Gavin said nothing more and turned away from the courtyard. Briel wiped the blood from her face and followed.
"Are you heading to the Wooden Man Forest? Let's go together!" Briel called.
Gavin nodded. "Let's hurry—we need to dig up a new Wooden Man Tree before nightfall."
Bo's expression shifted several times before he finally followed.
Eric watched them leave.
"Do you think this will work?" Ximena asked softly.
"I don't know. I hope it will. Come on, let's get out of here." Feeling the hostile stares of some players, Eric turned and walked away.
The players left in the courtyard stood among the wreckage, hollowed out like empty shells.
Only a few newcomers who had abstained from the earlier scramble looked slightly more composed. Since they hadn't joined the fight for the Wooden Man Tree, they had neither gain nor loss to grieve over. Kai, who had hidden with his half-finished puppet at the start of the chaos, now cautiously returned to his spot, intending to continue carving.
His hands trembled so badly he could barely hold his rasp. Witnessing firsthand how this game could turn humans into puppets, and again how players would kill for survival, Kai's illusion of camaraderie shattered—help was conditional; betrayal was always an option.
"I can only rely on myself," he thought.
No sooner had the thought formed than he felt a tickling sensation on his calf. Looking down, he saw several spiders crawling up his leg. Startled, he leapt up and kicked them off.
*Platter-platter—*
The spiders hit the ground with crisp little thuds.
"Spiders!"
Someone shouted. No one had noticed when they began to swarm, but suddenly the courtyard was teeming with them.
Panic erupted.
"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. These are my little pets. Once they tidy up the courtyard, they'll be on their way," the village chief said with a smile.
Aurora averted her gaze. The chief, once affable, now filled her with dread.
The dense mass of spiders scuttled about, clearing away the three corpses from the ground, scrubbing the blood from the earth and the players' shoes, then dispersed into the shadows—vanishing without a trace.
"That sound… doesn't it remind you of what we heard last night?" Rose's voice trembled.
"It does… I thought someone was carving wood at night. So it was the spiders? But how can spiders make that noise?"
Rowan snorted. "You didn't recognize them? They're not normal spiders. They must be puppets too—wooden spiders. That scraping sound? It's from their limbs striking the ground, like chiseling wood. We've been deceived. That village chief hides behind a smile, but he's been watching us all along—with these things."
"What's going on?" The Dashan couple appeared at the doorway, as simple and kind as ever. "We brought lunch! You should eat before continuing."
No one responded. Unbothered, the couple left the food and walked away.
"…Let's eat. We'll finish our puppets, then we can leave sooner," Bo muttered.
Aurora hesitated. "Will we really be able to leave after finishing the puppets?" Even though this was her first horror instance, she could see clearly that they'd taken the wrong path from the beginning—starting with the wood. Could they still correct it? If it were that simple, this wouldn't be a supernatural dungeon.
"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, if you don't want to make it, then don't."
A few harsh words, and the courtyard fell into a heavy silence.
Many players couldn't shake the village chief's warning: *The Wooden Spirits want human bodies.*
But they'd seen those spirits enter the trees submitted by two female players!
Perhaps the chief was just trying to scare them.
And even if it were true—only one spirit remained.
Maybe the unlucky one wouldn't be *them*?
If they just finished their puppets, maybe they'd be safe… right?
They had no way back, only this fragile hope to cling to. What else could they do? Was there another path?
Someone asked, "Gavin and the others went to find new trees, right? Do they even know the way?"
"They won't find it. We've been there. The mountain paths twist endlessly. Some aren't even paths—you have to hack through with a blade…"
Outside the village, Gavin and Briel indeed struggled to find their way to the Wooden Man Forest.
Despite searching until nightfall, they failed.
Eric and Ximena spent the afternoon at the old courtyard, refusing to go to the chief's house for dinner. When the players returned that evening, the two of them could feel the isolation—everyone had quietly shut them out. It only drew them closer; they sat in a corner of the living room, away from the others.
The night stretched on, but Eric finally managed some sleep.
The next morning, she followed the group to the village chief's house. While the others focused on puppet-making, she quietly slipped into a corner with Ximena, waiting.
Someone would surely finish their puppet today. She needed to witness it.
She hoped for a good outcome, but deep down, she knew the brutal nature of this game.
