《White Square》


 第1章 The White Square

    Xiao Jingyan had always believed his life would stay inside the barbed-wire fences of the military base.


    Gunfire, shoutedmands, clouds of dust rising from the training ground.


    Sweat, scars, the roar and laughter of hisrades.


    He had lived there for seventeen long years. His memories were soaked in the smell of rust and gunpowder, and the only thing he was sure of was that he was a trainee soldier.


    But when he opened his eyes this time, the world was white.


    No walls. No ceiling. Even the air felt scrubbed clean, leaving nothing but a blinding emptiness. It wasn''t like the orderly training grounds of the base. It was more like... a void shaped into a square.


    Crowds filled the space, yet there was no noise.


    —Some stood in small groups, whispering.


    —Some kept to themselves, watching coldly.


    —Most stared upward at the giant screens hanging in the air.


    The screens floated high above, like the eyes of a judge, staring down at everyone. Words flickered across them:


    "Abandoned Hospital"


    "Black Cruise Ship"


    "Underground Altar"


    "Night Walk in the Village"


    Each came with a letter grade, from the lowest D up to S.


    "...Looks like they''re recruiting soldiers," was Xiao Jingyan''s first thought.


    Then his wristband—his standard-issue military tracker—suddenly beeped.


    That sound meant mission start or emergency alert back in the base. Reflexively, he tapped it.


    But instead of a familiar display, a strange holographic screen appeared in midair.


    Name: Xiao Jingyan


    Age: 28


    Occupation: Trainee Soldier


    Experience: —


    Stream Level: E


    Xiao Jingyan frowned.


    Stream? E-level?


    He had never been on a TV show, let alone a livestream. What did this mean?


    While he was still puzzling over it, he felt eyes on him. Not hostile, but... warm.


    He lifted his head.


    And saw him.


    A boy with a clean, fresh look.


    He wore gold-rimmed glasses, lenses spotless, his gaze clear. Soft ash-brown hair brushed his forehead, as if freshly dyed. A loose white shirt, light-wash jeans, plain sneakers.


    So ordinary he should have vanished in the crowd. Yet somehow, he stood out more than anyone.


    Xiao Jingyan glanced down at himself.


    Black t-shirt stretched tight over years of hard-trained muscle.


    &nbspbat pants with too many pockets.


    Heavy black boots that thudded when he stepped.


    Cropped military hair.


    Two people from two different worlds, staring at each other.


    And to Xiao Jingyan''s surprise—he felt a flicker of... liking?


    Maybe it was because, back at the base, he had only ever seen tough, scarred men like himself. This boy looked fragile, like the wind could knock him over. Clean, soft. It stirred something unfamiliar in his chest.


    The boy spoke first.


    "You''re new here, aren''t you?"


    His voice was as clean as his look, without a trace of harshness.


    Xiao Jingyan nodded.


    "I''m Gu Qingchen," he said with a small smile. "Before I came here, I was a doctor. I''ve cleared two dungeons so far. Both D-level."


    Gu Qingchen. Xiao Jingyan repeated the name silently.


    Gu went on, calm but not boasting: "Each dungeon is like a livestream arena. Everyone has their own channel. Viewers see everything we do inside. If you die in the dungeon..." He paused, as if testing Xiao Jingyan''s reaction, then added softly, "You die in real life too."


    A heavy chill settled in Xiao Jingyan''s chest.


    But Gu looked as if he had long accepted it. "Every dungeon has rules. To survive, you must clear the mission. The system scores you by performance and by your stream''s popularity. Points upgrade your channel. Viewers can send gifts, but those points only buy supplies. They won''t raise your level."


    His tone dropped, quieter now. "It took me two dungeons—barely surviving—to climb from E to D. I don''t dare touch C yet. But when I saw you just now... you looked strong. Would you team up with me? One more D-level run?"


    Xiao Jingyan stayed silent, listening.


