Chapter Fourteen: The Foggy Floor

The black mist churned through the hallway like a living creature, swallowing up the footsteps of Mu Chen and Chen Jiahe completely. The corridor on the 27th floor was eerily silent, as if it were a deserted graveyard.

“Are we really going in?” Chen Jiahe’s voice trembled as she clutched tightly at the hem of Mu Chen’s shirt. “It feels even worse in here than outside…”

“Shh.” Mu Chen raised a hand to stop her from speaking further and pointed toward the door of Room 2001 not far ahead.

They stopped in front of the door. Mu Chen knocked three times—short, sharp, and firm.

The door swung open almost immediately. A strikingly beautiful face appeared in the crack, surprise flickering in the woman’s eyes.

“You actually came!” She grabbed Mu Chen’s wrist with surprising strength. “Come inside quickly, it’s too dangerous out there!”

Chen Jiahe squeezed inside after them, but the woman’s gaze noticeably chilled as she looked at her.

“And who is this…”

“She’s my sister,” Mu Chen said casually, scanning the living room. “Is there anyone else at home?”

“No, no, just me.” Zhang Qing smiled sweetly, her fingers brushing lightly over Mu Chen’s hand. “My husband went out to find supplies and hasn’t returned yet.”

Mu Chen nodded, his eyes quickly sweeping the room. The furniture was ordinary, nothing special. But in the corner was a fresh scratch on the wall, as if something heavy had been dragged across.

“Let’s get down to business,” Mu Chen said, stepping toward the sofa and deliberately putting some distance between them. “What do you need? What can I provide?”

Zhang Qing licked her lips and forced a seductive smile. “I need everything—water, food, a sense of security… If you can satisfy me, I can satisfy you.”

Chen Jiahe blushed as she listened, her fingers twisting the corner of her dress nervously.

“First, let me see your conditions.” Mu Chen feigned being charmed as he stood. “Your bedroom looked nice in the photo. Can you show me?”

“Of course, follow me~”

The three of them headed toward the bedroom, Zhang Qing deliberately leading with a sway of her hips. Mu Chen hung back a few steps and exchanged a glance with Chen Jiahe, his fingers lightly resting on the dagger at his waist.

Just as they neared the bedroom door, a dull thud came from inside, like something heavy hitting the floor.

Zhang Qing’s steps faltered, her expression instantly changing.

“Husband? You’re back?” Her voice rose sharply, sounding like a signal.

Before Mu Chen could react, the bedroom door was suddenly flung open. A man charged out, brandishing a knife!

“Catch them! Don’t let them escape!” Zhang Qing screamed, lunging at Chen Jiahe. “You filthy bitch, how dare you come to steal our supplies!”

Wu Han swung his knife directly at Mu Chen’s face, his attack vicious but lacking technique. Mu Chen’s expression did not change; he sidestepped lightly and whipped out his right leg, striking Wu Han squarely in the abdomen like a whip.

“Thud!”

Wu Han flew backward like a rag doll, slamming into the wall. The knife slipped from his hand, and he passed out instantly.

Nearby, Zhang Qing was fiercely choking Chen Jiahe as they struggled on the floor. Mu Chen rushed over in three quick steps, grabbed Zhang Qing by the collar, and threw her aside.

“How… how are you so strong?” Zhang Qing pressed against the corner, staring at the two with terror. “Who exactly are you?!”

“I want to see that plant,” Mu Chen said without wasting words and headed straight for the bedroom.

The bedroom was clean and tidy, except the windowsill was empty.

“Where’s the pot?” Mu Chen turned, his eyes cold.

“What pot? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Zhang Qing curled up on the floor, clutching her head and feigning helplessness.

Mu Chen yanked her up with such force her face twisted in pain. “The plant in your photo—the one with the black fruit. Where is it?”

“I… I threw it away! That thing looked strange, I was afraid it was poisonous!”

Mu Chen’s grip tightened, making it hard for her to breathe. “Last time I ask, where is it?”

“In the bathroom!” Zhang Qing finally broke down. “Under the washbasin! I didn’t throw it away!”

Mu Chen shoved her toward Chen Jiahe. “Watch her.”

The bathroom door was ajar. Mu Chen pushed it open gently and was hit by a damp, rotten smell. He frowned and scanned the cramped space, quickly locating the cabinet beneath the washbasin.

He opened the cabinet door to find a small shrub inside. From the short plant hung several black fruits, their surfaces etched with fine patterns and emitting a strange allure.

Mu Chen carefully plucked one and rinsed it under the faucet. Water flowed over its surface, leaving an eerie sheen.

The cleaned fruit shimmered with a faint black glow under the light, releasing an indescribable scent—both the sweetest honey and the most putrid corpse.

Holding the fruit before his eyes, Mu Chen’s heart pounded wildly. A supernatural power! The strength about to be within his grasp made his blood boil. If he ate it and endured the baptism of the black mist and extreme mental stimulation once more, he could gain abilities beyond ordinary humans.

He opened his mouth, the fruit about to touch his lips—

A sudden thought flashed through his mind: What if this was Pan Han’s trick?

The fruit paused at his lips. Was Pan Han’s desperate demeanor truly just about survival? Or was there another agenda? What if the fruit was poisonous, or worse, could turn someone into one of those monsters?

Mu Chen stared intently at the black fruit in his hand, his brows furrowed.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and made his decision.

“Jiahe!” He strode out of the bathroom, raising the fruit. “I’ll eat it first. If I’m fine, then you can try.”

Chen Jiahe looked at him in surprise. “You’re really going to eat it? Isn’t it dangerous?”

“If you don’t try, you’ll never know.” Mu Chen took a deep breath and swallowed the fruit.

The instant it passed his lips, an indescribable bitterness exploded, a bile-like taste rushing to the back of his tongue.

Mu Chen’s face turned deathly pale.

“Pan Han, that bastard!” he roared.

The terrified look on Zhang Qing’s face vanished, replaced by a twisted, savage laugh.

“Hahaha! Fool! You really thought a magic fruit like that would just fall from the sky?!”

Wu Han struggled up from the floor, clutching his stomach, a sinister grin spreading across his mouth.

“That thing is just a rotten fruit we dug out of the trash! It was meant to give arrogant fools like you a ‘surprise’!”

In the living room, Mu Chen clawed wildly at his hair, veins bulging and throbbing on his temples.

The world spun wildly.

A violent dizziness seized him.

The scene before his eyes twisted uncontrollably; the walls writhed like living creatures, crimson liquid oozed from the ceiling and dripped down.

Even the air he breathed thickened into a black, viscous gel.

“Mu Chen!” Chen Jiahe cried out, rushing over to steady his staggering form. “What’s wrong?”

“Hallucinations… toxins causing hallucinations…” Mu Chen gritted out through clenched teeth, countless needles stabbing at his brain in unbearable pain.

“Damn it…”

Zhang Qing sneered and pulled a gleaming fruit knife from her bag, the sharp tip aimed menacingly at the back of Chen Jiahe’s neck.

“You little bitch, now it’s your turn! Taste true despair!”

Wu Han also picked up the kitchen knife he had dropped earlier, weighing it in his hand with a grim smile.