There were no other clues in the corridor of the tenth cycle, so Mr. Zhongli stepped into the eleventh cycle once more.
This time, the lights in the first corridor shifted to an eerie, dim red.
A baby was crying loudly, the bathroom door was wide open, and the door at the end of the corridor was shut tight.
Clearly, this loop was pushing him into the bathroom.
Walking in, Grandpa Zhongli looked down at the baby embryo in the sink.
Strangely, the crying wasn't coming from the embryo in front of him.
He glanced around again and noticed that small hole in the wall next to the bathtub.
Something about that hole felt off—but after checking it thoroughly, he still couldn't find anything.
As he stepped out of the bathroom, Grandpa Zhongli looked to the left and spotted a string of words on the wall: "hello."
Just like before, it was written in a language from another world, but in-game it translated to "hello."
When he walked to the gate, he realized the baby's crying was actually coming from the cabinet (well, more like a fridge) hanging from the ceiling.
Then, he noticed a line of writing on the wall.
Earlier, when his flashlight lit it up, some of the letters disappeared.
"A new puzzle?" Grandpa Zhongli muttered to himself.
He turned around and headed back.
Sure enough, words started appearing at the corner, and the previous writing began to change—definitely linked somehow.
When Zhongli pointed his flashlight at the word "hello," the letter l vanished.
He snapped a picture—another letter disappeared.
Back and forth he went until only the letter o was left.
Seeing that, he went back to the wall at the gate.
Just as he suspected, the missing letters from "hello" had floated over there.
That finished the sentence:
I can hear them calling to me from hell!
At that moment, an eerie, ghostly woman's laugh echoed through the corridor—and the sound of the next loop unlocking followed right behind.
The spectators watching were floored, and their respect for Mr. Zhongli jumped up another notch.
They always thought Zhongli from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was just a chill dude who handled bookkeeping—but clearly, he's got guts and smarts like no other.
Most of them had been scared stiff and stuck somewhere between the fourth and fifth loops, and here he was, already breaking the eleventh.
Dude really didn't know fear.
Even in such a creepy, terrifying setting, he calmly pieced together clues like it was nothing.
Hu Tao, the actual director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, wasn't even this brave—yet this Zhongli looked more like the real Hall Master.
Rui Shen slumped back in his chair helplessly, giving Mr. Zhongli a thumbs-up in silence.
The game "Silent Hills P.T." is technically just a demo. It's short—if you know all the steps, you could finish in half an hour.
But for regular players, collecting all the clues can take days.
And yet, Mr. Zhongli looked like he was about to clear it in one sitting.
Well, he is the oldest of the Seven after all.
Back in the game, Zhongli entered the twelfth loop.
This time, the clock in the hallway finally changed—midnight sharp.
00:00.
The spookiest time of the day.
The chandelier by the front door swayed slightly, and strange shadowy figures floated like ghosts.
The radio started playing again—soft, calm music in an unfamiliar language.
"Wait, that's not some otherworldly language…"
Grandpa Zhongli paused, listening carefully.
Eventually, he confirmed—it was an ancient language from a long-lost civilization.
One still recorded in old texts—and one he just so happened to be fluent in.
After a few minutes of listening, he pieced together five sentences:
[I whisper his name in a low voice][I stand still while I wait][That hand is cold][Waiting for this to end][My body is trembling]
They seemed connected to the four earlier lines:
[As his fingertips run across my hand][I waited motionless][I believe I heard a call][Through the fog of fading consciousness]
If these lines truly formed a complete story, how should they be arranged?
Dozens of possible combinations flashed through Mr. Zhongli's mind before he picked the one that made the most narrative sense.
But he knew—it all depended on the puzzle that came next.
The pieces were all there. They'd be used soon enough.
He pushed the door and entered the thirteenth cycle.
This time, his vision blurred slightly—like the dizzy feeling after a drink or two.
Each step he took felt longer, like covering three paces at once.
The photos on the walls had morphed into wide, unblinking eyes staring at him.
At the corner, the bathroom door was wide open again. The lighting inside was normal.
No baby embryos in the sink this time.
But the end of the corridor warped in a bizarre way—it looped straight back to the first hallway corner.
From the corner to the end, it was still just... another corner.
