They entered the basement door and walked inside. This time, no key was needed, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Although solving puzzles was not difficult for them and required no brainpower, the sheer volume of tasks was overwhelming. To solve one puzzle required turning eight statues, averaging two people per statue, consuming all their physical strength running back and forth.
Reaching the end of the basement, seeing the intricate patterns on the wall, Greed felt almost emotional. Was the main storyline finally beginning? Was the secret hidden in the estate finally about to be revealed? Would the victory conditions finally be announced?
Unfortunately, none of that happened.
Those patterns actually had no real meaning; they appeared as grooves on the wall, making it obvious that something needed to be placed inside them. There were thirteen grooves, a classic Western unlucky number.
This meant they needed to find thirteen slabs with patterns, each with a hint, either placed in the corner of the garden or next to the Roof Terrace door. Stranger still, before they entered the basement, there were no slabs on the ground.
Greed and those with him knew this because one slab was in a flower pot on the window sill in their bedroom hallway, and they were old players who crawled along the ground, scouring every crack. There was definitely no slab there before; it must have been added later.
This realization left Greed somewhat shaken: if this wasn't a dream, how could these items that appeared out of thin air be explained? It couldn't possibly be that they were intentionally withheld to obstruct the puzzle-solving process, only turning up later for them to find, could it?
If that's the case, it was just meant to waste time; however, no consequences were visible from the delay. Normally, in situations like this, there would be an ever-present enemy pressuring them, visible to the player to create urgency.
They speculated for ages, seeing no trace of any threat. There were no monsters endangering them, no storyline they couldn't complete, or hints of a bad ending—almost like the purpose of wasting time was to waste time itself, is it just about Time Guy?
At this point, Greed sensed something wrong but, trusting Batman, he believed putting these slabs in place would trigger a reaction. Perhaps not revealing all of the mysteries, but at least offering some storyline clues. So, they all swiftly gathered all the slabs and placed them into the grooves.
The grooves emitted a faint glow, avidly watched by everyone staring at the patterns on the wall. The result was the lights merged and faded, as if nothing happened.
Even Deathstroke, a seasoned mercenary, was puzzled. He said, "Could it be we placed them incorrectly?"
The agent had stepped forward to inspect the slabs, but they had become one with the wall and couldn't be pried loose. Greed confidently said, "No, we're right; I remember the patterns and locations clearly; we did not place them incorrectly."
"Could it be not matching them precisely, but placing them in reverse?" the agent suggested.
"Unlikely, as the patterns lack any order," Greed shook his head again, "If there were some order, we might reverse them, but without any order, how can you infer the direction of placement?"
Silence enveloped the basement. After some time, Greed said, "The unlocked item might not be in the basement; let's go outside and check."
As soon as they went outside, it was quite a shock, the outside world was shrouded in darkness.
As noted, snow was falling outside the estate, which should reflect some light, making even darker corridors dimly visible. Places like the back garden were brighter, making searches easier.
Yet, as they exited now, it seemed like darkness had swallowed the entire world. Though it wasn't pitch black, the visibility had dropped to nearly three meters. At the moment, standing in the back garden, they could see most rooms in the estate were dark, with only a few still lit.
Everyone remained silent, but all thought those rooms should be their next targets, likely hiding something important. They collectively stepped forward, heading toward the rooms still illuminated.
Once inside the estate, they immediately noticed something was wrong; a passage normally straight now twisted, with rooms missing around them. After some time, they hadn't reached the kitchen; the estate's structure seemed completely altered.
And the real problem was, with the estate's power out once again, candles in the corridors didn't light. With no lighting tools and uncertainty about the changed paths, they groped in the darkness for a while, ending up back at their starting point.
"This place seems to have become a giant maze," the agent pondered, "Should we try the left-hand rule to see if it gets us out?"
Though sounding somewhat unreliable, it was the only solution for now. Note, the left-hand rule only applies to stationary mazes without mechanisms. If there are mechanisms altering paths, or a maze that transforms, it may not work. And this estate happens to be one of those transforming mazes.