    Gu''s eyes flickered, almost embarrassed. "Most of us won''t ever leave. They say only one in a hundred thousand survives an S-level. I... I don''t know if I can. But I don''t want to just die here. Even if I''m weak, I''ll keep going. Maybe—just maybe—there''ll be a miracle."


    He stopped, eyes dimming as if he had revealed too much.


    But the plea in his words was real.


    Xiao Jingyan looked at him.


    Seventeen years of training had hardened him, made him reserved. Yet something in him tightened painfully.


    Back home, no one had ever made him feel anything beyond brotherhood. But this boy—this soft, ordinary boy—looked like someone the world would crush without mercy.


    And Xiao Jingyan realized something startling.


    He didn''t want to see him die.


    So he said, simply:


    "Alright. I''ll team up with you."


    Gu''s head jerked up. Hope lit his eyes, brighter than the white screens above.


    "Thank you," he whispered, and actually bowed.


    "I don''t have much experience, but I know the rules. I''ll do my best to help you survive."


    Xiao Jingyan gave him a rare smile. "Good."


    It was a quiet, reassuring smile.


    Encouraged, Gu went on: "The dungeons are... strange. Normal morals, laws, logic—none of it matters inside. Only the mission. Sometimes, you even have to fight other players to the death."


    His voice dropped lower. "The survival rate of a D-level is five percent. And the scariest thing inside isn''t people. It''s..."


    He swallowed, forcing the word out.


    "...ghosts."


    Ghosts?


    Xiao Jingyan blinked. He had trained in every kind of extreme environment—dark tunnels, mock-terror drills, sleep deprivation. But this? This was beyond anything the army had prepared him for.


    Above them, the floating screens flickered.


    A new dungeon name appeared:


    [D-Level Dungeon: The White Waiting Room]


    —Opening Soon.


    A cold countdown glowed before their eyes.


    The crowd stirred. Some trembled with excitement. Others dropped to their knees in terror.


    Gu Qingchen looked at Xiao Jingyan, his eyes clear but pleading.


    Xiao Jingyan inhaled sharply and gripped his wristband tight.


    The countdown ended.


    The White Square shattered.


    And they were dragged, helpless, into the next world.


    The story had begun.

 第2章 The White Waiting Room

    Xiao Jingyan opened his eyes.


    Blinding white.


    He and Gu Qingchen sat side by side on a row of waiting-room chairs. The light above them was merciless, like an interrogation lamp pressed against their skin, burning into the eyes until they ached. Walls, ceiling, floor—even the shadows beneath their feet—all the same sterile white. The metal benches had been painted over too, but the cold hardness still seeped through, like they were sitting on a judge''s bench awaiting sentence.


    And then came the music.


    The kind of piano piece one might hear in a hospital lobby—meant to be soft, calming. But here, it played on a loop so broken it kept cutting out midsong, leaving raw silence before jerking back into its opening notes again. Each rupture scraped against the eardrum like a dull, serrated knife.


    The waiting room was full.


    But its occupants were not entirely human.


    They sat slumped with heads bowed, shoulders sagging, movements stiff. Skin pale to the point of bloodlessness, like thin sheets of paper trembling in the air. They made no sound, only waited in silence, row after row, like patients who would never hear their names called.


    The oppressive stillness forced Xiao Jingyan''s hand toward his hip—only to find nothing. No sidearm, no knife, not even the simplest weapon. Everything stripped away the moment he entered this place. He had been disarmed to the bone.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Gu Qingchen''s movement.


    Gu''s fingers brushed lightly over the small cross at his throat. The silver pendant glimmered faintly under the harsh light.


    Sensing his gaze, Gu looked up and said softly:


    "Your wristband."


    Xiao Jingyan blinked, then understood.


    The cross was no mere trinket. It was Gu''s version of his wristband. The system had given them each a different vessel, tailored to their image.


    He raised his arm and tapped the band.


    At once, a pale light-screen burst into being, flooding his vision like a cold curtain.


    [You have entered D-Level Dungeon · The White Waiting Room]


    [As a first-time streamer, you are granted one free chance to rename your livestream. Please use it now.]


