Chapter Twenty: The Box, the Illusion, and the Surroundings

“Rules? Is that even possible? That would mean we're dealing with two completely different Backrooms, not like before, where each rule followed the other in a logical progression.”
Jiang Wan’s face was tinged with bewilderment. She hadn't experienced much and couldn't tell if this was normal.
Chen Qing pondered deeply, his expression grave. “Yes… I've been thinking about this too. Is this really normal? In all the Backrooms I've seen, even when the rules were numerous, they always built upon a central theme. But rules as diametrically opposed as these… this is the first time I've encountered it.”
Jiang Wan asked again, “Is it possible someone altered… no, did something to add a new rule here?”
He sighed, remembering those so-called ‘partners’ of his.
“It’s possible. Likely, even, but that's only rumor—never confirmed. So… let’s treat this as the result of some non-heritage artifact.”
He fell silent for a moment, then continued, “Let’s suppose, for now, that separation isn’t our problem. We only need to consider whether we can leave this classroom.
Do you think the key point of this Backroom is inside the classroom?”
Jiang Wan hesitated, glancing around, “But we just went out. If I recall last time, I doubt we’d survive breaking the rules.”
“True… but these written words shouldn’t lie. Pure kindness and malice, built from truth woven into deception…
So the information between the lines can be trusted.”
“Then you think…”
“The problem lies with ‘them’.”
Chen Qing tapped the blackboard, underlining those two words again.
“They arrived, and killed the students—not like the ‘hallway’ lured in victims as we thought.”
He closed his eyes, tapping the wall twice with the chalk. “So… the hallway isn’t the focus. The focus is time.”
As his words settled, the world outside the window suddenly dimmed.
The intense light that once poured through vanished in an instant, and with the loss of the source, the candles in the classroom extinguished at the same moment.
“Chen Qing!” Jiang Wan remained composed, flicking on the emergency flashlight in her pocket to cut through the darkness.
Opposite her, Chen Qing stood frozen, seemingly lost in thought.
“Chen Qing! Hey! What are you doing!” Jiang Wan’s shout jolted his awareness.
Yet as Chen Qing returned to himself, he frowned, his mood tinged with anger as he looked at Jiang Wan.
“Hey! Why were you just standing there?”
“Standing there?”
He looked at Jiang Wan, questioning her, “Just now… what did you see me doing?”
Jiang Wan didn’t understand, but answered carefully, “Nothing, really. You were just standing there, spaced out. Your gaze wasn’t focused on anything.”
In that instant, Chen Qing’s anger faded, replaced by an abnormal calm. “That’s not right.”
He turned to look around. The darkness hadn’t changed; the environment remained the same. That made him pause, but also relax. “Ah. It’s me who’s off.”
Jiang Wan listened, baffled by his words.
“What does that even mean?”
He shook his head and finally explained, “Just now, I saw a passage open in the room. In the blink of an eye, you leapt into it without a word.”
“And then?” Her expression was strange.
“Then? I just stood and watched you.”
“Just… stood?”
He looked at Jiang Wan, nodded, and didn’t argue further.
Still, he frowned, a guess forming in his mind.
“So… when the classroom turns pitch black, we can’t go outside.”
“And with at least two people present… ‘it’ shouldn’t be able to kill us directly.”
Jiang Wan thought for a moment, confused, “Why does it matter if there are more than two people?”

