7. A true hero venturing across the land must carry an S686.

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Yet Chen Sheng was so composed and calm that the middle-aged man and the young master Qi were thoroughly frightened—especially young master Qi, who nearly screamed in terror, “She lied to me! She’s deceiving me! She never meant to let me go!”

Chen Sheng immediately sensed there was a story behind this. In other words, he had just found a clue to this game’s scenario.

So Chen Sheng asked. He believed these two “NPCs” would certainly talk—if not them, then the others present would reveal scraps of information.

“Since you’re involved now, there’s no harm in telling you,” the middle-aged man nodded without hesitation.

“Save me first!” Young master Qi’s earlier struggle had caused him to lose much more blood, and now his face was ashen, desperately indicating he could still be rescued.

“My daughter is a doctor. She’s on her way here,” the middle-aged man suddenly said, which made Chen Sheng glance at him.

There was something odd about his tone.

Just moments ago he’d been stopping him with all his strength, but now, his attitude showed he didn’t care at all about young master Qi’s fate.

Thinking of this, Chen Sheng said, “I’m a doctor. Let me do it.”

Though he worked at a psychiatric hospital, he was indeed a legitimate physician, with a proper license.

The middle-aged man was instantly stunned, his eyes filled with disbelief.

After all, anyone would be shocked to hear a man who had just been killing people claim to be a doctor.

Chen Sheng squatted down. He expected the healing game to give him some kind of treatment prompt for saying so, like suddenly having medicines at hand—after all, in games, injuries are usually cured with small red bottles. Yet to his surprise, there was no prompt at all.

“That’s odd. Wasn’t I just given a fruit knife to stab someone?” Chen Sheng muttered to himself.

Could it be that the fruit knife wasn’t actually given by this healing game?

But if it wasn’t part of the game, how could an ordinary fruit knife have such outrageous properties? As the saying goes, anything produced by the system is bound to be top notch. Even if this is just a game system, it counts as a system!

Never underestimate the value of supplies.

Just as Chen Sheng was puzzling over this, he noticed his “starter equipment” finally appeared.

A shadow of a gallows materialized, a noose descended, and hooked itself around young master Qi’s neck.

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Then, Chen Sheng felt a sense of control over young master Qi’s life.

“Life and death hang by a thread.”

Accompanied by a voice whispering in his ear, as though from a hallucination, Chen Sheng suddenly realized that he had just been picking “starter equipment” in the “Beginner’s Village.”

Moreover, once the selection met the standard of the “novice guide,” it would be equipped immediately.

Chen Sheng couldn’t help but marvel at the uniqueness of this healing game’s mechanics—it was nothing like those flashy games promising red packets at entry, which actually collect personal information.

Thinking of this, Chen Sheng hurried to extend young master Qi’s life.

It was as if the hourglass had stopped.

In an instant, young master Qi’s bleeding wounds ceased—though the wounds were visible, no blood flowed.

“You really are a doctor?” Now revived, young master Qi’s eyes widened, his expression nearly murderous.

After all, it was Chen Sheng who had stabbed him.

“Do you want to see my medical license?” Chen Sheng raised an eyebrow, his tone mocking.

Outside this healing game, he often wore a blank expression, just a façade, not his true self—here, his nature emerged freely.

“You actually carry that around?” Young master Qi was utterly astonished.

It had to be said, this “starter equipment” was formidable. As soon as Chen Sheng chose to prolong young master Qi’s life, the young master sprang back to life, as if he hadn’t been injured at all.

“Heroes travel the world with an S686—why can’t I carry a medical license?” Chen Sheng said with a straight face to match his irreverence.

“Alright, young master Qi, since your wounds are temporarily staunched, let’s deal with the matters at hand,” the middle-aged man sighed deeply.

“Shouldn’t he be taken to the hospital?” Chen Sheng asked, puzzled. The healing game was designed with extreme realism, so sending young master Qi to the hospital would be logical.

“Don’t you find the people here strange?” The middle-aged man gestured.

Chen Sheng looked over and immediately understood his meaning.

The people nearby—the film crew—were far too calm. Not just calm, but as if they hadn’t seen anything, continuing as before.

For instance, Xiao Li, responsible for filming, was still adjusting his equipment.

The stage manager Su was bustling about, arranging tasks given by the director—even though the director, who had assigned those tasks, now lay dead on the ground.

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Chen Sheng instantly realized that this old mansion, steeped in history, was likely a haunted house.

More precisely, a ghost domain.

A massacre had once occurred here, claiming many lives, and the victims now repeated the events of their lives over and over.

This explained why the middle-aged man showed no anger at the director’s earlier insults.

“How did you survive?” Chen Sheng asked.

Clearly, there had been some survivors of the massacre.

It was certain that the middle-aged man and young master Qi were among them.

Yet it couldn’t be said only these two survived, because the middle-aged man had mentioned his daughter—she was likely a survivor as well, but due to “script timing,” had not yet appeared.

“You know?” Young master Qi looked at Chen Sheng with suspicion, for he couldn’t recall anyone like Chen Sheng being present at the time.

If such an eccentric doctor had been there, surely he would remember.

“I guessed,” Chen Sheng shrugged—it wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Tell me what happened. After all, I’m an innocent bystander,” he added.

“How did you get in?” Young master Qi countered, looking around. The mansion’s door was open, but his expression suggested he saw an invisible wall.

“I walked in,” Chen Sheng lied with open eyes.

Young master Qi inhaled sharply, then uneasily shouted to the middle-aged man, “She wants more people dead! I knew it—she’s a ghost, her words can’t be trusted! Now we’re doomed! We should’ve run further away! We never should’ve come back!”

“Could you have escaped? Have you forgotten how the others died?” the middle-aged man said, his voice low and eerie.

Young master Qi froze, then, dispirited, slumped to the ground.

Chen Sheng was not here to listen to their mutual lamentations. He said, “Come, tell me your story... cough, what happened! Maybe I can help you.”