He paused. The iron latch glinted.
"…Was that always there?" he asked.
Huipao blinked.
"What? Of course. It's a kitchen."
"No, no," Ming stepped closer. "There's kitchen appliances, sure, but that's the only thing here we haven't checked. We've gone past everything else, searched, but still not noticed this."
Still, Ming tugged the latch. It groaned open with the slow, theatrical creak of a horror movie prop. Mist spilled out, cold enough to sting. He peered inside, expecting ice, or maybe a ghost chef's leftovers.
Instead, he saw… a ladder.
A ladder leading straight down into darkness.
"Oh," Huipao whispered. "Oh, absolutely not."
He stepped back. Then forward again. The curiosity-to-survival ratio in his brain was probably vigorously malfunctioning.
Bianheng leaned in beside him, expression sharp.
"Hidden access tunnel. Probably the real dungeon."
Huipao paused, then bounced on his toes, excitement poorly concealed. What is up with that kid?
"Secret basement! That's definitely where the sub-story boss is."
Ming's stomach rumbled in protest.
"Can't the boss come upstairs? I'm hungry."
"We clear it faster if we go down," Zhaoying said simply, already conjuring a faint green glow over her palm. "And maybe you'll get food afterward."
Food.
That magic word again.
Ming straightened with sudden resolve.
"Well! Why didn't you lead with that? Into the death-chute we go!"
He grabbed the ladder. The cold bit his fingers, but he pushed past it, climbing down first—partly out of bravery, mostly because if something ate him, maybe it would be too full to eat the others.
He paused and looked back at the group.
They looked back at him.
Ming cleared his throat.
"Shouldn't we ask the others to come too? Strength in numbers, and all that?"
Bianheng blinked.
Ming blinked back.
They blinked at each other.
Zhaoying rolled her eyes.
"Are you stupid or something? First clears of the round get extra rewards. Plus, they can probably find other routes too."
What other routes? The kitchen was, like, the only suspicious thing.
Huipao noticed his confusion and started to explain. The kid was always good at that, at least.
"The paintings had traces of spiritual residue, and the cashier probably would have had spirit money."
Then why'd they go to the kitchen? And how did they even sense the magic residue???
Fine, fine. Ming was here for one reason, and it was not his brain. Actually, he didn't know the reason either.
Eh. Future problems.
Wait. Was Ming here as a sacrifice? Or was he being scouted? Well, one certainly seemed a lot more likely than the other. Hopefully nothing came out of that suspicion!
They climbed down the ladder, and somehow ended up climbing up. Gravity magic, perhaps. They climbed up into a different kitchen, one that had the same layout, but was far, far messier.
Ming wrinkled his nose. There was a strong scent of iron, but sweet and cloying. He ran a hand over the rusted kitchen counters.
It was kind of unsettling, how stark the contrast was between the two kitchens. One was smooth, the other jagged and bumpy. And really dirty.
Oh dear. Now Ming's hand was covered in… sticky fluid. It was dark. Hopefully not blood. It smelled really bad.
…
He was going to lick it.
Tongue out—but Bianheng stopped him with a raised eyebrow.
It was starting to become a pattern: Ming finally doing something interesting, and then a member of the Blackbladeblade(?) guild stopping him.
"You know," a certain blond kid started, "your name is a wee bit short. Any chance we can give you a nickname or something?"
Hmm. If they gave him a nickname, that probably meant no sacrifice.
"Sure."
Huipao brightened up significantly.
"How about Ah'Ming?"
Ah'Ming. That didn't sound too bad, actually.
Ah'Ming nodded.
"Great!"
Zhaoying called over from the corner of the room, beckoning them closer. Pointing at the sink, she asked the guild plus Ah'Ming,
"Do you guys remember if the other kitchen had a mirror?"
Nope. Not at all.
Now that he thought about it, Ah'Ming really wasn't suited for this profession. Hopefully he could take a combat one. He was certain that he would be great at fighting ghosts. It probably wouldn't be any harder than fighting normal people, right?
Ooh, now he hoped that there was a ghost. Time to break out his cutting skills and hope they hadn't completely degraded while Ah'Ming had been stuck in college.
Zhaoying pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I swear," she said, voice echoing unpleasantly off the tile, "this has got to be the stupidest instance I've ever been in. And I've done a sewer dungeon that turned out to be a mimic."
Oooh, mimics? Talk about plot twists. Almost like D&D! Ah'Ming had actually been in a D&D club once. It hadn't really worked out though, since they'd kept trying to kill each other instead of the monsters. Hopefully his new party was better though! The evilevilsword(?) Guild must be competent if they have DPS and healers, right?
Bianheng hummed noncommittally.
"The forum guides," Zhaoying continued, warming up now—oh dear, she seemed to be working up a true rage—"were clearly written by people who either lied, died immediately, or both. 'Kitchen route is optional,' my ass. Optional my foot. Optional like getting stabbed is optional."
Huipao laughed under his breath.
"Maybe they just didn't find the second kitchen."
"Then they shouldn't be writing guides," Zhaoying snapped. "If I see one more post that says 'just follow the obvious clues,' I'm reporting them for misinformation."
Ah'Ming nodded along, even though he wasn't sure what a forum guide was in this context. Earlier, he'd thought it would kind of be like a Reddit post. Was it more like a masterclass?
He was sure that none of this felt optional, though. The new magic world seemed pretty important—just like Silent Hill.
Zhaoying straightened, rolling her shoulders.
"Alright. We've confirmed the mirror discrepancy, the blood…."
She glanced pointedly at Ah'Ming's hand, still faintly stained.
"…and the gravity nonsense. There's nothing else here except bad vibes and tetanus."
She gestured toward the door.
"Let's get out of the murder kitchen. Maybe the inner world egg tart shop is better?"
No one argued.
They pushed back through the doorway and immediately froze.