Let's give space a touch of Chinese horror!

Chapter 92 A Strange Classroom

Where is he...?

Wait a minute, Old A, the online troll, suddenly realized: How did he end up here?!

Wasn't he just at home, cursing Red Robe and the First Legion in the group chat because his online troll account had been banned again? How did he suddenly appear in this room that looks like a classroom?

Putting aside the fact that he graduated from school several years ago, this classroom alone... is just too old and dilapidated.

The walls were a faded gray and green, with peeling paint in many places; a few incandescent light bulbs hanging from the ceiling emitted a pale light, and tiny dust particles could be clearly seen floating silently up and down in the air.

A huge blackboard occupied the entire front wall of the classroom. The blackboard itself was spotless, with several old-fashioned colored chalks placed in the black and white tray.

In front of the blackboard was a platform slightly raised above the ground, on which sat an empty wooden podium.

In front of the podium, rows of desks and chairs were arranged, perfectly aligned, even excessively so. The desktops were made of dark brown solid wood, covered with scratches of varying depths and blurry doodles, with occasional traces of ink and pencil marks.

These desks all looked very old, and some even had thick pieces of paper under the legs, obviously to prevent the worn-out legs from wobbling.

In the corner, a broom with brittle bristles leaned against the wall, next to a tin dustpan with a few scraps of paper and broken chalk bits scattered inside.

The air was also filled with chalk dust and the musty smell of moldy wood.

This was the first time Old A had ever seen such a dilapidated classroom—what planet still has schools with such terrible infrastructure? Even schools on desolate planets wouldn't be this outrageously run-down…

He instinctively raised his wrist, wanting to record the scene using his personal terminal. But when he looked down, he found his wrist was completely clean.

Where's his personal terminal?!

Old A was absolutely certain that he had never removed his personal terminal from beginning to end, and that it was impossible for anyone to remove it without alerting him.

What on earth is going on?!

Old A finally realized the seriousness of the situation, and his heart began to pound uncontrollably. He looked around, and the only consolation was that there were other people in the classroom besides himself.

To be precise, the classroom, which didn't look very big, was packed with people. Everyone's clothes and even age were different; some were wearing normal clothes, some were wearing home clothes, and some were wearing pajamas—they were obviously like Old A, who had been suddenly brought here while still at home.

The only thing they had in common was that their faces basically bore the same unease and fear as Old A's.

"Where am I?!"

A gasp came from behind, and the voice seemed... somewhat familiar.

Old A instinctively turned around at the sound.

"It's you!" Old A looked at the person in surprise.

The person who spoke up was just like him, a shill who stayed at home taking orders online, and many of the jobs were introduced to him by Old A after they met.

But if he remembers correctly, the place that person lives now... isn't on the same planet as him, right?

If he was knocked unconscious and brought here... then what about the other party? Could it be... that this was a group crime?!

Old A immediately tensed up.

Could they be space pirates?!

Otherwise, he would really have a hard time explaining how two people from different planets could appear in this strange classroom at the same time, and both of them had their personal computers stolen!

"Old A! It's you!"

Seeing a familiar face in unfamiliar surroundings, the other online troll visibly relaxed. But before he could even exhale, his peripheral vision caught sight of his surroundings again, and he tensed up once more. "Do you know where we are? I was just finishing my tasks at home for the day, and suddenly I'm here!"

"What?! You're like that too?!"

Old A had barely opened his mouth, not even having spoken, when another person sitting nearby exclaimed and joined their group chat: "Me too! I was arguing online with some idiot fan in red when suddenly a voice came through my ear. I didn't even hear what it was saying before everything went black, and when I woke up I was inexplicably sitting at this desk!"

As soon as the man finished speaking, those around him chimed in, "Me too! I was lying in bed, ready to finish my work for the day and then rest for a bit, and then I opened my eyes and found myself here!"

"Oh my god, I'm almost the same! What's going on?!"

"Yeah! How did we get here?! Why don't I have any recollection or feeling about it?!"

People gathered around, forming a circle near Old A, and started talking all at once about their experiences.

As Old A listened, he suddenly realized something was wrong.

"Wait, wait, you guys..." Old A looked around at the people, his face full of disbelief: "You all took that job with the Black and Red Coats and the First Legion too?"

"I accepted it."

"I answered it."

"Me too."

"What do you mean, 'what'? I just can't stand the Red-Clad Army and the First Legion that protects them, so what?! Am I not allowed to express my opinion?!"

"My studio accepted it."

"I'll change too..."

……

"It seems we're all the same..."

After hearing everyone's words, Old A's face turned even uglier. "We all cursed the Red-Clad and the First Legion online, and then we all showed up here!"

"This...this can't be, right?"

Everyone was startled by Old A's guess: "How could the First Legion manage to gather all of us, scattered across different planets, into this one classroom all at once?"

And... the thing that everyone finds hardest to understand is—

Why a classroom?

Even warehouses and uninhabited houses are more common locations, right?

Could it be a classroom...? Does it have some special meaning?

Especially after they recounted how they appeared, they were surprised to find that none of them had ever seen anyone else besides themselves.

When everyone opened their eyes, all they saw was a classroom full of people.

That is to say-

They all must have entered the classroom at the same time.

"The First Legion... I... I don't think they have that capability, do they?"

"Maybe they just gave us all drugs to make us unconscious?" Old A retorted.

But the others still refused to believe it, refused to believe that they were being targeted by the First Legion:

"We're just hurling insults and stirring up trouble online, and we're all paid to do it. The First Legion shouldn't be making such a fuss, right?"

"Yes, that's right! Isn't this considered imprisonment? If the First Legion did this, it's a blatant violation of the law!"

