Feng Tian’s peripheral vision caught sight of countless eyes outside the car window, startling him instantly. He hastily turned his head to look closely and was immediately struck with horror.

Noticing his unusual expression, Kuang Feifan couldn't help but turn to look as well. He too saw eyes glowing with a faint green light. Amidst his surprise, he observed that they weren't merely pairs of eyes; one could vaguely make out pale faces behind them. It was the green luminescence in the eyes that illuminated the white faces against the darkness.

What was even harder for them to believe was that these pale faces were actually painted. By now, both Feng Tian and Kuang Feifan recognized that the ghastly white visages outside were not human faces but masks crafted from paper. Under the eerie green glow, one could roughly discern the lines marking the nose, mouth, and the blush on either cheek—all rendered with ink.

Yet, in that hidden green light, these very faces appeared uncannily lifelike. The two men could sense a rapacious hunger and stark malice emanating from these two-dimensional surfaces, as if the figures were ready to pounce at any moment.

Feng Tian and Kuang Feifan stared wide-eyed out the window. Suddenly, without waiting for Feng Tian’s agreement, Kuang Feifan spun around, snatched a saw he had found beneath the seat, and began hacking at the backrest of the seat.

In that moment, Feng Tian forgot about caring for the saw, but under the high tension, seeing the tool in Kuang Feifan’s hand, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: How did he even think to look under the seat?

He owned that saw because he had intended, at some point, to find a suitable peach tree, cut two branches, but he never found a tree, so the saw ended up left in the car. He never expected Kuang Feifan to be the one to find it now.

In fact, the only reason they managed to react was because they were trapped together. Had one been alone, facing the absolute darkness outside, prolonged mental strain could have led to a complete breakdown. But together, they offered each other psychological support. Furthermore, one was a professional, and the other possessed formidable mental resilience. Confronted by the sudden appearance of those bizarre faces, though panicked, they didn't entirely lose control.

But soon, they realized that the paper faces floating in the air all around the car were closing in. Kuang Feifan felt cold sweat bead on his forehead, yet he had only managed to score an opening in the seat back. Wiping his brow, he shoved his hand inside to grope toward the trunk compartment.

Feng Tian quickly reached over and closed the front and rear windows, hoping to buy some time. He knew, however, that the windows might not offer much real defense; the action was mostly for psychological comfort.

After leaning over and locking the rear window, he too wiped the sweat from his face and anxiously asked, "Haven't you gotten it out yet?"

Kuang Feifan rolled his eyes and grumbled back, "Why don't you try? It’s not exactly easy to yank out."

Despite his words, he finally managed to heave the large satchel through the slit he had carved in the seat back.

Feng Tian strained to recline the front seat all the way down, maximizing the interior space. Together with Kuang Feifan, they pulled the bag over and began digging through it, searching for anything they could use.

As he searched for tools, the scene outside had changed dramatically. As the green-eyed paper faces emerged from the darkness flanking the car, the green light from their eyes began to reveal the shapes beneath the facades. Besides the grotesque painted faces, one could see ragged cloth robes beneath the heads; hands and feet were indistinct, but a pair of luminous, glaring eyes betrayed their fierce intent.

"Found it..." Feng Tian suddenly exclaimed.

He pulled out a metal canister that looked exactly like a can of insecticide.

Kuang Feifan leaned in for a closer look, nearly choking with frustration. Feng Tian had retrieved a can of gas used for refilling lighters.

"This..." he started to question.

Feng Tian waved him off, holding the can and shaking it violently. Kuang Feifan cried out, "Careful with the lighter in your other hand."

But Feng Tian ignored him. After shaking it vigorously, he handed the can to Kuang Feifan, along with the closed lighter, saying, "If we have to go out, use this to clear a path..."

As he spoke, he fished out a compass and set it on the adjacent seat to study it. Kuang Feifan then realized that even without lighting the lighter, he could see reasonably well inside; the ghastly green light from outside had already cast an eerie green veil over the car's interior.

"Go out?" Kuang Feifan questioned, pondering the implication of Feng Tian's words.

Feng Tian took a deep breath but still couldn't control the rapid thumping of his heart. His voice trembled slightly as he said, "Yes, we absolutely have to get out of the car. The engine is dead, and we are clearly not in the normal living world. For some unknown reason, both of us and the car have been pulled into some kind of spectral domain."

As he spoke, paper figures were already pressing against the car. However, it seemed they couldn't penetrate the vehicle, so they merely circled around it. A dry, rustling sound filled the car—the friction of the tattered cloth robes beneath the paper figures scraping against the bodywork.

