Zhao Hongcheng could hardly believe his eyes. In the video footage, the small car appeared to move without its wheels turning; instead, it looked as if it were gliding. And the car, which had looked brand new moments before, revealed countless scratch marks across its entire body upon magnification. More alarmingly, the vehicle looked as though it were crudely assembled from dented scrap metal—the longer he stared, the more certain he became that it was on the verge of falling apart.

The bizarre sight drew an expression of sheer terror onto Zhao Hongcheng’s face, yet some inexplicable compulsion kept his gaze locked on the screen. Despite his instinct telling him to look away, his eyes frantically scanned the footage back and forth.

Just as the car was about to exit the camera’s view, Zhao Hongcheng saw a face suddenly appear in the passenger-side window. It resembled a human face, but it was too blurry to make out any distinct features.

Zhao Hongcheng swallowed hard, fighting to steady himself. His hands trembled as he adjusted the playback speed of the surveillance recording, desperate to get a clearer look at the face. Unfortunately, the software’s pixel limitations rendered his efforts fruitless; he couldn't discern any features no matter how long he tried.

When the small car finally disappeared from the gas station’s view, Zhao Hongcheng noticed a slick patch of gasoline on the ground where the vehicle had been parked—meaning the car had either not taken any fuel or hadn't been filled at all.

The footage from the other cameras offered no further useful clues. Zhao Hongcheng sat stunned for a long moment before suddenly remembering the cash register. He scrambled up and hurried out of the back room.

However, as he stepped back out into the main area, looking at the register on the counter, a sudden, inexplicable dread washed over Zhao Hongcheng, chilling him to the bone. Despite the bright lighting, the entire room suddenly felt eerily desolate and spine-tinglingly grim.

Mustering his courage, he finally shuffled over to the cash register. He opened the drawer where the money was kept and peered inside. Finally, he understood the expression Luo Jingjing had worn when she looked in there.

In the compartment of the drawer designated for large bills, a sheet of Ming Cha (hell money) lay conspicuously on top. Zhao Hongcheng was familiar with this item, but it was the first time he had ever seen it inside a working cash register.

Under normal circumstances, he would have dismissed it as a prank, a crude joke. But now, after witnessing the surveillance footage, he felt compelled to consider a far more unsettling possibility.

Instinctively, Zhao Hongcheng spun around, glancing wildly around the room. The undeniable sensation of someone else being present rose unbidden from the depths of his heart.

At that very moment, without any warning, every light in the building abruptly snapped off, plunging the station into total darkness.

“Ah…”

Zhao Hongcheng’s mind finally buckled under the sudden pressure, and he cried out involuntarily.

Almost as soon as his scream faded, a rapid slap-slap-slap sound echoed, nearly making Zhao Hongcheng shriek again. He immediately realized someone was aggressively banging on the small shop’s front door from the outside.

Although the interior lights were out, the floodlights outside the gas station and the streetlights were still blazing, allowing a clear view of the door through its glass panels.

Zhao Hongcheng’s gaze fixed on the door. Due to his angle, he could only see a silhouette pounding on the glass from one side, unable to clearly identify the person.

Could it be Luo Jingjing? He considered the possibility, recalling that he had wondered why she might have left—the only logical conclusion being that she had discovered the Ming Cha among the received cash and gone out to search for that car.

That was, provided that all this had been orchestrated by human hands and not some inexplicable phenomenon.

Perhaps this was truly just an elaborate, human-driven prank?

Zhao Hongcheng tried to reassure himself, taking a few steps toward the door, attempting to make out who was striking it.

Suddenly, the silhouette flickered and seemed to vanish. As he frowned in confusion, there was a sharp thud—an entire upper body slammed against the door's glass.

Through the glass, illuminated by the exterior lights, Zhao Hongcheng saw clearly the figure pressed against the door: a woman, her face contorted into a mask of horror. Her pale, ashen skin showed blood seeping from her eyes, nose, and mouth. From her gaping maw, thick, crimson blood was spilling over her lips. Her wide, vacant eyes instantly confirmed for Zhao Hongcheng that the person banging on the door was definitively not alive.

“Ah…”

Zhao Hongcheng shrieked in terror, spun around, and bolted toward the back room. He nearly stumbled as he burst inside, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning against it, gasping in ragged breaths. What he had just witnessed was profoundly shocking; the image of that face kept flashing before his eyes, impossible to erase.

Before he could recover, a wave of icy, chilling air swept past him. Immediately following this, he watched in horror as a shadowy figure materialized not far in front of him.

This final shock overloaded Zhao Hongcheng’s already shattered nerves. His legs gave out, and he collapsed sideways. Since the back room was small, his fall sent his head smashing against the adjacent wall. Then, everything went black—whether from the impact or his body’s perfect defense mechanism, Zhao Hongcheng blissfully passed out.

He remained unconscious until dawn, when the morning shift employee arrived and found him lying unresponsive in the back room. Naturally, he was rushed to the hospital for treatment, but what transpired at the gas station after his collapse was beyond his knowledge.

Zhao Hongcheng finally finished relating everything he knew. Kuang Feifan and Feng Tian left the hospital room first, while Wang Hai called a nurse to check on Zhao Hongcheng’s physical condition.

In the corridor, Feng Tian asked Kuang Feifan, “Since he saw everything on the surveillance, shouldn’t the police be alerted to the strange occurrences here?”

Kuang Feifan pondered this. “Possibly. But even if they were aware, they likely wouldn't seek you out.”

Feng Tian stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So, you're saying Luo Jingjing saw the Ghost Car at the station, chased after it, got into an accident at an intersection not far away, and then her remnant soul likely returned to scare Zhao Hongcheng, her body ended up in the morgue, and then she possibly reanimated to scare Old Hou?”

Kuang Feifan shrugged. “That sounds like the progression.”

Feng Tian spread his hands. “In that case, it has nothing to do with us. It seems this incident is concluded; the rest is up to the police's competence to investigate the vehicle responsible for the crash.”

Kuang Feifan smiled, though a look of deep contemplation settled on his face.

Suddenly, he asked Feng Tian, “If the Ghost Car is called a ghost car, shouldn’t it be intangible? Is it even capable of causing harm?”

Feng Tian paused, then understood his implication. “You’re worried Luo Jingjing wasn't killed by an ordinary car?”

Kuang Feifan nodded.

Feng Tian thought for a moment, sounding somewhat helpless. “I’ve never actually encountered a case where a Ghost Car caused a fatality, so… I don’t know.”

Kuang Feifan turned and walked to the hospital room door, pushing it open to call Wang Hai, whom he pulled aside. “When you and your girlfriend found Luo Jingjing’s body, did you notice any tire marks on the ground near the corpse from sudden braking?”

“Uh…” Wang Hai scratched his head. “You've stumped me there. I’m not a cop, I don’t have the skills to process a crime scene.”

Kuang Feifan knew this but was unwilling to give up. He encouraged him, “Can you try to remember carefully? Think about whether there were any distinct black tire streaks near the body, the kind that appear straight over a short distance.”

Wang Hai knitted his brows, thinking intensely for a moment before hesitantly saying, “Come to think of it, I think there might have been, but I can’t be sure.”

Kuang Feifan clapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him over. “Sorry to trouble you, can I have the car keys again?”

Wang Hai handed them over and asked, “Where are you two going?”

“The accident scene,” Kuang Feifan said with grave seriousness. “I intend to keep following this lead.”