The banquet hall stretched into darkness. A long table ran down its center, piled with food—roasted meats, golden breads, glistening fruits. But the food was wrong. A roasted chicken flapped its wings. Bread sweated black liquid. Fruits whispered in low, guttural tones. The air smelled of cooking fat and something rotten underneath.
"Don't eat anything," Shen said.
Jiang's hand went to her dagger. Lin drew her short sword. Qiang stepped in front of Fang, his right arm raised. Fang's hands trembled, but she held a kitchen knife steady.
At the far end of the table, the shadows rose.
The Glutton Chef stood ten feet tall. Its body was stitched together from pork, turkey, sausage, and dough—a grotesque patchwork of meat and bread. Multiple arms sprouted from its torso, each holding a different tool: a cleaver, a spatula, a rolling pin, a long spoon. Its head was a massive stomach, pulsing and wet, with a split mouth dripping acid onto the floor.
Shen's mark pulsed. A translucent panel flickered in his vision—only he could see it.
```
[Glutton Chef · Door Guardian]
Affinity: Corrupted · Hunger
HP: 3500 / 3500
Weaknesses:
- Stomach Core (hidden inside, requires abdominal breach)
- Pure Ingredients (temporarily neutralizes Hunger Aura)
- Arm Joints (physical damage x1.5)
- Stomach Wall (vulnerable to vibration)
Abilities:
- Corrupted Dish (summons minions)
- Hunger Aura (constant life/energy drain)
- Devour (swallows target, continuous acid damage)
- Core Explosion (massive AOE when near death)
```
"Thirty-five hundred HP," Shen said quietly. "Weakness is the Stomach Core—inside its body. The joints take extra damage. And the stomach wall is weak against vibration."
Lin gripped her sword. "Then we cut it open."
The Glutton Chef's mouth opened. A sound came out—not words, but a deep, hungry rumble.
"Spread out," Shen said. "Don't let it focus on one of us."
The Glutton Chef swung its cleaver. The blade sliced through the table, sending plates and food flying. Roasted chickens took flight, pecking and scratching. Bread loaves exploded into clouds of black spores. Fruits shot streams of acid.
Lin cut down two chickens with quick slashes. Qiang batted a bread loaf aside with his right arm—the spores burned his skin, but he ignored the pain. Fang used her trembling hands to throw knives with surprising accuracy, pinning fruits to the wall.
Jiang stayed back, healing cuts and burning spores away with her mark's light.
Shen studied the Glutton Chef. A new panel appeared: Arm Joints · Defense Low · Physical Damage x1.5.
"The joints," he said. "Hit them there. One and a half times damage."
He marked the first joint with his mark's light—a faint glow only his team could see. Lin ran along the table, leaped, and brought her sword down. The cleaver arm fell with a wet thud. The Glutton Chef roared—a sound like grinding bones.
The second arm came at Qiang. He caught the spatula with his bare right hand and held on. "Now!"
Lin stabbed the joint. The arm went limp.
The third arm swung its rolling pin at Fang. She ducked, but the wind knocked her back. Shen activated his mark. Heat flooded his veins. He jumped, grabbed the rolling pin, and twisted. The arm snapped at the joint.
Three arms down. The Glutton Chef retreated, clutching its wounds. Its stomach head opened wide and vomited a cloud of yellow gas.
"Hold your breath!" Jiang shouted.
Too late. The gas spread across the hall. Shen felt his strength draining. His mark dimmed. The others stumbled, their movements slowing.
"Hunger aura," Jiang said. "It's eating our energy."
Shen's mark pulsed again. A new panel: Hunger Aura Source · Stomach Core · Requires Pure Ingredients to neutralize.
"The core is the source," he said. "We need pure ingredients to stop the aura."
Shen reached into his pocket and pulled out the Five-Flavor Stone. The gray stone with five veins glowed faintly, then pulsed. It grew hot in his hand. A final panel appeared before it cracked: Hidden Alcove · Behind the fallen tapestry · Contains Pure Ingredients.
"There," Shen said, pointing.
