There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

The mansion, once resplendent and luxurious, crumbled to ruin in an instant. The walls exuded traces of decay, and blackness spread downward from the second floor.

The doors and windows of the mansion clattered as if a fierce gale was blowing outside, or as if countless hands were frantically pounding on them.

"The situation is urgent, we should no longer concern ourselves with who the murderer is, we must quickly end this... and find out the truth!" the pianist spoke rapidly.

He pulled out his diary and flipped to the last page, which listed various manners of death that occurred in the mansion, its meaning self-evident.

Upon seeing this, the manservant took a deep breath, drew his revolver, and said, "Alright, I'll be honest, I have the gun!"

The female writer's earlier conjectures had, in fact, precisely hit upon his thoughts.

But at this moment, the female writer did not jump out to respond; she stared intensely at the position of the second-floor corridor, watching the thing with twisted limbs crawl out.

The black viscous liquid dripped down through the gaps in the banister. A skinless, filthy, and squalid flesh lump monster, with several pale, ashy legs growing out of its eerie body, was wearing even stranger red high heels.

This was a monster with no superfluous body parts, only legs!

"Bang!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The huge sound of gunshots suddenly shattered the silence. After catching sight of the monster following the female writer's gaze, the manservant decisively fired.
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The bullets pierced the monster's body, splattering a dark liquid, and the force of four shots in quick succession managed to push the thing that was about to climb down back onto the corridor. The creature let out a piercing, ear-splitting screech.

The female writer also snapped back to reality at this moment, clutching her chest and taking deep breaths, but what lingered at her nostrils was an unbearable stench of decay.

"The stairs!"

Someone shouted, and the chef standing nearby rushed out. With tremendous strength, he dragged a double sofa over and propped it up to block the staircase entrance.

Although the effect of this blockade was minimal, if it could buy them even a sliver of time, that was a significant gain!

The pianist looked at everyone and spoke again, "Let's make it quick."

The lawyer looked toward the manservant and then continued, "It's unlikely for a servant to be armed. You must have found that gun somewhere else, right? If you did indeed attack me with a vase, then afterwards..."

It was possible to go to the main bedroom and retrieve the gun.

Just a vase smashing against the head might not kill someone, but it was enough to momentarily incapacitate them, allowing for them to be dragged to the bathroom to be dealt with.

Only, this speculation still lacked some key clues.

After hearing their rapid explanations, the manservant looked at the female writer and said, "Probably, because I'm a fanatic fan of the writer."

His words made everyone look over in surprise.

Normal people generally do not keep diaries, but the manservant was not normal.

He had a diary identical to the female writer's, even down to the style of the notebook, but lacking the profound literary talent of the writer, his was filled with stealthily-taken photos of her.

As the manservant lifted the mattress to retrieve the revolver, he suddenly noticed something unusually elevated at the head of the bed. Only after turning it over completely did he discover the diary hidden underneath.

Previously, when the writer's novels were placed in his room, he hadn't thought much of it. After all, as a servant of the mansion, it seemed harmless to read the books written by the homeowner, but it became a grave issue when that stalker-like diary surfaced.

The female writer, thoughtfully nodding her head, said if that was the case, the motive for the murder suggested earlier by the pianist could indeed be possible.

The pianist quickly noted it down in the notebook.

At that moment, the chef, straining against the sofa, exclaimed in panic, "No good, this won't hold them off at all!"

At his feet, there was already a pitch-black liquid flowing down the stairs, sticking to the soles of his shoes with a gluey texture, and making a sickening "glug glug" sound with each step taken.

The chef suddenly let go of the couch and stepped back several paces, the cushion landing on the staircase, quickly tarnished by the thick blackness.

Even the ceiling of the first floor had begun to permeate, the black liquid dripping down steadily.

From the second floor, submerged in the Abyss, came strange murmurs, an overwhelming cacophony, and in the dim light twisted creatures could be glimpsed baring their fangs and claws; the red high-heeled monster they had just repelled appeared again in the corridor.

That kind of fear lingered in everyone's heart, it was an uncontrollable panic and despair!

The piano player yelled anxiously, "There are five of us here, let's not waste time and quickly share our causes of death!"

At this moment, they could no longer care about accumulating deduction points, it was a question of how to survive. As long as they completed more than half of their tasks, they could initiate the game's countdown!

With this thought, the piano player's eyes flashed with a fierce light, but he quickly lowered his head to hide it.

The manservant said nervously, "But, I have no clues about any deaths on my end!"

The chef then spoke up, "I don't have any about myself either!"

The piano player frowned deeply in silence, but his gaze suddenly shifted to the bloodstains splattered on the sofa, as the guesses in his mind began to connect.

However, there wasn't enough time for them to finish deducing on their own. The couch blocking the staircase entrance wobbled a few times, and then a pair of slender hands with red nail polish reached out from behind it.

The sharp claws pierced the leather sofa with ease, another hand raised high from beneath the couch, its palm facing the stupefied group in the living room.

The next moment, a gaping maw split open on the raised hand and lunged forward!

The chef, who was closest, flipped over and fell backward just in time, as the looming maw with sharp fangs rushed over his head, "Bang!" smashing through the door behind him.

A chilling breeze poured in through the broken door, sending shivers down the spines of everyone in the living room. They saw on the second-floor corridor, around the freshly broken hole in the door, black tendrils and twisted monsters reaching out their mangled limbs toward them!

They were surrounded!

...

...

The dark second floor.

A bright red dress fluttered down the corridor, the dancer's face twisted into a grotesque snarl, her clawed hands piercing through the doors of the guest rooms, tearing entire doors off their hinges.

She peered sinisterly into the room, "Little sister, where did you run off to?"

There was no one in the room, only monsters seeping through the walls, emitting hoarse, wheezing sounds.

Not finding anyone, the dancer kicked the wall in anger, coincidentally severing a pale arm trying to reach out, which fell to the floor oozing black liquid.

She turned and continued toward the next guest room.

In a dark corner, Xu Shuo glanced at her impotently furious silhouette, then shifted his gaze to the first floor.

The girl had her hair neatly tied into a bun, wore a long-sleeved black and white dress, and though not tall, her legs were proportionally long, with shiny black leather shoes reflecting the light.

Qiuzi's skills were tailor-made for such scenarios, with incredibly high stealth capabilities.

It was after the use of the Character Card that the dancer became even more deranged, turning the villa into this nightmarish scene due to her sudden outburst.

Xu Shuo lay quietly atop the second-floor railing, his dark, deep pupils focusing on the several players below.