[Sanity: 65/100]
I jerked awake from a light sleep once again. This was the fifth time in the past two hours.
The lights in the lobby were still warm, and the hum of the Arc Reactor was still stable, but I felt absolutely no sense of security.
On the contrary, this light made the surrounding darkness seem even deeper and more malicious.
I crawled up from behind the counter and grabbed the water bottle at my hand, taking a huge gulp. The ice-cold water flowed down my throat, but it couldn't suppress the inexplicable heat and panic at the bottom of my heart.
"Someone is watching me."
This feeling was extremely intense. It was like walking down a deserted street late at night, constantly feeling a pair of eyes staring dead at the back of your neck.
I gripped the fire axe tightly and neurotically paced around the lobby.
No zombies, no mechanical hounds, not even that bald rat. The patched-up main door was shut tight.
But my Sanity was still dropping. 65... 64...
"Come out! Stop playing tricks!"
I shouted at the empty lobby. My voice echoed off the walls, receiving no response.
Only the sound of the wind. The wind blew through the cracks in the door, making a woo-woo sound. But to my ears, the tune of that sound changed.
It sounded like countless fragmented whispers, like the error tones of a glitching code, or the sound of soft-bodied animals crawling over my nerves.
"Stay..." "Become us..." "So hungry..."
"Shut up!"
I knocked hard on my head, trying to drive those auditory hallucinations out.
Is this the [Abyssal_Gaze]? As long as you live in this abandoned world, as long as you breathe the data dust here, your mind will be eroded bit by bit.
Loneliness. That is the greatest poison.
If there were someone who could talk to me, even just to curse at me, I could confirm that I was still alive, confirm that I was still a normal person. But right now, there is only me.
I walked to the dust-covered full-length mirror in the lobby. The person in the mirror had a pale face, sunken eye sockets, and bloodshot eyes revealing a neurotic anxiety.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I suddenly grinned, revealing a stiff smile.
"Good evening, Manager Lynn." I said to the mirror, "You look terrible."
The me in the mirror didn't speak, just stared dead at me.
"Don't be so serious." I continued talking to myself, my voice sounding exceptionally eerie in the empty lobby. "We did a good job today, didn't we? Killed monsters, fixed the door, and even restored the power. We are the Employee of the Year."
No one responded. This one-man show made me feel like a fool, and also like a madman.
My gaze shifted down, landing on the fire axe in my hand. Black insulating tape was wrapped around the red handle, and unwashed green bloodstains remained on the blade.
"Only you are with me, right?"
I reached out and touched the cold axe blade, my eyes becoming gentle, as if petting a pet.
"Since you are red, and you like chopping people so much... I'll call you 'Old Buddy' from now on."
"Old Buddy, tell me, why is this world so quiet?"
Hugging the axe, I leaned back against the counter and slid to the floor.
[Sanity: 64/100 (Stable)]
Strangely, after I started talking to the axe, the rate of my Sanity drop actually slowed down. Maybe the system determined I had found a "Social Target"? Even if that target was an axe.
"Heh... how ironic."
I let out a bitter laugh.
Just then.
Scrape—Scratch—
An ear-piercing scratching sound suddenly came from the direction of the main door.
My nerves snapped tight instantly; the little bit of "warmth" from just now vanished without a trace.
I jumped up abruptly, raising "Old Buddy," staring dead at the main door.
The sound was faint, but in the silence of the late night, it was crystal clear. It sounded like something was pressing against the outside of the door panel, using its fingernails to slowly, stroke by stroke, scrape against the wood.
Scrape... Scrape...
Not banging, not breaking. Just pure scratching. Like a prankish child, or some kind of probing.
"Who?!"
I shouted in a low voice.
The scratching stopped. Immediately after, a voice that sounded like a smirk mixed with electronic interference drilled in through the crack of the door.
"Hee hee... open the door..."
The voice was erratic, genderless, yet it made a chill seep out from my bones.
Of course, I wouldn't open the door. I'm not stupid.
But I didn't dare move either. I just stood there holding the axe, frozen in place, not daring to breathe loud.
That voice didn't sound again. Outside the door, it returned to a deathly silence.
Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. One hour.
I stood like a statue, my eyes sore from staring, my ears pricked up like antennas. I didn't know if it had left. Maybe the moment I closed my eyes, it would break in.
This kind of psychological warfare was pure torture.
Only when the gray fog on the horizon brightened a little did that oppressive feeling of being watched gradually fade.
I finally couldn't hold on anymore and slumped to the floor, the axe falling at my feet with a clang.
"No..."
I grabbed my own hair, my voice hoarse.
"I can't go on like this."
I am only one person. I need sleep. I can't keep my eyes open and guard this place 24 hours a day.
Tonight it was scratching, tomorrow night it might be banging on the door, and the day after it might be a ghost walking straight through the wall. As long as I slip up once, as long as I sleep too soundly once... I'm finished.
I looked at the 63/100 Sanity on the phone screen, and those red, bloodshot eyes.
In this moment, a strong thought occupied my brain.
What this hotel lacks isn't electricity, isn't water, isn't even food. What it lacks is People.
I need someone who can help me keep watch at night. Someone who can watch the door while I sleep, keep a lookout while I move bricks, and talk to me to confirm I haven't gone crazy. An Employee.
"Recruit."
Gritting my teeth, I squeezed these words out.
"No matter how much money it costs, no matter what means I use... I must recruit an employee!"
"Even if I have to go to the trash heap and pick up a ghost, I'll accept it!"