    "Rename my stream?" he muttered.


    After a moment''s thought, he typed in: Gorilla.


    It was simple enough. At the base, the men around him had all been built like gorillas—broad shoulders, heavy arms, sweat soaking through t-shirts, bodies colliding like blunt weapons. If he needed a name, why not?


    But before he confirmed, he asked quietly, "What''s yours?"


    Gu adjusted his glasses, embarrassed. "...Little Gu."


    Xiao Jingyan: "..."


    In silence, he erased Gorilla and replaced it with Little Gorilla.


    His finger pressed confirm. A stray thought flitted across his mind:


    Cute, isn''t it?


    The screen shifted instantly.


    Now it was his livestream.


    The camera locked directly onto him, framing him head to toe. Beside him, Gu appeared at the edge of the shot, only his profile visible. Two men sitting together, side by side. Strangely—almost fitting.


    The realization tightened something in Xiao Jingyan''s chest. He shoved the thought down.


    Then the barrage began. Cold text flickered across the bottom corner of his vision:


    [Fresh meat on stream.]


    [Hope you die fast.]


    [E-level? Won''t last an hour.]


    [Hahaha, let''s see him cry.]


    The words floated past, sharp and casual as knives.


    Xiao Jingyan''s brows drew tight. He had endured worse—screamed insults from drill sergeants, curses hurled like bullets meant to break you. But those had been for training, to e steel from flesh. Thesements were different. Utterly detached, as if the audience wasn''t watching a man, but a disposable toy destined to bleed out for their entertainment.


    He killed the stream with a flick. The screen vanished. White silence returned.


    He opened the system shop.


    And froze.


    Everything was gray.


    Even the lowest-tier E-level items were grayed out, locked.


    He tapped one.


    [Cost: 500 points]


    [Your balance: 100 points]


    "..."


    He realized he didn''t even have enough to buy a needle.


    Before he could think further, the system voice cut through the air, echoing from nowhere and everywhere:


    [Wee, Streamers, to D-Level Dungeon · The White Waiting Room.]


    [This is a timed dungeon: 12 hours.]


    [Survive until the end and you clear it.]


    [Note: Every player has a different starting survival time. Remaining time must be purchased with points.]


    [We wish you all... a worthy death.]


    The temperature in the room seemed to drop.


    "...A worthy death?" Xiao Jingyan repeated under his breath.


    It wasn''t the cold ofmand. It was mockery—sick, playful, and inhuman.


    The next announcement fell like a hammer:


    [Initial Time Allocation:]


    [Player Xiao Jingyan: 1 hour]


    [Player Gu Qingchen: 3 hours]


    Numbers blazed across his screen.


    Xiao Jingyan''s stomach clenched.


    One hour.


    If he did nothing, he would be dead within sixty minutes.


    Gu, at least, had three.


    So much for equal footing. This wasn''t a game. It was rigged survival.


    Gu saw his expression and spoke gently: "It''s alright. You can earn points. There are hidden tasks in every dungeon.plete them, and you''ll get time."


    His voice was calm, soothing—like a doctor reassuring a patient. Not like someone trapped in a white hell.


    Xiao Jingyan forced himself to breathe and opened the task panel.


    Three lines glowed faintly:


    [Main Task: Survive 12 hours.]


    [Side Tasks: ???]


    [Hidden Tasks: ???]


    All cloaked in fog.


    He shut the panel, lifted his head.


    The "patients" sat motionless, skin papery and ghost-pale, their silence thick under the white light.


    The piano loop broke again, restarting with a jolt.


    And Xiao Jingyan understood—


    His one hour had already begun to tick away.


    本文为本作者作品《白域生存手册》英文翻译版。中英文同步更新。


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    第2章 The White Waiting Room

 第3章 The Number

    "Did you take a number?"


    Gu Qingchen''s voice was soft, but in the suffocating silence of the waiting room it pierced like a needle.


    Xiao Jingyan froze, following his gaze.


