The Beautiful Pariah is Being Pestered Again [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Did the Duke leave?

Song Mo was still in a daze, not quite sure what had happened. He waited cautiously in the corner for a while, and only after confirming the Duke truly wasn’t coming back did he finally cheer up.

“System, System! I think I defeated the Boss!”

Contrary to his expectations, the System remained silent, failing to pop up and offer any praise. Song Mo pouted in dissatisfaction, but he quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

His attention was soon captured by other things.

Outside the door lay a long corridor, lined with murals, reliefs, suits of armor, and vases. They all featured complex, symmetrical patterns. Because the hall was completely deserted, these exquisite, pandering details felt somewhat eerie and desolate.

Song Mo didn’t find it eerie at all.

He tilted his head back, looking from one object to another, as giddy as a puppy playing in the sun. These things didn’t exist in the hospital, his home, or his school. They were so beautiful!

He thought happily to himself that dying wasn’t entirely a bad thing after all.

Once he had played enough and exhaustion began to set in, Song Mo let out a yawn. It was only then that he realized the corridor seemed a bit too long. When he had rushed out to save the players earlier, it had only taken a few steps to reach the stairs. Now, no matter how far he walked, the path never seemed to end. Left or right, it was just an infinite loop of hallways.

Strange. Was the castle laid out like this before?

Song Mo had no choice but to return to his room.

Perhaps because he had spent so much time exploring the hallway, the room now felt massive. It was divided into two separate suites, with a shared bathroom situated between them. Connecting the two suites was a living area featuring rosewood bookshelves and a sofa. Song Mo picked up a book to flip through, but finding it filled with strange, indecipherable text, he eventually gave up.

“System, I’m so bored,” Song Mo said, resting the incomprehensible book on top of his head as he sprawled out on the carpet. He called out to the void with a sense of listlessness. “Why don’t you come out and talk to me?”

The System remained strictly professional and impartial, maintaining its silence.

Song Mo muttered “mean thing” under his breath and went to look for food. He found some overly sweet pastries. The flavor was average, but since Song Mo had never been allowed to eat rich foods in his past life, he ate them with great relish. Afterward, he curled up on the sofa and fell fast asleep, snoring softly.

While he was sleeping soundly, the sound of a heavy object hitting the floor suddenly echoed through the room. He sat up with a start, the book sliding off his face and hitting his knees.

Song Mo let out an “ouch” and rubbed his leg, looking toward the source of the noise—only to lock eyes with several uncertain and suspicious gazes.

They were dressed strangely, looking entirely out of place, and carried weapons that looked straight out of a video game.

It was the players.

Song Mo greeted them happily, “Hello there!”

No one answered him. He tilted his head in confusion.

The spatial rift had opened and closed rapidly. The players immediately spotted the NPC sitting in the middle of the room. The NPC was wrapped in a messy nightgown. His soft cheeks, slender wrists, and a neck so thin it looked like it could be snapped with one hand… every visible inch of skin was covered in red marks that disappeared beneath his clothes.

On the hem of his pristine white nightgown, there were a few spots of bright red blood, making it impossible not to wonder where they came from.

Every detail suggested that this seemingly pure yet “promiscuous” bride had recently been punished, humiliated, and tormented by his furious, cuckolded husband. The truth was unspeakable, yet blatantly obvious.

For some reason, the players all blushed and silently looked away.

Only the man standing at the front of the group was different. His calm gaze swept over his teammates and then over Song Mo, capturing every undercurrent of shifting emotion. Then, he took a step forward and spoke to the NPC.

“Hello.”

Finally, someone was talking to him! Song Mo was overjoyed and said quickly, “Hello, hello! My name is Song Mo. What’s yours?”

“Ji Bufeng.”

Song Mo looked at his face and remembered him as the player who had helped him out in the hall earlier. He said happily, “I remember you.”

He met a pair of eyes that held no emotion. Ji Bufeng stood a few steps away, watching him quietly without responding.

Song Mo froze, and his smile slowly faded.

Ji Bufeng was very wary. As a captain, he was habitually calm. He had led his team through countless life-and-death dungeons to reach the top of the leaderboards. But last night, he had lost his composure. He had actually spoken up for an NPC and that strange lapse in judgment had nearly cost one of his teammates their life.