Chen Qing pointed at the blackboard and explained, “Remember the story from the first classroom? He killed his companion and ate the flesh to survive, then was killed himself. I don’t think he went outside—he knew it was dangerous… That doesn’t fit the standard for malice.”
Jiang Wan frowned and nodded.
“And the second point…”
As Chen Qing spoke, his voice faded. Jiang Wan looked up, but the place was empty.
She froze, then shouted loudly, “Chen Qing! Chen Qing? Hey! What’s going on!”
Turning around, she realized the window now let in faint light.
Something happened to him?! Where did he go?!
“Night… can’t be spent alone?”
She paled. Did this mean it was her last day?
“Unless I can find Chen Qing…”
She glanced toward the back door, and as she did, she saw a face peering in—a chin atop the head, eyes below, still curving downward in a grotesque grin.
The creature looked like an old man; when his head was upright, his whole body seemed inverted. His features appeared in all the wrong places.
As it smiled, the mouth stretched downward in a warped arc.
Twisted and monstrous, the old man watched Jiang Wan and grinned.
Then his body began to retreat from the doorway. His limbs were long and thin as bamboo poles; half an arm stretched nearly several meters.
If seen as a whole, the old man’s body resembled a giant white-legged spider.
A chill ran down Jiang Wan’s spine. That smile lingering as the old man retreated was burned into her memory.
She stumbled, something unknown tripping her ankle.
She didn’t look back, but seeing the old man vanish into the hallway, she started to walk after him.
“He said… the key to leaving should be in the hallway…”
“He said…”
Before she finished speaking or stepped forward, a powerful repulsive force pushed against her. Not that the force itself was great, but that Jiang Wan rushed into it too quickly.
Her nose stung, eyes squeezed shut, and the world changed dramatically.
When she opened her eyes again, the world was pitch black.
“And the second point.” Chen Qing looked at her and smiled. “The creature in the darkness uses illusions to control us.”
Seeing his smile, Jiang Wan now realized what had happened.
She blanched, glancing past Chen Qing toward the door, which was only a few meters away.
“But… if that’s true, it could just…”
“If two people enter the illusion together?” Chen Qing smiled and shook his head. “No, it can’t. If it could, anyone entering this Backroom would be doomed. How could Zhang Lan have escaped?”
He spoke softly as light began to filter through the window.
“Oh? Morning already?” Chen Qing closed his eyes, images forming behind his lids.
“Hm? What’s happening?” He asked Jiang Wan, but she didn’t answer.
He remained motionless, sitting down cross-legged to keep his body still.
“Can it really… not trap everyone in the illusion together?”
Chen Qing murmured, but soon a push came from behind.
He didn’t need to guess—it was Jiang Wan.
“Jiang Wan? Jiang Wan!”
He tried to speak, but his voice couldn’t reach her.
Yet he could hear her, a strange, stuttering sound.
But the sound was warped, as if… a recording played backward.
That was not a sound any human could make.
Every syllable, every word was twisted.

He followed the force, patting Jiang Wan’s shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, her actions only grew faster.
Meanwhile, Chen Qing’s vision began to fade.
“What’s happening…”
He stared into a world awash with swirling colors, old man heads spinning in every corner. The chairs morphed into parts of those grotesque heads, grinning and baring their teeth at him.
“What do I do… what do I do…” He sighed, gritting his teeth. With his vision gone, he couldn’t resist the force pushing him.
Then Chen Qing realized he’d lost his sense of touch.
He could no longer sense the direction of the force, nor feel anything on his body.
He clenched his teeth. Based on their positions, Jiang Wan pushing him should only take a few seconds.
“No… no!”
He opened his eyes wide. Even within the illusion, there were flaws.
For Jiang Wan to affect reality, she must be unaware she’s in the illusion.
So most of her senses remain intact; altering them would be difficult.
She only needs to alter her hearing…
He closed his eyes; vision was useless now. He wanted to test his theory.
He extended his hand; touch was gone too.
He walked a few steps, then bit down hard on his finger.
A smile formed as blood burst from his severed finger.
But there was no pain.
That was fortunate.
He smeared the blood and wrote on the blackboard.
He watched his illusory world—the upside-down, grinning old man’s face grew more ferocious.
Looking at the old man, Chen Qing sneered.
“Is that all?”
He felt his force blocked, pressed down until his finger stopped at a certain spot.
Chen Qing didn’t question it and kept writing there.
“I’ve lost vision, touch, and sound. I think you can still see, hear, and sense something.
Yes, if I’m right, the words I write now should differ from what I’m saying aloud.”
He kept writing, his spoken words growing faster.
“…
…
If I’m right, you shouldn’t be able to smell anything. Try it—I bet you can’t taste anything either.”
He wrote methodically, but his thoughts had already pierced the entity’s intentions.
Yes, to make her unaware of the blood, to convince her he was controlled and in the illusion, she must lose the scent of blood.
The entity controlled Jiang Wan, but couldn’t control Chen Qing.
“This is the only way to wake me—use the five senses I have left to break free.
So… the method should be obvious. The only sense I have left, unclouded by illusion, is taste.”
As the final word fell, he felt a faint metallic tang on his tongue.
The taste lingered, and as his eyes closed, the darkness returned.