    And there it was—nearly every "patient" in the hall clutched a small slip of paper. They looked like crumpled tickets from an old-fashioned number dispenser, edges curled and fraying. He couldn''t make out the print on them, but the paper glistened faintly with damp, as if it had just been clawed out of the soil.


    The patients still sat with their heads bowed, shoulders slumped, movements mechanical. Their skin was bleached to the color of paper, as if their flesh was only a flimsy wrapping over emptiness.


    Gu whispered: "Most of these are NPCs. Only a few are streamers like us. Look closer."


    Xiao Jingyan raised his eyes and studied them.


    Yes—most were mannequins repeating the same dead gestures, but scattered among them were a handful that betrayed life. Their eyes darted, nervousness leaking through. A twitch of lips, a swallowed breath, a tongue flicking nervously against cracked lips. They hunched like the rest, but the act of pretending made them stand out all the more.


    He counted. Two dozen, maybe a few more.


    Gu, reading his thoughts, murmured: "Not all the streamers start here."


    Xiao Jingyan frowned, but kept silent.


    Gu suddenly stood, tugging him up by the arm. &quote. We need a number."


    They walked together toward the far corner, where an old number machine stood. Its casing was chipped and peeling, the surface scarred with deep scratches, as if clawed by something desperate. The display screen glowed faintly, backlight already dying.


    Xiao Jingyan pressed it once. Twice. The screen stayed stubborn, frozen like ice. He hit it harder—still nothing.


    "Broken," Gu said simply. "We''ll have to try the counter."


    The moment the words left his lips, the entire waiting room shifted.


    The "patients" moved.


    As if a switch had been thrown, they all raised their heads in unison. Eyes blank, mouths stretching into smiles. And then, grotesquely ordinary: chatting, laughing, strolling to vending machines to buy drinks and snacks.


    The ue had be a marketplace.


    The hidden streamers flinched. A few stood cautiously, still trying to blend in with the shambling crowd, their tension painfully obvious.


    Gu leaned toward him and murmured: "First to move, first to burn."


    Xiao Jingyan glanced at him.


    "In a D-level dungeon, you''ll find two kinds," Gu explained flatly. "Fresh meat like you. And people like me—too afraid to try C. Lowest difficulty or not, the death rate is still sky-high. Nobody wants to make the first move. Because the first move..."


    "...is the spark."


    Gu nodded. "The dungeon''s first target."


    His tone was clinical, detached. No fear, no hesitation.


    Xiao Jingyan felt a flicker of respect. He''d endured worse drills, worse terrors. Seeing Gu so calm, he steadied himself. He gave a short nod. "Fine."


    Together, they walked to the counter.


    The waiting room was laid out like any hospital—cracked white paint on the walls, ceiling strips of cheap fluorescent tubes sputtering with static buzz, the sour blend of disinfectant and mold hanging in the air. If not for the uncanny "patients," one might almost mistake it for the real thing.


    Five windows lined the counter. Only one was open.


    Behind the glass sat a clerk. His skin was ashen, stretched too tight across his skull. The smile on his face looked nailed into place, a grotesque parody of courtesy. His clouded eyes swiveled slowly, fixing on the two of them.


    "What department are you visiting?"


    His voice was slow, drawn out, absurdly polite.


    Xiao Jingyan hesitated. Before he could answer, Gu said at once:


    "Psychiatry. For both of us."


    Xiao Jingyan blinked.


    Gu tilted his chin toward the wall.


    A glossy poster hung there: Professional Treatment for Mental Illness. The image showed a middle-aged doctor in glasses, smiling warmly. His credentials listed neatly beneath. Reliable. Kind. Too perfect.


    The clerk asked again, "And what grade of doctor do you want?"


    Xiao Jingyan assumed they''d choose the expert in the poster, but Gu cut in fast:


    "The most ordinary one."


    The clerk''s grin widened. His mouth stretched further, unnaturally, as if hooked and pulled toward his ears.


    "Liu Ye. Intern. Room 2. That''ll be 200 points for two tickets."


