai, both formerly members of Wang Qing’s team, as well as a couple of other upper-district participants. Zhang Yi was absent.

Other than Duan Qiu and Guo Huai, the rest looked grim.

Lin Kuo gave them a brief glance, then sat at a table far from them, quietly eating his food.

These people were no longer part of one team. Even though they now had no direct competition with Lin Kuo, none of them greeted him warmly; in fact, their conversations dropped to hushed murmurs as soon as he sat down.

Someone from the upper C-district whispered, “Brother Qiu, Brother Huai, what do we do now? Those things are roaming in our rooms. Even Brother Qing wasn’t their match. How are we supposed to…”

Duan Qiu let out a cold laugh. “What do we do? Sit tight and enjoy the ride.”

Guo Huai wore a sour expression. “We provoked them; now we deal with it. Wang Qing died too soon. With him gone, all those eyes became useless.”

The upper C-district man lowered his voice further. “Could it be related to the roster?”

Lin Kuo listened openly, piecing together their meaning. The “things” they referred to were clearly the participants who had died inside the painted scroll but whose names had not been crossed out on the roster. Everyone had seen how Wang Qing and his people treated those from the lower districts; it was no surprise the wronged spirits would now come for revenge.

Judging by their conversation, those ghosts were lingering in their rooms, which explained why they were holding meetings in the main hall.

Lin Kuo ate quietly, not interrupting.

Duan Qiu sneered. “It’s obvious enough. Did you really need to ask? I should’ve guessed C-district trash is even weaker than dogs. If I’d known, I’d have cleared a few four-star or five-star dungeons before wasting my time on Hundred Ghosts Scroll.”

The C-district man gave a sheepish laugh. “We… we didn’t expect Hundred Ghosts Scroll to update its rules like this. Now that Brother Qing is dead, we don’t even know if we’re allowed to cross out names. As long as the names remain, those things will keep hounding us. If we want to end this early, the only way is to re-enter the scroll.”

Duan Qiu snorted. “You think I’d risk re-entering? My whole team is gone; I’ve lost the right to earn contribution points. What, do you think I’m insane or just easy to fool?”

The C-district man hurried to explain, “Brother Qiu, even without a team, individuals can still earn points.”

Duan Qiu tilted his chin arrogantly, glancing toward Lin Kuo. “‘Slippery Ghost,’ ‘Great Tengu,’ ‘Sea Humpback’—the initiator already bagged three of the top ten. What am I supposed to compete with?”

The C-district man leaned closer, voice dropping to barely a whisper, his lips moving with almost no sound. “Brother Qiu, we’ve discussed it. As long as you and Brother Huai are willing to go back into the scroll, all the eyes we earn will go to you. We don’t need points anymore. When Hundred Ghosts Scroll ends, all contribution points are yours and Brother Huai’s. We just want to get out alive.”

The offer was tempting. Seeing Duan Qiu’s hesitation, the man gestured subtly toward Lin Kuo, and both Duan Qiu and Guo Huai nodded knowingly.

Lin Kuo, expression blank, had overheard more than enough. He’d already anticipated that people would suspect the roster’s power; as long as they didn’t try experimenting with crossing out living names, things wouldn’t get truly dangerous.

Just then, Wu Tingting’s team arrived. Lin Kuo lifted his gaze briefly. Like Duan Qiu’s group, Wu Tingting’s people looked terrible—if anything, even worse.

One woman following Wu Tingting stood out. No one in the team spoke to her, keeping their distance. After they found a table, she stood silently behind Wu Tingting, glaring at her with deep resentment.

Wu Tingting’s face went pale. She tried to maintain composure and began eating, but after just a few bites, she slammed her chopsticks down, spinning around to glare at the woman following her. “What does this have to do with me!”

Her outburst turned every head in the room. Guo Huai got up and approached Wu Tingting, murmuring something in her ear. Wu Tingting hesitated.

Lin Kuo overheard Wu Tingting’s trembling question: “You… you really have a way?”

Guo Huai smiled.

Wu Tingting frowned suspiciously. “Why are you telling me?”

Guo Huai only chuckled.

Their exchange was quiet but not private. From the cryptic words, most people were confused, but Lin Kuo understood: Guo Huai was telling Wu Tingting about the roster’s ability. The cautious, calculating upper-district players wouldn’t risk testing it themselves; instead, they’d use someone else. Even Sheng Wen hadn’t been certain what side effects might come from crossing out names, which was why he’d told Lin Kuo to wait. But to Guo Huai, Wu Tingting—the initiator—was the perfect pawn.