"Can't we just check the time? Everyone should remember roughly what time it was before they passed out, right? Let's see how much time has passed since then, and we'll know how long we've been unconscious—where's my personal computer?!"

The person who made the suggestion looked at his bare wrist with disbelief on his face.

The others who witnessed this also looked at their wrists: "My personal terminal is gone too!"

"Mine too!"

"My personal computer, the latest anti-loss model I just bought, is gone too!"

If finding themselves suddenly in an unfamiliar classroom only caused them a little panic, then when they discovered that their personal computers were missing, they were in complete panic.

"I...I don't care anymore! I want to leave here!"

"I'll go with you!"

The situation is too strange; it's beyond their comprehension! They need to leave this place first!

The group exchanged glances and rushed toward the classroom door, the chair and table legs scraping against the concrete floor with a screeching sound as they were knocked over.

The tall, thin man who was the first to reach the door almost lunged at it, grabbing the cold metal doorknob with both hands and pressing down hard.

"It won't open!" The veins on the tall, thin man's arms bulged, and his knuckles turned white.

However, the seemingly loose wooden door remained motionless, as if welded to the frame; the only response he received was a dull, short, but unyielding "click" from deep within the lock cylinder.

"The door seems to be locked!"

"Get out of the way! I'll handle this!" a burly man shouted gruffly, shoving the tall, thin man aside.

He took a deep breath, his shoulders tensed, and with all his might, slammed into the door—

"Bang!"

With a heavy thud, the door panel made a hollow, loud noise, causing dust to fall from the wall near the door frame. But the door remained firmly in place.

The burly man, however, was jolted back a step by the force of the door's impact, his face filled with disbelief and astonishment.

"Oh, right, the back door!"

"There's a backdoor too!"

The hoarse voice was like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, startling the crowd gathered at the front door, who immediately turned to run towards the back door of the classroom.

Before they could act, a panicked voice, even trembling with tears, came from the direction of the back door: "The back door is locked too! We can't open it!"

The crowd that had been planning to squeeze through the back door stopped in their tracks.

"Is...we...can't we get out of here?!" Someone asked this question. The voice was very soft, but in the deathly silence, everyone heard it clearly.

No one answered the question.

Old A also slumped backward, leaning against the window on the wall as if all his strength had been lost, his back feeling cold from the glass.

correct!

window!

Old A's eyes lit up, and he turned around abruptly.

He pulled hard on the latch, pushing it outwards with all his might—

The window remained completely still.

He tried the other windows next to him, but the result was the same—the windows were not locked, but they were as if they were glued on.

"Stop dawdling and get out of the way!"

Another burly man saw Old A's movements and realized that Old A wanted to leave through the window. He immediately grabbed a chair by the window and smashed it against the glass with a roar.

"Bang—!" A dull, loud noise.

The chair legs shook him so badly his hands went numb. The seemingly fragile glass only showed a blurry white dot, not even a crack that could have given them renewed hope.

"Bang--!"

"Bang--!"

"Bang--!"

……

The loud noise gradually subsided, eventually turning into the sound of someone slumping down and throwing away a chair.

Hope was extinguished, and the classroom fell into a deathly silence for a moment. Some slid down to the floor against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling. Others collapsed between overturned desks and chairs, motionless, as if their bones had been removed.

"What should we do now?"

"Are we... going to be locked up here forever?"

"I... I don't think so...? If it really was the First Legion that brought us here, then they'll definitely want to negotiate with us... Why don't we just wait for the First Legion to appear and agree to their terms directly? That should be fine." If the speaker's voice hadn't been trembling so badly, his words would have sounded quite reasonable.

"Anyway, once I get back, I'm definitely going to expose the First Legion's illegal imprisonment—"

"Ring ring ring ring—!!!"

A sharp, high-pitched, piercing bell suddenly rang out in the classroom, shattering the silence.

This gave the group of people quite a fright.

The person who had been slumped on the ground tensed up instantly, their pupils contracting sharply in their empty, unfocused eyes, reflecting a look of terror; their head, buried in their arms, jerked up, and their face, still wet with tears, was now filled with new and deeper fear.

Everyone instinctively looked up in the direction of the sound.

The ringing came from the square speaker near the front door, the red indicator light flashing regularly, and the sound had an unstable "crackling" noise. Some people instinctively covered their ears, but the sound was like countless cold steel needles, densely piercing their temples, and fiercely pulling at their eardrums and nerves.

"What...what's that noise?"

"It sounds...like an alarm?"

"Did they think the alarm was triggered because we were banging on the door and breaking the glass?!"

The death knell seemed determined not to stop, stubbornly repeating that monotonous, piercing syllable over and over again, in an endless loop.

Under the repeated, piercing ringing of the bell, some people finally broke down emotionally.

"How much longer will it keep ringing—?"

Before the words were even finished, the shrill ringing suddenly stopped.

It wasn't the natural stop of a ringtone, but more like a precise press of the stop button—one moment the ear canal was filled with sharp noise, and the next moment it was completely drained, leaving only a dizzying, buzzing tinnitus and a deathly silence.

The sudden silence was more terrifying than the piercing ringing of the bell, as if an invisible hand had suddenly gripped everyone's throats, causing even breathing to stop involuntarily.

A piercing ringing lingered in my ears, mingling with the muffled thud of my heart pounding against my chest.

In this silence that seemed to have been emptied out—

"despair."

"Tap, tap."

Clear, unhurried footsteps came from the distance in the corridor outside the door.

The rhythm of the tapping on the ground was even and steady, even carrying a leisurely and unhurried air.

But every step he took was on the edge of everyone's hearts.

Then--

"despair."

The footsteps stopped at the front door.