    Without pause, Gu paid.


    Xiao Jingyan stiffened. His own balance barely reached 100. Buying even one number would have left him empty. Yet Gu had covered them both without a second thought.


    He opened his mouth to thank him, but Gu shook his head sharply. Leaning close, his voice dropped to a whisper:


    "No points left... you die instantly."


    Xiao Jingyan froze. A cold bead of sweat slid down his spine.


    They turned away from the counter.


    Only then did they notice the line forming behind them.


    A streamer—clearly a neer—stepped forward, forced a smile, and paid 100 points for an ordinary ticket. His balance dropped instantly to zero.


    The clerk''s smile tore wider, his eyes flaring red.


    Then his jaw unhinged.


    With a single wet crack, his mouth split open, stretching to an impossible angle.


    Before the neer could even scream, the clerk leaned forward and swallowed him whole.


    The sound was obscene—meat grinding between teeth, the drip of blood pooling onto the counter.


    The clerk licked his lips, voice still soft, almost cheerful:


    "Next."


    The room did not react.


    The "patients" went on with their conversations, their waiting, their false lives.


    Only the few hidden streamers stood pale and trembling, rooted in place.


    Xiao Jingyan''s chest constricted.


    Not ten minutes into the dungeon, and he had already witnessed death. If Gu hadn''t covered his ticket, he would have been the one inside that mouth.


    Then the system''s voice slashed through the air:


    [Congratulations, Neer. You have cleared the first stage of the tutorial.]


    [Reward: 500 points.]


    [Keep going. Die with dignity.]


    His wristband glowed. The number ticked up, from 100 to 600.


    But Xiao Jingyan''s gut only clenched tighter.


    This wasn''t training.


    This wasn''t simulation.


    This was a stage built on corpses, a theater where lives were chewed into spectacle.


    And somewhere beyond the glass, unseen viewers laughed as they waited for their turn to watch him die.

 第4章 Psychiatry

    A line of text slid across Gu Qingchen''s livestream.


    [Oh? That guy with the glasses—I''ve seen him before in another D-level dungeon. Nothing special. Always in the background. Still stuck here? Guess he''s not going to last long.]


    Gu''s expression didn''t change. The fluorescent glare reflected coldly off his lenses, hiding his eyes.


    Somewhere in the real world, an audience reclined in their chairs, smiling as they typed, entertained by his silence.


    Streamers who lingered too long in D-level dungeons were dismissed as "hopeless." Only those who clawed their way up to C-level or higher were worth betting on. The rest—either too weak or too cautious—were written off as nobodies.


    Gu Qingchen was the latter. ettable. Invisible. But unlike most, he had survived two dungeons already. Quiet. Steady. Alive.


    Xiao Jingyan''s stream, however, told a different story.


    The chat erupted in sudden activity:


    [Tall one''s good-looking.]


    [A rookie? Let''s check his channel.]


    [Newbies are the best—fun to watch, quick to die.]


    In minutes, his viewers jumped from a handful to over thirty.


    But Xiao Jingyan barely noticed. His mind was fixed on what he had just seen—the clerk splitting his mouth open and swallowing a streamer whole.


    It was the first time he had watched a human being die.


    At the base, seventeen years of training had shown him blood, injuries, the whistle of bullets grazing flesh—but never the finality of death. That had lived in theory, in recorded clips, in sterile lessons.


    What he had seen just now was not theory. It was flesh tearing, bone crushed, blood foaming in a mouth that smiled as it chewed.


    He stood frozen.


    Gu Qingchen touched his shoulder, his voice even: "In a D-level dungeon, about a hundred streamers go in. Fewer than ten walk out. This is only the beginning."


    His tone was steady, but his eyes carried a shadow of sorrow.


    "To survive here, first we have to survive ourselves."


    He led Xiao Jingyan toward the wall, where a map hung under the pale lights. The paper had yellowed at the corners, the lines blurred, but Gu studied it carefully before tapping one spot with his finger.