Sensing danger, Lin Kuo’s brow furrowed slightly, a faint vertical crease forming between his eyes.

Wu Tingting was nearly driven mad by the ghostly woman following her. Though she was from the upper district, being haunted like this was unbearable. Without further hesitation, she decided to follow Guo Huai’s suggestion.

As Wu Tingting headed toward the flower hall to cross out names, Guo Huai glanced at Lin Kuo with a smile. “Lin Kuo, care to join us?”

Lin Kuo set down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and silently accepted.

The group moved together into the flower hall. Hanging in the center was the roster. Aside from the dungeon’s first day, Lin Kuo hadn’t visited the hall again, so he hadn’t seen that a table had been placed beneath the scroll. Upon it rested an inkstone filled with red ink, and a brush lying across it—the tip stained crimson.

The old man in blue robes wasn’t present, likely to create a sense of “do as you please” for the participants.

All eyes were on Wu Tingting. She scanned the room for the ghost that had been following her, but it had vanished the moment she entered the hall. That only strengthened her belief in Guo Huai’s words.

Step by step, Wu Tingting approached the roster. Her pace was neither fast nor slow, but it was clear she was hesitating. Most guessed she would only cross out the names of her own fallen teammates and not fulfill her promise to Guo Huai’s group.

Yet neither Duan Qiu nor Guo Huai appeared worried. They seemed to have already decided what to do if she backed out.

Lin Kuo watched her closely. The scroll still bore forty-six names. Wu Tingting picked up the brush and, without hesitation, crossed out one: Yu Ling.

The moment she drew the red stroke, a shrill scream came from outside, followed by a sound like fire being quenched by water.

The haunted players breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Nothing happened to Wu Tingting, and she visibly relaxed. Gaining confidence, she crossed out several more names—each belonging to a teammate who had died in the scroll.

Within minutes, she had finished with her entire team’s dead. She set the brush down, but as she lowered her arm, someone caught her elbow.

Guo Huai smiled. “A lady should keep her word, shouldn’t she?”

Wu Tingting tried to pull free, but Guo Huai’s grip was unyielding. Her expression darkened. “You saw it yourself—crossing out names is safe. I don’t know your team’s dead. You do it.”

She thrust the brush toward him.

Duan Qiu stepped up as well, the two men boxing her in. At 172 cm, Wu Tingting was tall for a woman, but between the two towering men, she looked almost petite.

Her teammates moved to help, but others who had sided with Duan Qiu and Guo Huai stopped them.

Lin Kuo, a neutral outsider, felt like he was watching a gang standoff. He remained still and silent, an observer among predators.

Duan Qiu lowered his voice threateningly. “Not a good idea to go back on your word now. If you won’t help us willingly… we’ll have to…”

Wu Tingting trembled. “What are you going to do?”

Duan Qiu smirked. “Introduce you to our ghosts. Maybe then you’ll cooperate.”

Wu Tingting felt a chill like a hammer to the head. She had seen Wang Qing’s corpse, and she knew he was a B-district player—someone far stronger than her. If even he had been defenseless, she stood no chance.

Her knees weakened. “I…”

Guo Huai eyed the scroll. “Start with Wang Qing. You know him, don’t you?”

Wu Tingting squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she couldn’t afford to anger these two. The only thing she could do was obey and pray nothing would happen, especially since she wasn’t Wang Qing’s initiator.

Her trembling hand drew a line through Wang Qing’s name.

She kept her eyes shut for a long time. After thirty seconds, she finally dared to open them—unharmed. Duan Qiu and Guo Huai exchanged meaningful looks.

Wu Tingting stammered, “Th-that’s enough, right?”

Duan Qiu glanced at Guo Huai. “Keep going.”

Guo Huai understood instantly. “Jian Weiming.”

Wu Tingting’s face went pale. She crossed out the name—and a scream pierced the air.

Lin Kuo’s heart sank. The source was immediately clear: the C-district man who had offered all his team’s eyes to Duan Qiu and Guo Huai. Blood erupted from his arteries like a fountain, splattering those nearby.

Wu Tingting dropped the brush in shock, blood speckling its shaft.

Before Duan Qiu or Guo Huai could react, Lin Kuo lunged forward, snatched the roster, and bolted.

Chaos erupted behind him as he sprinted toward the courtyard wall. Without hesitation, he bit his finger and smeared blood onto the scroll—he didn’t even see which ghost he marked.

Clutching the roster, he dove into the painting.