Due to his current weakened state, almost like that of a mortal, Grandpa Zhongli felt a little dizzy navigating the endless thirteenth cycle.
He couldn't even remember the last time he felt dizzy.
Still, the more disoriented he got, the more careful he became, analyzing every detail around him.
Every corner led back to the first hallway. The state of the bathroom changed each time.
After several loops, Mr. Zhongli finally noticed something.
One of the photo frames had fallen to the ground, revealing a hole in the wall.
Right behind it was the same hole seen in the bathroom.
He peered through and saw the bathroom interior.
The lights were on, but no one was inside—though a woman's painful coughing could be heard.
At the same time, a low radio transmission came through:
"It's time to act.""Our flesh is rotting to the bone.""I'm speaking to honest, decent people whose jobs are being stripped away, whose lives are being gutted."
The woman's coughing grew worse—like someone was choking her hard.
Slaps. Cries.
"Yeah, you! You know what you have to do."
Then came the sound of a knife being drawn.
Her terrified scream, then slicing, a dying moan.
And silence.
Zhongli pulled back from the peephole.
Above it, a line of text had appeared:There is no way out.
That made Grandpa Zhongli realize—they were approaching the final stretch.
As he walked around the corner, the bathroom door was wide open again, lights bright, and the baby embryo lay still in the sink.
He stepped inside, looked at the embryo—and the radio kicked on again:
"You got fired, so you drank yourself numb.""She had to take a part-time job at the convenience store.""The only reason she's earning anything is 'cause the manager's into her.""You won't forget, right?""Just ten months ago..."
At this point, the truth was almost fully revealed.
The husband lost his job, spiraled into drinking.
His wife had no choice but to work to support them.
Paranoia crept in—he suspected she was cheating with her boss.
Even thought the kid she was carrying wasn't his.
In the end, it led to the tragic end of the entire family.
Grandpa Zhongli shook his head and sighed, "Trust—once that's gone, there's nothing left."
A man losing his job, drowning himself in booze, and relying on his wife. Cheated by her.
How tragic.
After that solemn moment, he carried on.
He passed through a few more corners, and the corridor finally returned to normal—entering the fourteenth loop.
Lights were steady, time stayed frozen at midnight.
The next door was shut, and the bathroom—dark and wide open.
The creaking chandelier and the sound of rain outside were louder now.
But aside from that? It all seemed… normal.
No clues in the bathroom, nothing odd in the hallway.
With no way forward, Mr. Zhongli paced back and forth.
And then—reality started glitching.
The hallway tore itself apart visually.
Things got worse with every step.
And then—darkness.
Ten seconds later, white text appeared:
[I know you. I know you.][And you've already started the game.][I'll always remember that day, twenty years ago.][I have something to tell you.][Call me. — J.]
When the screen came back, he was in the same little room as before.
Only difference—no cockroach.
"What the hell's going on?" Zhongli muttered, scanning the familiar space.
Those lines just now—sounded like they were meant for him, not just the game's character.
But he picked up on something—the name J, and a phone number, maybe?
That name—"J"—it sounded like a codename. Could also hint at a place... like Mondstadt or Fontaine.
As he processed the clues, Zhongli opened the door and stepped back into the corridor.
It was dark and dead quiet.
The clock had reset—11:59.
The exit door was locked.
Zhongli went back to the clock and stared at the time, frowning.
Then he chuckled.
He stayed still and waited.
When the time hit 00:00, the bell rang.
A few steps forward—just as he neared the bathroom door, he heard the baby's laughter.
If there's no sound of the door unlocking yet, that meant it was time to go into the bathroom.
The baby lay silently in the sink. Then, that eerie music started playing again—alongside the ghost woman's agonizing groans.
It was impossible to tell where the voice was coming from—so Zhongli stayed put.
About 30 seconds later, the sounds faded.
Zhongli stepped out of the bathroom.
No ghost in sight.
He made his way to the phone in the corner.
The phone was a major clue.
And that name—J—was still bugging him.
Could be a codename, sure.
So, Zhongli tried calling out some names that started with the "J" sound:
"Jack, Jeff, John, Joseph…"
Then came the baby's laughter again.
Right after, he felt something cold brush against his hand.