The weapon by the pillow

Who exactly... set up this trap in Chapter 7?

The door was locked, the windows were nailed shut, and outside, countless eyes were watching…

"There really is... a ghost!" Ah Zhe couldn't help but exclaim, hugging Xiao Fei tightly, both of them trembling.

Upon hearing the word "ghost," the research enthusiast's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground, muttering unconsciously, "It's over...it's over..." Lynx stopped prying the plank, his face ashen, and the pliers in his hand clattered to the ground. Lin Qian's expression finally changed; she instinctively took a few steps back, leaning against the wall not far from Cheng Tan, her breathing becoming rapid.

Old K finally threw away his cigarette butt, slowly straightened up, and the dejection and turbidity on his face seemed to have faded somewhat.

Only Shadow did not give up the search. He quickly retreated from the window, leaned against the wall, and scanned every corner of the room, as well as the jammed door, as if looking for a possible way to break out, or... the danger hidden inside.

Cheng Tan sat on the ground, raised his head, looked at the countless cold eyes outside the window, then looked at the murder weapon he had used in his dream, which was scattered on the floor. Finally, his gaze met Old K's meaningful look once again.

In an instant, he seemed to understand.

This is no coincidence.

From the bizarre plea for help that he posted, which was wildly popular, to the so-called "lottery," to the seven people chosen by "fate" to gather here, and to this haunted house stage that was meticulously prepared to await them...

It all seems to be part of a scheme.

A carefully orchestrated scheme targeting him, or rather, targeting all of them.

The mastermind behind this plan might be among them, or perhaps behind the countless eyes outside the window.

The frustration and pain caused by the design, like the dust that permeates the room, seeps into every pore of Cheng Tan's body.

The shadow spoke slowly, breaking the deathly silence of the room: "Now, the game has truly begun."

"Or rather," Old K interjected, his voice sounding mocking, "the trial has begun."

"Trial?"

The mocking term "Old K" instantly snapped Cheng Tan's already taut nerves.

It truly felt like a trial! Countless silent eyes peered out the window, the door was completely sealed shut, and the room was littered with murder weapons stained with the blood of thirteen years ago. The strangers gathered around him by an online lottery all looked indistinct and harbored sinister intentions.

It seems that he has been pushed into the abyss of despair, tormented by thirteen dreams.

He could no longer bear the immense pressure.

Nightmares haunting him every night, the "murder weapon" that actually exists beside his pillow every time he wakes up, an old newspaper that seems like a curse, and fragments of memories that have just resurfaced about bullying that little girl and being glared at by that woman... all of these things are like countless cold hands, choking him and dragging him into madness.

"That's not the story..."

Amidst the crowd's suspicions, Cheng Tan leaned against the cold, dirty wall, slowly raised his head, and a flame of near collapse burned in his bloodshot eyes.

"Okay...you want to know...want to know why I posted that..." His voice was hoarse, "It wasn't out of curiosity...it wasn't out of morbid curiosity..."

He took a deep breath; the musty, dusty air in the room stung his nerves.

"For so many days, I've been having the same dream over and over again, a dream about a woman being murdered," Cheng Tan's voice trembled as if he were talking in his sleep, his gaze blankly staring at some non-existent point in the air. "When I wake up, the murder weapon from the dream is right next to my pillow."

Silence fell over the room. Even the countless pairs of eyes peering out the window seemed to freeze. Only the lynx's heavy breathing and the faint chattering of the meticulous scholar's teeth proved that time had not stopped.

"The first dream..." Cheng Tan closed his eyes. He didn't want to recall the bloody scene, yet he had to face it. "It was an ice pick. Gleaming with a cold light, icy and bone-chilling. I dreamt that I was holding it, piercing that woman's...body. It felt so real, the resistance, and...the sound of bones. When I woke up, there was a...cold, wet ice pick next to my pillow. I thought it was a hallucination and threw it away."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

"The second dream was of a stripped black electrical wire. I was strangling her neck with all my might... When I woke up, that wire was wrapped around my wrist."

"The third time, it was a wrench... the fourth time, a paper cutter... the fifth time, a paperweight..." He counted them one by one, his voice growing softer and colder, as if stating facts unrelated to himself. "Each time, the weapon in my dream is different. Every time I wake up, that thing is within my reach. Sometimes it's by my pillow, sometimes it's on my bedside table..."

"I'm going crazy... I secretly threw all those things away, but they... or similar things, always reappear in new dreams. Until... the thirteenth time."

His gaze involuntarily fell on the pair of pliers on the floor, stained with dark brown dirt.

"The thirteenth dream, that's it." He pointed to the pliers. "I dreamt that I used it... to crush her wrist bones. I heard a sound... When I woke up, I frantically searched through my drawer and found it in the deepest part of my apartment. The landlord said it was a pair of pliers left behind by the previous tenant."

His narration was like a bomb dropped into the room. Everyone was stunned by this unbelievable account.

"You...you mean, you dream of some kind of weapon, and when you wake up you can get the real one?" Lynx stared wide-eyed in disbelief. "How is that possible?! You're making this up!"

"Sleepwalking?" Lin Qian frowned, offering a relatively rational guess, "Have you seen a psychologist? Perhaps it's some kind of severe sleepwalking disorder, causing you to be unconscious..."

"I don't know!" Cheng Tan abruptly interrupted her, his emotions somewhat out of control. "I don't know if I was sleepwalking! I checked, my apartment door lock was intact, there were no signs of forced entry! Those things were like...like they appeared out of thin air! And why these weapons of choice? Why that woman of choice?"

He grabbed his hair and screamed in agony, "Until that morning, I saw that newspaper! An old newspaper from thirteen years ago! The photo on it was of the woman I'd killed thirteen times in my dreams! Li Wan! The report mentioned several murder weapons found at the scene, including... a bloodstained pair of pliers!"

He raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Old K and Shadow, then sweeping over the others: "Now, tell me! Is this a coincidence?! This room! These weapons! And you! What's going on?! Who's behind this?! Who?!"

"I just couldn't resist posting a help request!" he said painfully.

Outside the window, those cold eyes continued to watch silently, as if observing a play with a pre-written script.