The preceding situation made Kuang Feifan and He Shaoqing's body hair stand on end, leaving them frozen in shock; Kuang Feifan's hand had indeed rested upon another person's hand—the hand of someone already dead.

"Gray Jacket?" He Shaoqing blurted out.

Kuang Feifan hastily drew back his hand; just a moment ago, it had been resting on a hand belonging to the Gray Jacket, which was leaning against the wall.

Up in the attic, the two of them had broken the Gray Jacket's neck between them; even if he hadn't been dead before, that blow should have ensured he wouldn't die any further. It was just that he had mysteriously vanished from the attic afterward, and they hadn't had time to investigate his whereabouts, never expecting to see him standing in the corridor.

Illuminated by the phone's light, they saw the Gray Jacket's current appearance was utterly different from when he first appeared in the attic. He stood leaning against the wall, but his posture wasn't rigid; instead, he was stooped, his chest drawn in. Because his neck had been snapped by them, his head hung down onto his chest, yet his face was twisted unnervingly to the side, staring at them.

Apart from the gray jacket he wore, the entire person had lost all semblance of a living being. The skin on his face and hands looked severely dehydrated, shriveled beyond recognition. Especially his face, where the wrinkled skin clung tightly to the contours, resembling a skull encased in skin. His complexion had turned a grayish-blue, and although his eyes remained open, the eyeballs had entirely become a dull, ashen white, lacking the vital luster a living person possesses, making him look even more hideous and terrifying.

A faint stench of decay permeated the air, seemingly emanating from the Gray Jacket. Both men involuntarily wrinkled their noses, but here and now, it wasn't the time to mind the filth. Seeing that the Gray Jacket appeared to make no further move, Kuang Feifan glanced over at He Shaoqing. The Gray Jacket was positioned against the wall, perfectly blocking their path forward; they could only move around him.

They exchanged only a look and resolved to rush past him as quickly as possible. They rapidly retreated a few steps, and Kuang Feifan straightened his waist, his figure flashing past the Gray Jacket with incredible speed.

As he moved, the Gray Jacket instantly reacted. Just as Kuang Feifan was about to brush past him, the Gray Jacket swung his arm down, aiming directly for Kuang Feifan's head.

Kuang Feifan, utterly focused on the Gray Jacket and maintaining extreme vigilance against his every move, saw the arm swing toward his upper body and swiftly leaned back, executing an "Iron Bridge," simultaneously dropping to his knees and using the momentum of his lunge to slide forward across the floor on his knees, narrowly dodging the Gray Jacket's strike.

At the same time, He Shaoqing surged forward, rushing past the Gray Jacket's legs in a sprawling slide tackle maneuver.

By pure chance, their exaggerated reactions seemed to genuinely catch the Gray Jacket off guard; he offered no response, and both men successfully evaded him. And just as unexpectedly for Kuang Feifan, as he pushed himself up from the floor, he dimly saw the staircase leading to the first floor not far ahead.

He Shaoqing had just slid up alongside him. Standing up, he also spotted the staircase and couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "Look, the stairs! Hurry!" Saying this, he tugged at Kuang Feifan and ran toward the stairwell.

"Hey, don't you think it's weird? We walked along the wall, didn't pass a single door, so how did we end up at the stairs?" Kuang Feifan asked as they ran.

"Damn it, why worry about that now? Getting downstairs is what matters," He Shaoqing fully embraced the principle of dealing with problems as they arose: "We'll take it one step at a time; thinking too much is useless."

They reached the stairwell unimpeded, and seeing the familiar stairs brought an indescribable wave of joy, but when their eyes clearly took in the scene on the landing, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over their heads. It didn't just extinguish the flame of excitement; a chill instantly shot from their heads to their feet, forcing them to stop dead in their tracks.

At the turn of the stairs, they could clearly see the small, blackened mummified corpse squatting on the ground, lifting its skull-like little head to gaze up at the second-floor landing. Furthermore, behind it, the big-headed, wrinkled infant squinted, staring coldly at the two figures at the top of the stairs. Its small hands rested on the mummy's shoulders. The lower half of its body was obscured, looking as if the mummy was carrying it, or perhaps its upper half was emerging from the mummy's body, like a pair of conjoined twins.

Four pairs of eyes locked in a wide-eyed stare. They could even see the mummy’s lower jaw opening and closing, producing a "clack... clack..." sound of teeth hitting together, much like a starving person spotting a feast right before them, just short of drooling. The expression on the big-headed infant’s face seemed to synchronize with the mummy’s, regarding them as a pair of lambs awaiting slaughter.

Before any action could be taken there, a sound reached their ears—the scraping of an object across the carpeted floor, a sound that seemed to be gradually approaching them. Kuang Feifan glanced in the direction of the sound with his peripheral vision, and his expression changed. He Shaoqing also heard it, but with his back to the corridor, focused on the little mummy on the stairs, he could only sense Kuang Feifan’s alarm and whispered, "What is it?"

