Chapter 12: The Second Victim
Midnight, three o'clock.
Thud, thud thud!
Heavy footsteps approached outside the door, steadily drawing nearer.
Fang Zhi gripped the crowbar tightly. A plastic bag covered his face, hiding his expression, but his trembling hands betrayed his true feelings.
“This patient is different from the previous one. Due to the virus, his body has mutated, making him highly aggressive. He must be subdued before any treatment can begin.”
Bang!
The door was kicked open by a large foot.
A terrifying figure appeared before Fang Zhi. According to Qi Zhiyong, this was no mere weak wandering spirit but a formidable, unshakable evil entity beyond mortal power.
Fang Zhi trembled like a leaf.
This was the natural fear of a low-level creature in the food chain facing its predator.
His mind flashed rapidly, playing scenes from his life like a revolving lantern: his family, his love, the honors he had earned.
And that one night...
That night, he returned home as usual, pushing open the door of the modestly purchased new apartment.
His parents didn’t come out to greet him as always. Puzzled, he searched, finally noticing blood seeping from a small cabinet.
He hurriedly opened the cabinet door to find his parents’ bodies twisted and forcibly stuffed into the cramped space, the cabinet jammed shut without a single gap.
Two faces, already deformed from compression, wore eerie smiles.
“Son, you’re back. This house was such a good buy..."
After this image surfaced in Fang Zhi’s mind, his trembling ceased. Rage overtook him, and he let out a deafening roar, raising the steel crowbar to smash the evil entity’s head.
Bang!
A massive palm grabbed Fang Zhi’s head, easily pinning him to the ground. Despite his struggles, Fang Zhi couldn’t budge the creature even slightly, but he kept striking its head with the crowbar.
Under the giant hand,
Fang Zhi’s face contorted in pain, tears mingled with blood streaming down.
“I knew... I always knew it was true... but I had to believe ghosts didn’t exist, or else...”
“Or else, wouldn’t it all be my fault?”
Thunk!
Fang Zhi’s skull was crushed.
The evil entity shook its hand, slightly puzzled.
Where did this meal find such courage to charge at it?
But a meal is just a meal.
Even mustering all its courage, it only added a little more chewiness.
...
Wu Xian sat against the wall, listening intently to the sounds outside the door.
Hearing Fang Zhi’s furious roar, he shook his head.
He had thought Fang Zhi was just a blustering coward. Unexpectedly, the man had caused such a commotion before death.
Fang Zhi was dead. Now the real challenge began.
After waiting for some time, Lu Yuzhu’s phone vibrated. Wu Xian had set an alarm on this phone beforehand; without it, timing would have been difficult.
Wu Xian sat up from the ground and carefully opened the door. Thanks to grease made from pig intestines, the door opened almost silently.
The corridor was gloomy, the floor marked with still-wet mud prints. The dim yellow light flickered incessantly, creating a stifling and terrifying atmosphere. Just opening the door sent a chill deep into Wu Xian’s heart, as if all the pores on his body had opened.
Though eerie,
there was no one in the corridor—no evil presence!
“As expected!”
Wu Xian straightened his back. As early as yesterday morning, by estimating the drying time of the cement footprints, he deduced that Yu Yinghua left half an hour before dawn. Since dawn was at six, he set the alarm to 5:30.
This meant that between then and dawn, the corridor was safe and hidden!
This guess wasn’t 100% certain, but for greater gain, Wu Xian was willing to take the risk.
He first inspected all the rooms.
Fang Zhi’s door had been broken open, covered in a dozen or so palm prints—Yu Yinghua clearly bore deep resentment towards him.
Room 408 had a fresh palm print, still wet.
That was Nurse Yue Mei’s room. This timid nurse had already attracted the attention of the evil entity.
Wu Xian pondered briefly and then began his plan.
He wiped the palm print off Yue Mei’s door, smudged the still-wet cement on the floor, pressed his hand firmly onto Qi Zhiyong’s room 402 door, and then touched it up with a pen to make it nearly identical to Yu Yinghua’s palm print!
He had three reasons for this.
First, Yue Mei was a decent person, and he wanted to try to save her.
Second, he wanted to decipher the killing logic of the evil entity—whether it chose targets based on palm prints, marked doors, rooms, or even people.
Lastly, Wu Xian disliked Qi Zhiyong and wanted to cause him some trouble.
Qi Zhiyong had sent Wu Xian to scout Lu Yuzhu’s room, meaning Qi Zhiyong wanted Wu Xian to bear the risk while he gathered intelligence. Wu Xian was cursed for it but received no compensation afterward and was even treated differently.
Qi Zhiyong’s attitude convinced Wu Xian that if a sacrifice was necessary, Qi Zhiyong would not hesitate to sacrifice him.
Therefore, Wu Xian believed it was only fair to let Qi Zhiyong shoulder some risk in return.
...
After finishing this, Wu Xian did not return to his room.
Instead, he went to Fang Zhi’s room 407.
Testing the evil entity’s behavior alone wasn’t enough reason for Wu Xian to risk going out before dawn—the real motivator was profit!
This was the best time to monopolize Fang Zhi’s room’s benefits!
Upon entering room 407, Wu Xian saw Fang Zhi’s shattered corpse. His hands still clutched the crowbar tightly, clearly fighting until his last moment.
“Died decisively. Not bad. Quite lucky.”
If death was inevitable, Wu Xian preferred to die like Fang Zhi—not tormented like Lu Yuzhu.
Wu Xian quickly searched the room.
While searching, he found a photo of Fang Zhi’s family of three. The faces of the father and mother were worn and blurred from frequent touching.
Wu Xian was indifferent to Fang Zhi’s background and casually tossed the photo aside, soon finishing a thorough search.
This time, he found no divine statue, but beneath the mattress were three fragrant brown incense sticks. Upon taking them, a new item appeared in the props page:
Aged Agarwood Incense: Calms the mind, reduces swelling and bruising. Sold in sets of three, can be used for offerings.
“Tch…”
Wu Xian sneered in disappointment, having hoped to use the three sticks three times.
“Better get some rest, recharge, then have some fun with Qi Zhiyong later.”
...
Qi Zhiyong was furious.
His face shifted with stormy emotions, anger barely contained, like a volcano about to erupt.
“Why me? I was careful enough. Wasn’t I marked because that woman found me? Did I slip up somewhere?”
When Wu Xian finally went out, rubbing his sleepy eyes, he saw Qi Zhiyong’s sour face and burst out laughing.
“Pfft…”
Qi Zhiyong spun around, glaring, “What are you laughing at?”
Wu Xian smirked mockingly, shrugging, “I just remembered something funny.”
Qi Zhiyong cursed angrily, then turned away, refusing to look at Wu Xian any longer. He had neither the mood nor time to bicker.
Wu Xian’s mockery was deliberate.
After being treated so by Qi Zhiyong, Wu Xian felt that if he wasn’t amused by Qi Zhiyong’s misfortune, he would seem too cunning—and might even be suspected of causing the trouble.