The stone shattered. The pieces crumbled to dust.
He ran to the alcove, fighting through the yellow gas. Inside: a slab of fresh beef, a jar of clean water, and a bundle of green herbs.
"Fang! Can you make something?"
Fang took the ingredients. Her hands trembled worse than ever, but she nodded. "I'll try."
She worked quickly. No stove, no fire—but Jiang used her mark to heat a metal plate. Lin cut the beef into thin slices. Qiang crushed the herbs with his fist. Fang assembled a simple dish: raw beef dressed with herbs and a splash of clean water. It looked crude, but it smelled like nothing else in the hall—fresh, clean, alive.
She held it up. The Glutton Chef's stomach mouth opened wide, drawn by the scent.
"Feed it," Shen said.
Fang threw the dish into the mouth. The Glutton Chef swallowed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then its stomach convulsed. The yellow gas dissipated. The hunger aura vanished. The monster stumbled, its body cracking open along the seams of its patchwork flesh.
Revealed inside: a pulsing, heart-shaped core—the Stomach Core.
The Glutton Chef howled. It lashed out with its remaining arm and grabbed Fang. Before anyone could react, it shoved her into its torn stomach.
"Fang!" Qiang shouted.
Inside the stomach, Fang screamed. Acid burned her clothes, her skin. But her apron—the Chef's Apron—glowed faintly, buying her seconds. She saw the Core, pulsing with dark light. She pressed her trembling hands against it.
Outside, the Glutton Chef's wounds began to heal. The stomach sealed shut.
"She's inside," Jiang said. "We have to break it open."
Shen's mark flared. He saw the Stomach Core through the monster's flesh—and Fang's hands pressed against it. A panel appeared: Stomach Core · Vulnerable to Vibration · Tremor Damage x2.
"The core is weak against vibration," Shen said. "Fang's ability—it's perfect. But we need to hit it from both sides."
He focused his mark and sent a pulse of perception to Lin. "I'll show you where. You'll see the core."
Lin's vision blurred, then cleared. She saw the core glowing inside the monster—and Fang's small shape beside it.
"I see her," Lin said.
"Qiang, draw its attention," Shen said. "Jiang, keep us alive. Lin—stab where I marked. Fang will hit from inside."
Qiang ran at the monster, swinging his right fist. He punched the stomach. The Glutton Chef turned and swatted him aside. He crashed into a pillar, coughing blood.
Jiang ran to him, her mark glowing. She pressed her hands to his chest. The bleeding slowed, but he stayed down, breathing hard.
Lin drove her blade into the monster's abdomen. The sword pierced the skin but stopped at the stomach wall. She pushed harder, channeling her mark's energy into the tip. The blade sank deeper.
Inside the stomach, Fang heard Shen's voice through the resonance. "Now, Fang! Hit it!"
She gathered every bit of strength, every ounce of will. Her hands stopped trembling. She slammed them against the Core and released all her remaining mark energy in one final pulse—a violent vibration that cracked the Core from within.
At the same moment, Lin's blade broke through the stomach wall. The sword met Fang's hands from the inside.
The Core exploded.
The Glutton Chef screamed—a sound that shook the hall—and collapsed. Its body dissolved into a pile of rotten food, black ooze, and bones.
Fang was gone.
The explosion had taken her. Where she had stood inside the monster, there was only white light fading into nothing. The door had absorbed her.
Qiang pushed himself up. "No." He stared at the empty space. "No!"
Jiang put a hand on his shoulder. She didn't speak.
Lin lowered her sword. Her face was pale.
Shen stood still. He had known losses before. But this one—this one was different. Fang had been scared. Her hands had never stopped shaking. And yet she had walked into the monster's stomach and given everything.
"She saved us," Shen said quietly. "We finish the door. For her."
A red warning flashed in Shen's vision: Core Explosion in 30 seconds.
"Move!" he shouted.
They ran. The Glutton Chef's remains detonated behind them—a wave of heat and acid that scorched the walls. They dove behind an overturned table. The blast passed over them.
Silence.