In the courtyard, Kai was the first to complete his puppet. He mustered his courage and approached the village chief. "I've finished my puppet."
The chief's eyes were warm and gentle. "Good, good child."
He accepted the puppet, repeating more or less the same comforting words he'd given to Eric and Ximena the day before. Kai beamed with pride.
This lifted the players' spirits, and they began working faster.
Eric pressed a hand to her right eye, but the ghost eye remained dormant. She couldn't see whether Kai's puppet had absorbed the sinister black mist from the wood.
Kai left, saying he was going to take a nap, clearly content.
One by one, more players completed their puppets.
By late afternoon, as the sun set, every player had handed theirs in. Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
"Briel and the others still haven't returned…" Ximena muttered, wondering if they had found the forest.
Seeing Eric staring blankly, she nudged her. "What's wrong?"
Eric's eyes ached from staring too long. The ghost eye showed no sign of life.
"Nothing. I just… hope I'm wrong," she murmured, rubbing her eyes.
Meanwhile, things hadn't gone well for Briel's group. It took them an entire afternoon and the following day to find the forest, after dozens of course corrections. Just before the final light faded, each dug out a tree.
To be safe, they decided to spend the night in the mountains. But neither could sleep. The night was cold, and the entire time, they heard hushed, indistinct voices whispering nearby.
"You hear that?" Bo's teeth chattered.
Briel trembled slightly, too afraid to speak. She feared that even a whisper might disturb the voices.
Was it the Wooden Spirits? Could they talk?
"Don't panic. When it's light, we'll see the way down," Gavin said.
He held up well, though regret gnawed at him.
He had some knowledge of this dungeon—he'd overheard fragments in a tavern once. That's why he had been cautious with the tree. Instead of cutting it, he carried it whole. But information was sparse, and these dungeons were countless. Even those entering the game at the same time might only share a handful of instances.
Gavin often gathered fragmented details, but couldn't possibly investigate each one in depth.
He never expected to fall into one he had once heard whispers about. Over the past few days, he had been piecing things together. The threads were finally forming a picture—but he dared not act on it alone. He had hoped to convince one of the three female players to make the first move.
Unexpectedly, his guess turned out to be right. What frustrated him was that he had been a step too late. His tree had been taken.
He could've fought for it—but the others were like lunatics. He was afraid of killing someone by accident.
What good would it do Rowan to get the tree? Even if he survived, murder in a horror instance never ends well. The next dungeon would teach him a lesson in karma. Besides, Rowan's tree was useless.
Bo asked again, "If I finish the puppet, can I pass?"
Gavin reassured him easily, "Of course. There's only one Wooden Spirit left—you really think your luck is so bad that it'll choose *you*?"
"Y-yeah. I've always been lucky."
At dawn, the three of them descended the mountain.
The players were already waiting outside the chief's house. When they saw the trio, they called out:
"You're the last ones!"
"Quick, quick! Once you hand them in, the next stage begins!"
Urged by the others, Gavin quickened his pace.
He and Briel successfully handed over their trees to the chief. Only Bo still needed to carve his puppet. Impatient, he hastily cobbled together a crude one—even Niu Niu's childlike puppet looked better—and handed it in.
The chief accepted it, pausing to ask, "Is this your puppet?"
"Yes! That's it. Is it okay?"
"Of course," the chief said with a smile full of strange meaning. Bo felt a ripple of unease.
"Well then, now that everyone has submitted their puppets, tomorrow we'll head to the town for the performance. I suggest you stay to watch—it could be good footage," the chief added.
Hearing this, Eric knew they *had* to see that performance.
The excitement in the chief's eyes was impossible to hide. Eric was instantly on high alert.
Wooden Man Village buzzed with activity the entire afternoon in preparation for the next day's show. In the village's Puppet Hall, wooden performers were arranged in rows—and among them, the players saw their own puppets displayed.
Late that night, footsteps awoke Eric. She opened her eyes to see that several female players, excluding herself, Ximena, and Briel, were leaving the room.
"Wha—"
Eric clamped a hand over Briel's mouth. Beside her, Ximena also stirred awake.
The three of them quietly followed. From the side rooms, more players emerged. Gavin stood in the shadows, silently watching them go.