Walking the maze is not scary; what's scary is not knowing why you have to walk the maze. As these people walk further, they become more bewildered. They have no idea why they have to fumble in the dark, climb stairs only to descend again, walk left then turn right.
For old-time players, the grind level of a game doesn't really matter. Even if the amount of work required is huge, as long as the goal can be achieved, or even not for achieving the goal, as long as there is logic, it's all okay.
Just like the time when Deathstroke participated in an instance before, he started by mining for several days. This wasn't one of those cutscene animations; he was genuinely acting as a mineworker, the kind that swings a pickaxe and mines by hand, almost exhausting Uncle Zhong.
But he didn't give a bad review because of this since the game character was indeed a mineworker, and the things and experiences he gained from mining were put to use later. So this labor wasn't meaningless. Furthermore, Deathstroke even learned the healthiest posture for swinging a pickaxe, a definite win-win.
But walking the maze in the estate, there's no logic at all. No one has any clue why the estate turned out this way. Even if a notebook were left in the cellar or some words written on the wall, saying something like "This estate is alive" or "After midnight, everyone will be trapped," such phrases could barely serve as the explanation that the property itself has issues.
But there's absolutely nothing. To date, they haven't found a shred of textual clues or anything that could be called a plot. Once in the game, they're using the exhaustion method knocking doors looking for people, for fuses, matches, keys, stone slabs, and now they are searching for a route.
It seemingly turned into a large scavenger hunt, where apart from rushing around the map searching for needed items, there's hardly any other gameplay. What's scarier is, the purpose of finding items is to find the next item, truly bewildering everyone.
"So where are we ultimately supposed to go?" The agent asked, his soul questioning.
The only reply was silence. After a while, Greed said, "I think maybe it's some key item that can lift the Curse."
At this point, they can only use the simplest logic to deduce, where the unclear gives homage to Cthulhu, just presuming the house is an Old Day Dominator whose purpose is to torment every traveler who comes here this way, making them hunt endless fuses, keys, and stone slabs. Even if they can't use the old seal to drive it away, at least they need to find something to protect themselves and send them out, right? They don't deserve a life spent searching for fuses here, do they?
"We need to find the door to the Roof Terrace." Little Superman suddenly said, "It's not opened yet."
Greed patted his forehead, initially they were supposed to be finding the key to the Roof Terrace door. Where's the key?
Actually, after discovering the stone slab, everyone buried their heads in finding more slabs, completely forgetting about the Roof Terrace door key. Now it's too late to search for it, as they are already trapped in the estate maze and cannot get out.
Since they're here, they might as well explore the maze to see if they can find anything else useful. But surprises often come unexpectedly; soon they discovered a somewhat unusual door in front of them.
"Oh, it's here." Little Superman was the first to step forward and say, "This is the Roof Terrace door. It's a shame we don't have the key..."
Little Superman initially reached out intending to touch the keyhole, but with a slight force, the door pushed open. Outside was a world of white; it was snowflakes that had form but no temperature.
Before anyone behind could say anything, Little Superman had already stepped into the snow. He stood in the falling snow, looked around, and found nothing out of the ordinary. When the others came out, they realized they were outside and the original estate had vanished.
Surveying around, there was a black dot in a certain direction, seemingly guiding them there. So they walked towards that direction through the snow. Although the snowfall increased, because it wasn't cold at all, walking started off relatively easy.
But the black dot was extremely far, and after some time walking, the snow reached above the knees, making progress difficult. Fortunately, they were many and could lend a helping hand to each other. After half a day, when the snow was almost waist-deep, they finally arrived in front of the black dot.
It was a black box with a lock. At this point, Greed couldn't resist clenching his fist: "You better not have placed the key inside the estate, or I'll definitely give you a bad review when I get out."
Greed wasn't sure if the maker was watching or cared about bad reviews, but this time their luck was alright; the key was at the bottom of the box. They picked it up and opened the box, and in the next second, a giant whirlpool swallowed them all.
When they woke again, they were in a dimly lit abandoned warehouse. Before they could collect themselves, the air was filled with roaring noises.
Greed felt something more in his hand, looked down, and found it was a white tooth. He remembered in the second before the whirlpool engulfed them, inside the black box was this very tooth.