Under the beam of the flashlight, what appeared in Kuang Feifan's sight was a face drained of all color, almost unrecognizable. Not long ago, even while sick, Zhao Hongcheng hadn't looked anything like this—cheekbones protruding, cheeks sunken, resembling a skeleton merely covered in skin and bone. In the hollowed-out black sockets where his eyes should have been, there were no pupils, only two ghastly white orbs that seemed to constantly shift. His nose was gone, looking like a black cavity formed by decay. Similarly, little was left of his lips, revealing only festering gums and teeth stained with blood.

Yet, even with such a face, an expression of sheer terror was evident. Facing Kuang Feifan, he seemed to be staring at a fearsome demon, utterly unaware of the horrifying state he himself had become.

Perhaps his body had also undergone a change, as the hospital gown now hung on him like a massive, shapeless sack, billowing out as he turned and scrambled upstairs, making him look as if he were floating.

Startled by the sight, Kuang Feifan involuntarily shuddered and stopped in his tracks. But after a panicked glance at him, Zhao Hongcheng continued his ascent. His speed was indeed extraordinary, and in a moment, he vanished beyond the reach of the flashlight beam.

Though only a glance, that face seemed to remain imprinted before Kuang Feifan. He forced himself to grip the flashlight, trying desperately not to let it slip and crash to the floor, but the slight tremor in the beam betrayed the terror rising within him. The surrounding darkness amplified this fear, like countless tiny insects slowly gnawing away at his courage.

For a fleeting instant, Kuang Feifan considered turning tail and running. Fine beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, the tip of his nose, and his palms.

However, Kuang Feifan hesitated for only a moment before lifting his leg and following. He had to confirm whether Zhao Hongcheng was alive or if something terrible had already befallen him. He just had a strange feeling; despite witnessing that face, Zhao Hongcheng wasn't dead.

What followed exceeded his expectations. He thought he could keep pace with Zhao Hongcheng earlier, but now, no matter how fast he climbed, the flashlight beam could no longer illuminate his figure. Only the persistently echoing footsteps indicated that the person ahead hadn't stopped.

The dark stairwell easily bred a suffocating sense of oppression. The flickering flashlight offered no comfort; instead, it felt like he was advancing down the path to the underworld, a road symbolizing death.

Kuang Feifan desperately wanted to catch up to Zhao Hongcheng, yet a thread of dread held him back—the fear that the next sweep of the light might reveal that voluminous gown and that spectral face.

Thus, as his pursing steps rounded a flight of stairs, he suddenly found the way ahead blocked by a closed iron door.

Kuang Feifan paused, then realized he had reached the top floor. This door must lead to the roof. He shone his light upon it and saw that the bolt had been pulled back, and the heavy padlock that had been hanging there was snapped off and tossed onto the ground.

This discovery startled Kuang Feifan. Breaking open such a large padlock without the right tools would be incredibly difficult, let alone tearing it clean off. Moreover, it looked recently broken. That meant Zhao Hongcheng had been the one to shear the lock.

Kuang Feifan took a deep, involuntary breath and tentatively pushed the iron door. As expected, it yielded easily, opening a crack. Instantly, a blast of cold wind swept through the gap, making him instinctively shiver.

But Kuang Feifan could sense this was natural air. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the door open and rushed out.

He saw no silhouette immediately. A faint light, emanating from an unknown source, vaguely illuminated patches of the surrounding area, but only partially. Kuang Feifan scanned his surroundings and soon spotted a figure near the roof railing within his line of sight, wildly gesticulating with both hands held high in the air, flailing about as if engaged in some dark ritual.

Then he realized he was mistaken. The figure was merely waving its arms meaninglessly, looking as if it were struggling with something—though its opponent was nothing but empty air.

Kuang Feifan paused, cautiously approaching the figure with his flashlight held steady. As he drew closer, he could see the tireless figure was indeed Zhao Hongcheng. The unrecognizable face displayed teeth bared wide, as if screaming in agony, yet Kuang Feifan heard no sound escaping his mouth.

Despite the silence, Kuang Feifan could sense the profound despair in the man's posture, and his indescribable actions seemed to him like a battle against an unseen entity.

Just as Kuang Feifan was about to reach Zhao Hongcheng, the situation shifted abruptly. Zhao Hongcheng suddenly froze, whipped his head around, and fixed his gaze on Kuang Feifan.

This movement caused Kuang Feifan to stop dead in his tracks. Then, he watched as Zhao Hongcheng turned, vaulted over the railing, and his body vanished instantly into the night. Faintly visible for a moment, the oversized hospital gown fluttered like a colossal bat in the air before disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

It all happened too quickly for Kuang Feifan to react. By the time he lunged forward, all he could see was a brief outline plummeting into the darkness below.

