Chapter 23: Unyielding Spirit
Everyone turned to look.
A bright red sedan chair adorned with white funeral banners suddenly appeared in the plaza. Four figures dressed in long pink dresses, their movements stiff, their pale faces painted with garish makeup, were carrying the sedan chair with a light, almost ethereal gait.
The distorted Elvis song emanated from the four carriers.
The crowd quickly scattered, making way.
"Get out of the way!"
"Yeah, man, let's move."
The Guy Fawkes-masked vendor who sold Marcus the manual dodged while simultaneously calling out to the two.
Seeing this, Marcus also quickly moved aside with the others.
His expression was somewhat strange; wasn't this the song from The Evil Dead? The one that played right before the demon possession started?
"What's there to be afraid of? The plaza is a safe zone. They've just gone through a few more dungeons than us. We're all in the same boat. If we hide now, we'll retreat countless times and lose our edge!"
Jake saw the people around him scrambling away because of the sedan chair that was still far off. He snorted, his fearless aura surging, and continued to stand calmly in place, flipping through the booklet.
'Love me tender, love me sweet...'
'Never let me go...'
The sedan chair slowly approached with the singing.
Marcus's enhanced vision allowed him to see the details of the sedan chair:
The joints were held together with wire, the sides were smooth as paper, and the carrying poles were neither wood nor metal.
The four figures carrying the sedan chair had sharp, angular clothes that wouldn't move naturally, and their faces were painted with heavy makeup and shadows.
These were clearly four paper dolls and a paper sedan chair. Marcus retreated again, hiding far behind the Guy Fawkes-masked man.
Jake stood calmly in place, his back to the sedan chair, left arm crossed over his right chest, right hand holding a manual in mid-air. He stood ramrod straight, his brows furrowing and relaxing intermittently, seemingly engrossed in his reading.
The sedan chair paused slightly in front of Jake, as if its owner hadn't expected anyone to stand in their way.
"Interesting!"
An androgynous voice came from inside the sedan chair.
A fleeting look of satisfaction crossed Jake's eyes, then vanished just as quickly. He continued calmly reading the manual, oblivious to the music playing around him.
Suddenly, a visible gust of cold wind swept through the area. Through the swaying curtain, Marcus saw a pale-faced figure in elaborate funeral attire, wearing white face paint, a paper flower pinned to their chest.
The sedan chair seemed to dim suddenly, as if reality itself had glitched. Then, the sedan chair continued forward, passing right through Jake.
Jake's face instantly turned pale and stiff. Expressionless and with a rigid body, he walked out of the lighthouse's illumination range. A series of chaotic footsteps and screeching sounds echoed in the darkness before falling silent.
The crimson paper sedan chair followed the faint path of light extending from the lighthouse, drifting toward the distant cluster of smaller towers resembling candles.
"Idiot! Haha!"
A huge raven's head cawed from the crowd.
It was perched on the left shoulder of a burly man with a cold expression, his body muscular and his eyes fixed straight ahead, standing with his arms crossed.
"Kid didn't know when to fold."
"He doesn't think the manual's safety guarantee includes the Tower Masters, does he?"
"Of course the manual doesn't include the Tower Masters, but that Tower Master will have to pay some survival points this time."
The group discussed amongst themselves.
"Bro, who's the big shot in that sedan chair?"
Marcus took a dozen steps forward, approaching the masked vendor and asking.
"That's the newly promoted Paper Doll Tower Master from last month, but only new Tower Masters come to the main plaza."
The Guy Fawkes man casually explained when he saw it was his customer.
"As expected of the Paper Doll Tower Master, that presence is terrifying—the aura of someone at the top!"
Marcus exclaimed, then thought for a moment and asked the vendor, "Man, do you have any info about the Tower Masters?"
"Don't talk crazy, I don't."
The masked man glanced around cautiously and spoke carefully, quickly slipping away from Marcus.
Seeing his apprehensive look, Marcus didn't say anything more and decided to go back and check the Lighthouse's information.
"Return to reality,"
Marcus thought, returning to his room.
He observed the view outside the window and compared the two Lighthouse documents.
The records only contained information about the first two tiers; the supposed thousand entries were mostly filler, even including rules against littering.
Only a few were truly useful, one of which was the ability to communicate with the Lighthouse and spend 500 survival points to apply for a personal room.
The personal room included a strength testing facility and appraisal functions. Once the strength test reached Tier 1, the name of the next dungeon could be known in advance, and survival points could be spent to refresh the current dungeon world.
The first refresh cost 500 survival points, the second 1000, then 2000, and so on, doubling exponentially to 4000.
Marcus flipped through the included intel packets again, then put them down and sighed,
"Brother Jake, you didn't die for nothing—you died for being stupid!"
The two intel reports stated:
"In the story of The Ring, there is a well near the protagonist; copying the tape can extend the curse deadline."
"In The Exorcist, if the priest grabs the possessed person by the neck, it can imprison the demon."
"In 1408, one can climb through the window to reach room 1407 to escape the entity."
The first report listed two points, the second only one.
But anyone who believed this intelligence and followed its instructions in these worlds would likely die without even understanding how.
Marcus didn't understand why the Tower Masters who compiled these lighthouse manuals would deliberately release such obviously misleading information. These manuals made no mention of the Tower Masters themselves.
However, one thing was certain: he couldn't carelessly reveal the memories of those horror worlds he knew, or he might be targeted by these Tower Masters.
Marcus entered the lighthouse again, his thoughts triggering the lighthouse mark:
"Unlock personal space."
[Spend 500 survival points to unlock personal space?]
"Yes."
[Survival points deducted successfully, personal lighthouse space unlocked]
'Remaining survival points: 7697.'
A structure rose from the ground before Marcus, its entrance revealing a doorway obscured by rippling energy.
He walked through the doorway; inside were only four simple walls. With a thought, Marcus styled the room to resemble his apartment back in the Hellraiser world.
He sat on the familiar sofa and triggered the lighthouse mark.
"Enter the testing room."
The surrounding environment instantly changed, transforming into a desolate, endless plain of barren earth, utterly silent and empty.
[Entered the testing room, 100 survival points deducted per minute.]
Marcus dusted himself off and stood up. The space changed so suddenly, without warning.
He already knew how to test strength from the manual. Whether it was healing, combat skills, firearms, or even recovery ability, stamina, mental strength, or even one-time destructive methods like explosives, the Lighthouse could comprehensively determine the strength level.
However, a false strength level would not only be useless but would also backfire, though the manual didn't explain why.
Marcus cracked his knuckles. Time to see what a trip through Hell had really done to him.
(End of Chapter)
[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+10 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/DarkFoxx (20+ advanced chapters)