"Gray Jacket is coming," Kuang Feifan ground out from between his teeth.

Down the corridor, the Gray Jacket had turned around and was shuffling its legs toward the stairwell in an unnatural way. For some reason, his legs weren't lifting to step; both feet were merely dragging slowly back and forth on the floor, as if the legs of a stroke victim lacked strength, shuffling unevenly toward them. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and his head swayed gently with the slow movement of his body, looking as if it might drop from his neck at any moment.

He Shaoqing raised an eyebrow and forced a smile that looked worse than crying, his lips unmoving as he gritted his back teeth: "Resident Evil?"

Kuang Feifan shot him a sidelong glance: "Not funny at all."

He Shaoqing closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh: "We charge down. I’ll block that little guy, you get out."

Kuang Feifan jolted: "Nonsense! I'm leaving you to face that monster alone?"

He Shaoqing gave a wry smile: "My right arm is numb. It feels like... I've lost feeling in it."

"What? Which one?" Kuang Feifan couldn't help but look toward He Shaoqing upon hearing this.

He Shaoqing frowned: "Don't look at me. Watch the little one."

Unfortunately, before he could finish speaking, the merged body of the little mummy and the monster lurched forward with ghostly speed, pouncing toward the two figures at the top of the stairs. The big-headed infant even let out a "jee-jee" sound of laughter.

He Shaoqing’s expression hardened, and he suddenly roared, "Go, quickly!" With the shout, he leaped up, extending one hand toward the lunging mummy. Kuang Feifan noticed then that He Shaoqing’s right arm was dangling uselessly at his side, apparently unable to be raised. That right arm was the one the infant had bitten earlier.

"Damn it, this is bad," Kuang Feifan said, his face losing color in shock. Though he didn't know the exact state of He Shaoqing's arm, it looked severely compromised. He realized that for He Shaoqing to try and block the mummy so he could escape meant He Shaoqing was contemplating self-sacrifice.

What kind of person was Kuang Feifan? Would he abandon his brother to run at a time like this?

"You've got to be kidding," Kuang Feifan didn't hesitate but lunged forward as well, though he was a fraction of a second too late. He Shaoqing had already collided with the little mummy. However, He Shaoqing hadn't entirely given up on survival; at the instant he met the mummy, he extended his functional arm, seizing the moment to clamp his hand firmly over the mummy's head, using the downward force of his momentum to press the creature down with all his strength.

He Shaoqing's intention was simple: use his body to hold back the mummy, even if only for a moment, so Kuang Feifan could rush downstairs.

But Kuang Feifan did not follow the plan to rush downstairs. Just as He Shaoqing slammed the mummy's face against the landing at the stairwell turn, Kuang Feifan reached his side. As he dove down, he had already pulled out the "Mani Stone" pendant he had used countless times from his pocket, grabbed He Shaoqing's arm, and yanked him away forcefully.

He Shaoqing felt a surge of churning energy in his chest, his entire body felt like it had fallen apart, and a buzzing filled his head. Faintly, he heard an ethereal voice: "Let go."

Kuang Feifan pulled He Shaoqing up and saw his hand still gripping the mummy's face tightly; the mummy's head had become slightly distorted from the force of the impact. Although Kuang Feifan yelled, "Let go," He Shaoqing didn't react. Helplessly, Kuang Feifan had to tap the pulse point on He Shaoqing's wrist with his finger—not too hard, but enough to make a point.

The grip involuntarily loosened. At this moment, the little mummy hadn't recovered or made any move, but the big-headed infant behind it, now squashed and distorted from the impact on the floor, suddenly opened its mouth wide and lunged toward Kuang Feifan, biting. The infant's mouth gaped like a venomous snake about to strike, a black, twisted void, seeming eager to swallow Kuang Feifan whole in one gulp.

Kuang Feifan was already prepared. Facing the engulfing maw and the elongated, distorted face of the infant, he flicked his wrist and jammed the pendant he held into the infant’s mouth, shouting, "Go to hell, Lin Bing…"

As the word "Lin Bing" left his lips and the pendant entered the infant's mouth, a brilliant ball of yellow light erupted, centered on the pendant, instantly shooting countless beams of light through the infant’s skin. The infant instantly contorted into an expression of excruciating pain, its small hands leaving the mummy’s shoulders and flailing uselessly in the air. However, perhaps due to the pendant's influence, although the infant looked agonizingly distressed, it made absolutely no sound.

Kuang Feifan felt a chill down his spine and hurriedly dragged He Shaoqing up from the floor. By this time, He Shaoqing’s lips had turned a bluish-black, and his face was as white as paper, completely devoid of color. He appeared to be barely conscious, on the verge of fainting at any moment. His steps were unsteady, and all strength had left his body.

Kuang Feifan grit his teeth, bent down, hoisted He Shaoqing onto his back, and ran desperately toward the first floor.

"Put me down, you run!" He Shaoqing said, his voice exceptionally weak.

"Shut up," Kuang Feifan spat out those two words, suppressing the urgency burning in his heart.