Hearing this, Kuang Feifan felt his scalp crawl and goosebumps erupt all over. He hadn't fully registered Feng Tian’s words, only catching the term "spectral domain," and could only manage a questioning, "Hm?"

Feng Tian, noticing the sound, was startled as well. He truly didn't know if they could break out successfully, but the compass suggested that if they didn't find an exit soon, they would be trapped in this space forever.

He struggled to articulate the situation to Kuang Feifan, settling for, "Just think of this as another dimension, and this dimension is full of monsters hiding in the dark. So we must get out and find the way back."

Kuang Feifan understood this explanation, and he understood the necessity of leaving the car to find a path. He sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively uttered, "Go out? Isn't that suicide?"

Feng Tian looked out the window. The car was now encircled by these paper figures drifting in the air, obscuring the view behind them. Pairs of green-glowing eyes swept the interior like searchlights. He wondered if these things could see through the polarized film on the glass.

"We either try to find a way out, or we wait to die. Which option do you prefer?" Feng Tian asked, his words barely gritted out.

Kuang Feifan believed him implicitly. He bit his lip and nodded firmly, asking, "How do we break through?"

The two surveyed the exterior. Clearly, there was no space left for them to exit around the car. But the realization that all four doors were jammed brought a feeling of utter helplessness.

After observing for a moment, Kuang Feifan noticed something: the paper figures circling the car didn't seem able to float freely anywhere they pleased. Those gathered at the front were only on the sides and the hood, not quite able to drift onto the engine block itself.

"Smash the glass and go out the front," Kuang Feifan whispered his suggestion, unsure if the paper figures could comprehend their speech.

Feng Tian considered it and thought the plan might work. They discussed a few precautions for when they exited, then retrieved the makeshift backpack. Feng Tian selected several potentially useful items and stuffed them in, slinging it over his shoulder.

Once preparations seemed complete, Kuang Feifan took a long rope and tied both ends securely around their waists. After exchanging a look, Feng Tian grabbed a wrench found in the front storage compartment and forcefully smashed the windshield. He immediately kicked twice, shattering the film-covered glass outward. Kuang Feifan then swiftly maneuvered himself out, bracing his hands and crouching on the hood. As he turned back, Feng Tian instantly passed him the gas cylinder with the cap already removed.

Kuang Feifan realized the cylinder seemed modified, featuring a long nozzle and a downward-pressing button—clearly prepared for creating a jet of fire.

This sequence happened in mere seconds, but the paper figures had evidently registered the exit. They suddenly lunged forward toward Kuang Feifan. A sound like crumpled paper being crushed filled the air. The paper figures kneeling on the hood immediately saw several figures that had been swaying moments before suddenly bow forward, their heads elongated and distorted—though they were clearly paper, their faces stretched unnaturally. Where their mouths should have been, a gaping black hole formed, large enough, it seemed, to swallow Kuang Feifan's head whole.

Kuang Feifan dared not hesitate. Holding the canister in one hand, he struck the lighter against his clothes with the other, spraying the gas from the can toward the heads of the approaching figures. Simultaneously, he brought the lighter close.

Instantly, a jet of flame shot forward, directed at the nearest paper figure’s head.

However, because his stance was momentarily unstable, the flame shot directly into the paper figure's wide-open mouth, vanishing as if dropped into a well. The fire, entering that black void, was completely consumed by the darkness, having absolutely no effect.

Struck by horror, Kuang Feifan desperately adjusted his angle without withdrawing the continuous stream of fire. He swept the flame downward, aiming for the tattered robe beneath the paper head.

This time, he struck the correct target. A lively patch of flame erupted on the cloth, instantly spreading outward with unbelievable speed to engulf the entire figure, including the head. Without resistance, the paper figure was entirely consumed by fire in moments.

This success brought Kuang Feifan immense relief. He hadn't expected these bizarre paper figures to be so easy to deal with. He dared not linger, immediately aiming the gas canister at the next target.

Though the number of paper figures circling the car was difficult to count precisely, their movements appeared sluggish, as if they could only drift with an unseen current rather than fully control their actions. This meant that the leading figures that lunged forward were quickly incinerated by the canister in Kuang Feifan’s hand, while the others milling near the doors couldn't quickly fill the resulting gaps.

Seizing the opportunity, Kuang Feifan rushed forward to the very edge of the hood, only to stop abruptly, hesitant to advance further.

During this brief pause, the paper figures on either side began to close in again. Just then, Feng Tian was squeezing out of the car. Seeing Kuang Feifan's posture suddenly rigid, he was greatly alarmed, and the color of his face turned several shades paler than the paper masks outside.

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