When Feng Tian saw the face of the male corpse behind the door, he was so horrified he couldn't speak. Then, watching the man, who was clearly a corpse, suddenly speak to him, his mind felt completely emptied, his thoughts a blank slate.

He stared intently at the corpse's face—a face far too familiar, one he saw in the mirror every day. Moreover, he knew his own body intimately and could state with absolute certainty that the male corpse lying on the flat gurney was himself, or rather, an identical double.

Feng Tian felt as if he’d been punched in the chest, his breath catching instantly. At this moment, he became increasingly certain that everything unfolding before him was something he had witnessed before; the feeling grew stronger and stronger.

This was because the events that were about to happen were already flashing through his mind: the "self" outside the door would soon raise its hands and use its own hands to strangle his neck.

As expected, just as these images flashed across his memory, the identical male corpse outside slowly sat bolt upright. The hands that had been resting alongside its body now stiffly raised, just as he predicted, opening their palms and slowly moving them towards the neck.

As the corpse increased the pressure, Feng Tian felt as if his own neck were being choked, and his breathing immediately became difficult.

In that instant, a strange feeling washed over him: that the corpse outside was the real him, and the body he currently occupied inside the elevator was merely a figment of his imagination.

As the grip on his neck tightened and breathing grew more strenuous, the scene before him began to blur, even seeming to twist and distort.

The air in his lungs diminished rapidly, and the lack of oxygen produced an intense sensation of suffocation. Yet, it was precisely this inability to breathe that saved Feng Tian’s life. This sensation actually shattered the preceding state of thoughtlessness. It was at this exact moment that Feng Tian mustered every last ounce of strength and spat out the mouthful of saliva mixed with blood from his tongue.

It had to be said that his blood, preserved by maintaining his virginal state, was a precious thing. Even though the current Feng Tian was powerless because his neck was restrained and his aim was completely off, the spat blood flew out through the iron grate door. Even though it was mostly just spittle, the moment it touched the male corpse, it inflicted damage upon it.

As if splashed with strong acid, the area of the corpse hit by the spittle reacted instantly. The skin began to blister and rot, and then, the decay spread outwards, consuming the entire body at an unbelievable speed.

The male corpse began to writhe in agony. The hands choking its neck involuntarily loosened, its whole body shaking violently. It craned its head back forcefully, opening its mouth wide, letting out a roar from its throat that sounded like a severely wounded beast.

Simultaneously, Feng Tian felt the pressure on his neck release and instinctively gasped for air, which immediately flooded his lungs. Although the feeling of suffocation vanished, he was simultaneously hit by a searing, burning pain throughout his body. However, this pain was something Feng Tian could endure.

More fortunately, the pain restored his ability to think, though he still had no definitive answer for everything that had just happened.

Although *technology was widely disseminated in this era, Feng Tian absolutely refused to believe that what he was seeing was related to that kind of scientific advancement; it was far more likely to be his own hallucination.

But compared to a hallucination, what Feng Tian saw, heard, smelled, and felt was too real. If it were a hallucination, a single mouthful of blood should have been enough to break the spell, yet clearly, the iron door and the corpse remained.

Was it a hallucination after all?

Feng Tian was filled with doubt. Gradually, as the word "hallucination" repeated in his mind, a flash of light finally pierced his memory.

He knew why he felt this sense of déjà vu. Long, long ago, he had endured a long stretch of continuous nightmares, and every dream was the same: in the dream, he saw himself, separated by a door, lying on a gurney being wheeled out of the morgue...

It was then that Feng Tian realized the partial reason for his experience: some unseen force had transformed the things he feared most in his heart into reality.

It was a hallucination, yet not entirely. Everything, he suspected, was connected to the Nine Revolutions Soul Suppression Formation.

Having identified the cause, Feng Tian couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Even though the scene before him differed from a normal illusion, there might still be means to dispel it.

Feng Tian gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, bit open his left finger, and drew a crooked, winding talisman sign on his right palm with the bloodied finger. This was the only blood talisman Feng Tian knew how to use—the simplest, yet most effective.

He sucked on his bitten finger, then slammed his palm—the one bearing the drawn symbol—onto the close door button of the control panel next to the elevator door.

Immediately, Feng Tian seemed to see red lights flicker a few times inside the control panel. Without any warning, the elevator doors made a faint "swish-swish" sound and slowly began to close.

Following this, the elevator shuddered slightly and began to move slowly.

However, what surprised Feng Tian was that he couldn't tell whether he was moving up or down, making him wonder if he had lost some of his sensory capabilities.

But this time was different from the previous situation; the elevator quickly stopped after a slight jolt.

With a soft "Ding," the elevator doors slowly opened again.

To be honest, Feng Tian was quite nervous at this point. After the previous ordeal, he suddenly felt uncertain about distinguishing between reality and illusion.

But when the light streamed in through the open elevator doors, Feng Tian finally managed to breathe a small sigh of relief; the light entering looked perfectly normal.

When the doors fully opened, what appeared before Feng Tian was a corridor familiar from his memory—the corridor leading to the underground morgue.

Never before had Feng Tian looked upon this corridor and felt such a profound sense of familiarity.

He rushed out of the elevator without hesitation. As he passed the elevator doors, his heart tightened momentarily, terrified that the doors would slam shut violently.

Fortunately, everything seemed normal so far.

He finally felt grounded when his feet touched the corridor floor. He glanced back at the darkened elevator, vowing that for some time, he would never use the elevator to go up or down again, preferring the stairs upon his return.

He surveyed the corridor; there seemed to be no abnormalities. Feng Tian hurried toward the duty room where Old Hou usually stayed.

Under normal circumstances, since Old Hou was hospitalized for these few days, the morgue should have arranged someone for the night shift. But when Feng Tian pushed open the duty room door, he found it empty—neither Old Hou nor a replacement was there. The door, however, was unlocked, whether by accident or due to some issue, he couldn't tell.

Just as he was wondering, a sudden cry echoed from somewhere down the corridor outside.

Feng Tian froze momentarily, then spun around and rushed out of the duty room door. Although it was just a brief sound, he could pinpoint its location. If he wasn't mistaken, the cry had come from the direction of the nearby morgue.

When the morgue door came into view, Feng Tian immediately saw that it was ajar, and right at the threshold, the upper half of a person was clearly visible.

It was Old Hou.