    "Psychiatry. Second floor, west wing. Room 2."


    Without another word, he started toward the stairs.


    Xiao Jingyan glanced at the elevator and frowned. "Why not take that?"


    Gu paused, voice calm as ever. "Some people take the elevator. They nevere back down."


    He said it casually, as ifmenting on the weather. Yet the words sent a chill racing up Xiao Jingyan''s spine.


    He followed. The sound of their boots against metal steps echoed in the hollow corridor.


    The second floor was colder.


    The psychiatry waiting room was wide and empty, rows of chairs stretching under glaring lights. Beyond the tall windows lay an old residential block—brick walls mottled, iron bars rusting. A church spire jutted behind the buildings, crowned with crosses that pierced the pale sky like skeletal fingers.


    Xiao Jingyan''s eyes flicked to the small cross at Gu Qingchen''s throat.


    "You religious?"


    Gu faltered, his eyes flickering before dropping. After a long silence, he murmured: "...Something like that."


    His tone was heavy, unreadable. And he said nothing more.


    Sensing he had touched a wound, Xiao Jingyan looked away. His gaze settled on the call-screen mounted on the wall.


    Two rooms were open: Room 2 and Room 6.


    Only two numbers were listed under Room 2—#1 and #2, belonging to Gu and himself.


    Room 6, however, was already rolling through a queue of patients, the numbers climbing quickly into double digits.


    Gu pointed at a poster on the wall. The smiling psychiatrist—the "expert" from before—was listed under Room 6.


    A sharp unease knotted in Xiao Jingyan''s gut.


    The psychiatry wing had yet to open for the day. No doctors. No nurses. The waiting room hummed with the empty buzz of fluorescent tubes.


    "When Room 2 calls us, we go in together," Gu said.


    Xiao Jingyan glanced at him, confused but silent. Strange—he had known the man less than an hour, yet already he was trusting him without hesitation.


    It was dangerous.


    In the base, the first rule hammered into him had been: trust gets you killed. Trusting strangers was handing them the knife at your throat.


    And yet... he trusted.


    He stole a sidelong look. Gu stood quietly, gaze fixed across the waiting room, expression unreadable.


    More people began to arrive.


    Xiao Jingyan studied them. Most were NPCs—stiff movements, papery skin. A few were streamers, sweating as they tried to blend in.


    And every single one of them lined up for Room 6. Only Room 2 remained empty, reserved for him and Gu alone.


    Two NPCs shuffled past. One muttered to the other, loud enough to hear:


    "Strange. Room 2 only took two patients. Everyone else has to line up for Room 6. Price keeps climbing too... what a scam."


    Xiao Jingyan''s head snapped toward Gu. The other man stood calm, unbothered, as if he had known all along.


    Not a bad person, Xiao Jingyan thought suddenly. He had covered his ticket, guided him here, shielded him at every turn.


    And... he''s kind of cute.


    The thought startled him. In this place of death and silence, his mind betrayed him with something so trivial. He shook his head sharply. Focus.


    Gu''s voice broke the thought. "How many points do you have left? Extend your time. One hour."


    Xiao Jingyan opened the interface. The options glowed:


    [ 1 hour: 300 points]


    [ 2 hours: 300 points]


    He frowned. "Why are they the same?"


    Gu''s eyes flicked toward him, his tone flat: "Choose one hour."


    No explanation.


    Xiao Jingyan hesitated, then obeyed.


    The system chimed:


    [Correct choice, neer.]


    [Reward: 200 points.]


    [Remaining balance: 500 points.]


    He stared at Gu in shock.


    Gu only smiled faintly. Behind his glasses, his eyes held secrets he did not share.


    He looked accustomed to burying his truths, offering only a gentle smile to the one beside him.


    Something warm stirred in Xiao Jingyan''s chest. And with it, unease.


    In this place, danger pressed from every side. He understood almost nothing. And yet, without realizing it, he had already handed his survival to Gu Qingchen.


    Perhaps, Xiao Jingyan thought grimly, that was the real horror.