Kuang Feifan stared blankly downward for a long time. Finally, he slammed his fist heavily against the railing in front of him. Though he knew that even without pausing, he couldn't have stopped Zhao Hongcheng with his speed, watching him fall nevertheless left a heavy weight in his chest. It felt as though something was choking his throat, making even his breathing uneven.

He began to gasp for air, great lungfuls of it, while a feeling of utter despondency washed over him. He remained hunched over the railing, his eyes staring blankly into the inky night beyond. The blackness seemed to coalesce into a massive vortex, drawing in and consuming his gaze, making it impossible to look away, even to turn his head.

Slowly, his body began to lean further out over the railing. Just as Kuang Feifan realized something was wrong, a wave of utter hopelessness flooded his mind. A voice seemed to whisper within his brain, telling him that everything he had done was meaningless, all effort futile, and that it would be better to simply end it now.

At this moment, Kuang Feifan’s eyes had lost all their former light. He stared woodenly at the churning vortex in the night sky, half his body already extended beyond the railing, only a faint spark of subconscious awareness preventing him from simply climbing over and jumping.

But then, a sharp, searing pain, as if his wrist had been touched by fire, shot instantly from his wrist to his brain. It was this intense jolt of pain that snapped Kuang Feifan awake, consciousness flooding back in a flash. Now able to think again, Kuang Feifan immediately registered his perilous situation, feeling that his feet, still inside the railing, were already lifted off the ground, requiring only a slight push to clear the barrier.

He frantically used his hands to pull his extended body back, stumbling backward several steps before collapsing onto the rooftop floor in a kneeling position. Having barely escaped death, he could do nothing but gasp for breath, utterly drained of strength.

While Kuang Feifan sat on the roof, still reeling from the shock, Feng Tian’s situation was quite different; he was not inside the hospital building.

After separating from Kuang Feifan at the elevator, Feng Tian had headed straight for Old Hou's room.

Only Old Hou’s wife was present in the ward. After questioning her for quite a while, he gleaned no useful clues. Feng Tian, due to his usual habits, hadn't thought to check the surveillance footage at that moment.

Just as he was preparing to leave the room to question others, Kuang Feifan’s call came through, which brought a flicker of joy to Feng Tian. Like Kuang Feifan, he too intended to check the stairwell.

However, just as Feng Tian was about to push the door open, two nurses approached from down the hall. Snippets of their conversation immediately caught his attention.

“I think I just saw Old Hou walk by,” one said.

“Which Old Hou?” the other asked.

“The one who checks the dead bodies.”

“Oh, so that was him. Looked like he was heading to work.”

Feng Tian didn't approach them to ask. Hearing their exchange, he guessed they must have seen Old Hou heading toward the academic building, despite the fact that there was absolutely no reason for him to be working that day.

Thinking of this, he immediately abandoned the idea of entering the stairwell. He turned on his heel, rushed to the elevator, and took it directly to the first floor, then jogged quickly toward the academic building.

He didn't know when Old Hou had left or why he would go to the academic building. Given his current physical condition, there shouldn't be any business for him at the morgue, and that place wasn't somewhere one went for a casual stroll.

Arriving outside the academic building, he found the main doors locked. He went to the elevator access leading downstairs and, without overthinking it, pressed the call button.

With a "ding," the elevator doors slowly slid open before him. The sickly pale overhead light illuminated the empty cabin, involuntarily inducing a sense of isolation.

Feng Tian managed a brief smile, unable to fathom why such an emotion suddenly surfaced.

But as he stepped inside the elevator, he realized this feeling wasn't unfounded—there was indeed something wrong with the space. A barely perceptible trace of resentment hung in the air.

He intended to step out, but before he could move, the elevator doors slammed shut. Unlike when they opened, the metal doors, which should have moved slowly, closed with a heavy clang.

This sent a jolt of fear through Feng Tian. If he had been a fraction slower, he might have been caught between those heavy doors. Judging by the force of the closure, it would have been enough to crush him into a human pancake.

Even more astonishingly, before he could press any floor buttons, the elevator shuddered once and began to descend slowly.

Feng Tian’s nerves instantly tightened. Simultaneously, the light at the top of the elevator flickered twice and went out silently.

This sudden change startled Feng Tian, but he didn't lose his composure. He merely reached into his pocket and pulled out the ghost-repelling spray.

Yet, he immediately realized the spray might be useless. Nothing appeared amiss within the elevator car. What was unsettling was that the descent to the next floor should have been quick, but the elevator kept dropping. Based on the speed and time elapsed, it should have long passed the basement level, yet it showed no signs of stopping.

Feng Tian couldn't help but worry: where exactly was this elevator heading?