Jie Yuting spoke weakly, "My apologies, I misspoke. It should be the third white tile directly to your front-left."

I was speechless for a moment, so I had no choice but to follow his instructions.

The instant my foot landed on that floor tile, there was a distinct click, and another mechanism was triggered.

I expected an iron gate to slam down from the ceiling, sealing the passage completely shut.

However, what actually happened was that I suddenly felt the ground vanish beneath me, and I plummeted down.

As I fell, I heard Da Xiong cry out in alarm, "Can you even handle this, Jie Yuting? I swear I'll strangle you!"

I only caught that single sentence before realizing the shaft I was falling into was a smooth incline, like a slide. My body couldn't stop itself from rushing downwards, and the light and sound from above quickly vanished from my world.

The slide wasn't particularly long; it twisted twice before I reached the bottom.

Then, something soft yielded beneath my backside—it felt like I had landed in a pile of soft material.

My vision wasn't dark; instead, there was a faint, pale green glow, accompanied by the giggling sounds of children, giving the atmosphere a strangely eerie quality.

I shook my head in exasperation and looked at the spot where I had landed. Beneath me was a heap of dolls.

But these dolls were vastly different from ordinary ones. Their faces were all distorted, their hair matted and filthy. And upon their faces, smears of red paint resembled dried blood.

These dolls varied in size, some as large as an actual person.

I paused to consider: a doll as big as a real person shouldn't really be called a doll anymore; perhaps it should be called a... **!

This kind of thing really appeals to the twisted tastes of the Japanese, especially if a Japanese girl had fallen in here; she would surely be thoroughly terrified by the ambiance.

Looking at these objects—somewhat uncanny, yet profoundly tedious—I sighed, shook my head again, and stood up, dusting off my rear.

I surveyed the surroundings and discovered I was inside a relatively large ship's cabin, likely one that had been converted for this purpose.

I noticed bunk beds made of steel frames lining the left and right walls, probably where the ship's crew used to sleep.

The bedding and blankets were still on the steel frames, lumpy and full, suggesting someone was still sleeping inside, occasionally emitting soft, whimpering cries.

Seeing all this, I felt as if I had stumbled into a haunted house attraction at an amusement park—utterly beyond words.

I knew the exit door was on the wall directly in front of me, but currently, a headless doll was blocking it.

I didn't have time to waste here. I walked to the door, pushed aside the headless doll obstructing the way, and the thing actually emitted a jarring creak, making me jump.

I rolled my eyes, gripped the doorknob, and was just about to turn it when I distinctly heard something heavy thump down behind me.

Assuming it was one of the others who had fallen, I spun around quickly to look, but saw nothing.

The large and small dolls lay there still, silently weeping bloody tears.

I shrugged, confirming there was no actual threat, and thought perhaps it was just a noise made by someone walking carelessly above.

I needed to get back to the deck immediately; Da Xiong and Liang Qian didn't know what was happening, and they probably needed my help right now.

Exiting that room, I found myself in a corridor lined with similar rooms on both sides.

The corridor was lit by dim, yellowish incandescent bulbs, their light extremely low and flickering, creating a bizarre atmosphere of oscillating shadow and light.

There seemed to be movement in every room, and the doors of some were opening and closing with grotesque squeaking sounds.

Ignoring the cacophony of strange noises, I walked toward one end of the hallway.

On the lower decks of typical cruise liners, there are stairs on both sides leading up, so I didn't pay much mind, casually choosing a direction.

Passing several doors that kept emitting weird sounds, I reached the end of the corridor, only to discover that just as I was about to reach the staircase leading up, the hallway was abruptly sealed off by a solid wall.

I cursed my bad luck inwardly, realizing this space had been intentionally converted into a dead end just to heighten the sense of terror.

I saw that this black wall was adorned with a string of bloody handprints, above which a line of text was written in Japanese.

Although I couldn't read the script of the little Japanese devils, I guessed it must say something along the lines of: "You have nowhere left to run; await the vengeful spirit coming to claim your life!"

I searched the immediate area and confirmed this wall was not a mechanism that could be opened, so I prepared to turn back.

But just as I pivoted, I caught a glimpse of a tall, imposing female figure flashing past me and slipping into a room on the left.

"What trickery is this now?" For the first time, a sliver of unease crept into my heart.

Even as I told myself it was just a trick, I had seen the woman enter the door with my own eyes; it couldn't be fake.

The women on the ship were only Liang Qian and Long Jia, neither of whom was particularly tall. The woman just now stood at least one meter seventy-five.

I froze in place, rubbing my chin, wondering if this was one of Jie Yuting's subordinates.

But Jie Yuting seemed to have known we would encounter danger; this wasn't a pleasure trip. The possibility of him bringing a female subordinate was very slim, as not everyone possessed Liang Qian's combat skills, and women usually become a liability in a real confrontation.

But besides Jie Yuting's staff, I genuinely couldn't think of any other explanation.

The people on this ship were just us, plus Jie Yuting's group, plus those strange adversaries. The chances of women being among the enemy were also extremely slim.

Even if there were, seeing me standing at the end of the hallway, they certainly wouldn't hide first; they would have opened fire and killed me immediately.

This logic narrowed the possibility of the figure being human, making it increasingly likely—if it wasn't a mechanism—could it be... a ghost?

Recalling the many deaths on this ship, coupled with the deeply unsettling atmosphere, it wasn't strange that this thought crossed my mind.

But after a moment's thought, I told myself, "Damn it, so many times I thought it was a ghost, and nothing ever materialized. This time, it's surely just some weird thing acting up. Whatever it is, I'll drag it out and give it a beating!"

Thinking that, I suddenly felt a surge of crude, brute confidence; perhaps this skin I wore wasn't just for show.

I strode quickly to the door the woman had entered, examined it, and found it firmly closed.

Pulling my handgun from my lower back, I became like a SWAT officer cracking down on illegal activities, gripping the gun and pressing my ear against the door.

I detected no movement inside, only a low, somewhat mournful singing sound. So, I kicked the door once, preparing to charge in.

Unexpectedly, the door was too solid. My first kick didn't budge it, so I kicked it twice more before it finally burst open.

As the door flew inward, I immediately raised my weapon and shouted into the darkness, "Who! Who's in there! Get out now!"

I admit, I'm no hardened veteran, so my voice wavered slightly, and my hand trembled a bit.

But my voice was loud enough for anyone inside to hear.

Yet, I stood at the threshold for three full minutes, and there was not the slightest sound from within the room.

Feeling somewhat puzzled, I scanned the interior arrangement.

It was a room predominantly themed in dark red; both the lighting and the furniture appeared to be dark red hues.

Although the light was dim, I could clearly see that the entire floor was covered in scattered sheets of paper, densely covered with cramped script.

Against the far wall, directly opposite, stood a long table laden with books bound in cowhide.

In addition to the books, there were over a dozen stark white skulls resting there, each with a snuffed-out candle stuck into the top of its cranium.

The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was also composed of countless tiny skulls.

I recognized this as an imitation of medieval black magic styling. Because seated in the large chair behind that table was a figure dressed in a black robe and wearing a pointed hat—a stereotypical wizard costume.

The person dressed as a wizard kept their head bowed, obscuring their face, but judging by the layer of dust on the robes, it was clearly a mannequin.

I took a quick survey; the room's layout was entirely visible, except for two large cabinets against the side walls. I couldn't tell what was inside them, but they were certainly large enough to conceal a person.

I re-confirmed there was no one else present, then frowned and stepped inside.

My first approach was naturally toward the figure clad in the wizard's robes.