A chime sounded in their minds. Cold. Mechanical.
Second Door — Complete.
Survivors: Four (Shen, Jiang, Lin, Qiang).
Rating: Standard.
Rewards: Each survivor receives ten bone fragments.
Special Reward: Glutton's Bezoar — Absorbs one fatal blow or converts into energy.
Fragments settled into their bodies. Shen caught the bezoar—a hard, dark stone the size of his thumb—and tucked it away.
Behind the pile of rotten food, a door became visible. It was made of dark wood, carved with a heart-shaped keyhole.
"The Heart Key," Jiang said.
Shen pulled out the copper key. It fit perfectly. He turned it.
The door swung open. Inside was a small chamber—no bigger than a closet. On a stone pedestal lay two items.
The first was a mask. White porcelain, expressionless, with two empty eye holes. On its forehead was carved a single word: Audience.
The second was a letter. Old paper, yellowed, sealed with red wax. No stamp. Just a single character: Shen.
Shen broke the seal. He read the letter silently. His face did not change, but Jiang saw his hand tighten around the paper.
"What does it say?" Lin asked.
Shen folded the letter. "My mother is trapped in the Third Door. She's been watching from the audience for years."
"Then we go get her," Qiang said. His voice was rough, but steady.
Before anyone could move, the air in the center of the room began to twist. A soft white light coalesced into a human shape—no, not human. A phantom. It wore a tattered robe. Its face was blurred, but its eyes burned bright like stars.
"Congratulations on passing the Second Door," the phantom said. Its voice was flat, without emotion. "I am the Keeper of the Door Market. Fragments are the door's gift. They can buy you anything—strength, wealth, memory, even the future."
It waved a hand. Dozens of glowing orbs appeared in the air, each holding an item: weapons, armor, potions, books, mechanical parts, even gold bars and property deeds.
"Each of you may purchase two items. Rare items are limited to one per team. You have fifty fragments in total."
The four stared at the orbs.
Qiang stepped forward. "I need that." He pointed at a glowing orb containing a mechanical arm—Spirit Iron Prosthetic Arm. Price: 20 fragments.
Lin's eyes locked onto a translucent short sword—Shadow Sting. Price: 18 fragments.
Jiang opened a book floating nearby—Basic Alchemy Notes. Price: 10 fragments. Next to it was Business Management Guide. Price: 8 fragments.
Shen's gaze was fixed on a single yellowed page inside an orb—Mother's Diary Fragment. Price: 30 fragments.
"We don't have enough," Jiang said. "Thirty for the diary, twenty for the arm. That's fifty. Nothing else."
"I'll give up the arm," Qiang said through clenched teeth. "Buy the diary."
Shen shook his head. "No. The arm is yours. The diary… I can find other clues."
"Your mother is in there," Qiang said. "You need to know where."
Lin set down the Shadow Sting. "I won't buy the sword either. Diary and arm. The rest for potions."
Jiang nodded. "I can give up my share too."
The phantom waited.
Finally, Shen made the call. "Diary and the prosthetic arm. And with the remaining fragments… two healing potions and one Basic Alchemy Notes."
The phantom nodded. The orbs descended. Items flew into their hands.
Shen took the diary fragment. Only one line was legible: "Third Door, Audience Seats, Third Row, Seventh from the left. Mother." His hand trembled slightly.
Qiang cradled the mechanical arm against his chest. A dull ache pulsed from his left shoulder stump.
Jiang opened the alchemy notes. The first page showed a glowing herb.
"Transaction complete," the phantom said. "May you survive the next door." It dissolved into light.
A portal opened at the far end of the chamber—swirling white light leading back to the real world.
Shen looked at the mask. He picked it up. It was cold, smooth, heavy.
"Let's go home," he said.
He stepped into the portal. Jiang followed. Lin followed.
Qiang lingered for a moment. He looked at the spot where Fang had disappeared. Then he touched his dead left arm, made a fist with his right hand, and walked into the light.
The portal closed behind them.
The banquet hall fell silent. Only the smell of rotten food remained.