Ji Bufeng was instantly on guard.

Charm. This NPC likely possessed a passive skill that caused people to have a favorable impression of him. However, it wasn’t that strong. Right now, as long as Ji Bufeng resisted intentionally, there were no signs of his will wavering.

But clearly, his teammates weren’t as steadfast.

“Do you still remember me, then?” One man stepped forward from behind him, grinning as he pointed to his own face. Seeing Song Mo’s confusion, he curled his fingers like a claw and made a grabbing motion over his heart, looking as relaxed as if he hadn’t just been on the brink of death.

Ji Bufeng: “…”

Song Mo had a sudden realization. “It’s you!”

“You remember! I’m Wu Xuan, the most indispensable member of our team,” Wu Xuan introduced himself with a grin. “I almost sacrificed myself for you, so you have to remember me.”

Before Song Mo could speak, the other teammates grew indignant. “You’re the most indispensable? So we’re just expendable?”

“I’m Wang Mengtong, support.”

“Jiang Qiushui. When Wu Xuan almost died earlier, I was the one who healed him back.”

“Zheng Wang.”

They all spoke at once, making Song Mo feel a bit dizzy. He nodded repeatedly, greeting each of them in turn.

The room fell into a brief silence. Song Mo, feeling a bit like a host, friendlily brought out some small snacks to share with them.

Wu Xuan was the first to grab a piece. “Great, I was starving.”

Not only did he eat, but he also tried to stop the others, pulling the plate into his own arms. “Hey, hey, none of you are allowed to steal these!”

He ended up getting jokingly pummeled by his teammates.

Song Mo rested his head on his hand, watching them with curiosity. “You guys get along so well.”

“Right?” Wu Xuan laughed, then suddenly added, “It’s getting late. Can we stay here for the night?”

Song Mo had no objections. “Of course you can.”

There were two suites; he would stay in one, and the others could stay together in the other.

As the night deepened, Song Mo took a change of clothes and entered the bathroom.

The moment he left, the expressions of the people in the room changed. Ji Bufeng frowned, looking at Wu Xuan with disapproval. “Are you crazy?”

“Captain, don’t be so stiff,” Wu Xuan leaned back on the sofa, popping a snack into his mouth. “Don’t you think this little ‘wife’ is beautiful?”

Ji Bufeng’s brow furrowed even deeper. “You dare to mess around in a dungeon? Are you afraid you aren’t dying fast enough?”

Jiang Qiushui tried to take a snack, but Wu Xuan slapped his hand away. “The skill I exchanged for in the last dungeon makes me immune to any toxins. You better not eat these.”

Hearing this, Jiang Qiushui froze.

To the side, Wang Mengtong and Zheng Wang tried to open the door, only to be bounced back. Every other exit was the same. They couldn’t leave; this was a sealed space.

Wu Xuan’s lazy smile faded slightly as he looked toward the bathroom, where the sound of running water was coming from. “We have to fish for some information if we want to get out, right?”

Ji Bufeng stared at him coldly for a few seconds before looking away. “Know your limits.”

Despite his words, he had essentially consented to Wu Xuan’s plan.

Just then, the sound of the shower stopped. Song Mo’s voice came from inside. “I forgot to grab a towel. Could someone pass one to me?”

Here it comes.

The group exchanged glances, all of them heightening their guard.

Since he had been checking the exits, Wang Mengtong was currently closest to the bathroom. He picked up a dry towel from the sofa and walked to the door.

“Here it is.”

As he spoke, he stepped back half a pace, his other hand reaching for the weapon at his waist, ready to attack at any moment. The others didn’t move immediately, but they all held their breath, ready to strike.

Under everyone’s watchful gaze, the bathroom door opened.

First to drift out was a fragrance the moist, soft scent of roses after rain. The bathroom light diffused through the steam into a hazy, soft glow, illuminating the hand that reached out. It was slender and pale, with knuckles that looked delicately carved, exquisite down to the fingertips.

In the center of the palm sat an incongruous wound.

Wang Mengtong stared dazed at that hand, and the weapon in his other hand instinctively lowered.

The person inside tugged on the towel, but it didn’t budge. He let out a confused, “Hmm?”

Wang Mengtong’s throat hitched. For some reason, the words slipped out: “Did he hit you?”

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