This time, instead of heading to the study, we walked in the opposite direction. At the far end of the corridor stood an old-fashioned elevator. Installing an elevator in a villa was quite rare—it felt like one of those pull-door relics only seen in early European and American films.

Hou Dayong stepped forward and boarded, Wang Jue and I following closely behind. The sliding door closed automatically the moment we were inside. Without pressing any buttons, the elevator began its descent. I asked Hou Dayong how many floors were below ground. He gave a cool smile and said mysteriously, "There are always eighteen floors below ground." Well, I shouldn't have asked.

Throughout the descent, the exterior visible through the elevator shafts remained pitch black—no sign of doors, no indication of floors, not even a hint of light. It truly felt like descending into the eighteen levels of hell.

Ding-dong… Finally, it stopped, and the door slid open to reveal a deep, somber corridor stretching before us. Another corridor. Most of our journey so far had been spent navigating these hallways. I really didn't want to walk any further; who knew what strange things awaited us if we did.

As if sensing my apprehension, Hou Dayong didn't step out of the elevator. He turned back and said, "We need to reach the room where the Blood Kin Compass is kept. You must drip your blood onto it; only then will the compass reveal your relative's location. This is currently the only way to find your sister. However, the path ahead is very dangerous. Even I cannot guarantee that I will pass through unscathed."

He certainly knew how to twist the knife. If I didn't take this path, I wouldn't find my elder sister, and without finding her, there was no question of rescuing her. In that scenario, even if the path led through mountains of swords and seas of fire, I would plunge in without hesitation.

Fine. I stepped forward, ready to leap into the "sea of fire." Hou Dayong pulled me back from behind, signaling the danger ahead and gesturing for me to follow him. Naturally, I offered him the courtesy of going first, waving my hand to let him proceed.

He walked to the elevator threshold, rolled up his sleeves and trouser legs, lifted one leg, and lightly set his foot on the corridor floor. As quick as the thought, the dim corridor lights flashed three times, then abruptly extinguished, plunging the path ahead into absolute darkness. Wang Jue, following right behind Hou Dayong, leaned out. Seeing the darkness, he reached into his pocket for his lighter, preparing to spark a flame for illumination.

Fsh-fsh. After he’d flicked the striker twice, Hou Dayong snatched it away and tossed it back into the elevator. I was startled, and Wang Jue showed a flash of irritation. Hou Dayong whispered urgently, "No open flames!"

Wang Jue turned, retrieved the lighter, wiped it clean, and pocketed it, resuming his precise steps behind Hou Dayong.

Initially, it was no different from any ordinary corridor. After walking about thirty paces, the ground felt uneven beneath our feet, sinking slightly as if stepping on something spongy. After another short stretch, it wasn't just soft; it felt distinctly sticky. I lifted my heel, intending to feel what it was, but Hou Dayong slapped my hand away. "Don't touch it!"

Stepping one pace closer, a foul stench hit us head-on. It was a smell unprecedentedly noxious. I quickly covered my mouth, gagging uncontrollably. Wang Jue, however, remained remarkably composed, showing no reaction. I asked, puzzled, "You didn't smell that?"

He replied calmly, "I did. It's the smell of rot!"

The moment the word 'rot' left his mouth, I began vomiting violently, emptying my guts. As a doctor, Wang Jue was clearly more accustomed to such sickening things.

I threw up until I felt my entire insides would spill out, gasping for air, my mind foggy. Leaning against the wall for support, I suddenly realized the wall surface was covered in a thick, slimy substance, sticking all over my sleeves and back.