Ming Po ca up the stairs, pushed open the door to the ergency exit, and stepped inside.
Clatter—
The mont he pushed the door open, a soda can at the edge of the hallway suddenly rolled toward him of its own accord, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise silent corridor.
Ming Po remained unhurried, not even bothering to look down.
Like a soccer player receiving a pass, he delivered a swift kick, sending it flying straight out!
The can went soaring with a sharp whistle, striking a distant wall with a loud clatter.
"Hmph."
Ming Po chuckled, his pace steady as he stepped onto the carpet.
The second-floor hallway was like a maze—or rather, it was a maze itself.
Stepping out from the ergency exit revealed three branching corridors: one straight ahead, one to the left, and one to the right. There was no discernible difference between them, and none seed to have an end in sight.
The signs on the walls were blurred, stained with brown smudges that looked suspiciously like dried blood.
The plush carpet beneath his feet was buried under a thick layer of dust. It was dirty to a degree that was visibly apparent—Ming Po had no doubt that a forceful stomp would imdiately kick up a cloud of filth.
The place had been abandoned for a long ti. The water and electricity bills must have gone unpaid for ages, and the elevators were counterfeited out of commission.
Ming Po's expression remained tranquil, his footsteps entirely composed. He picked a path at random and strode straight ahead.
After walking for about ten seconds, a door further down the hall slowly crept open, letting out a teeth-grinding creak.
Ming Po's footsteps paused.
As he looked toward the door, the sound of a lock clicking open suddenly echoed from behind him.
He slowly turned his head, unhurried, only to discover that the path he had just taken had vanished.
The hallway behind him was now identical to the one ahead.
Furthermore, the door that had opened was the exact sa door on the right out of the four ahead of him.
"Oh?"
Ming Po chuckled, just about to walk over.
Suddenly, soone yanked the door shut from the inside with a violent slam!
He glanced back just in ti to see the door behind him also slam shut, delayed by about a second.
Without a doubt, this was an invitation.
But the question was—should he go to the front or the back first?
Ming Po opted for neither. Instead, he lifted his cara and murmured, "Family, do you know what I'm thinking right now?"
His voice was deep and magnetic, sounding less like an explorer in an abandoned haunted hotel and more like a late-night radio host. "I'm thinking it sure would be nice to have an axe right about now."
Ming Po smiled, addressing the lens directly. "Have you guys ever seen The Shining? I quite like it—"
"The story of The Shining takes place in a hotel—though not an abandoned one. Fittingly enough, we're in a resort hotel too, aren't we?"
"When I watched The Shining back in the day, I thought it was incredibly cool."
"I kept thinking that if I ever got the chance, I'd definitely pull a stunt like that—I an, the scene where he hacks through the door with an axe."
"—Because what else is there to do? Scream?"
He burst out laughing.
Ming Po's hearty laughter echoed hollowly through the dim, empty corridor, sohow far more terrifying than the doors opening and closing on their own.
He felt a bit bored. These viewers at least helped alleviate the loneliness a little—even if it was a one-sided conversation where he spoke and they just listened.
But then again, that wasn't much different from his usual routine.
When Ming Po was a child, there was a spider hanging near his desk. Sotis, he would lower his voice and have earnest conversations with it, pretending it possessed human intelligence, could understand him, and would even reply.
Later on, it seed the nanny ntioned this habit to his parents, which prompted them to buy him a cat.
It was a Persian cat of excellent pedigree.
Back in 2003, it had cost three thousand yuan.
Ming Po adored it. Whenever he had free ti, he would hold the cat and talk to it.
He imagined the feline had its own personality and solemnly referred to it as "Lady Weiwei." At the ti, he had heard that 'one cat year equals seven or eight human years,' or alternatively, 'a cat's first year is like fifteen human years,' and Ming Po was barely six years old.
Going by that logic, he wasn't even as old as the cat—it was already a year old when they brought it ho.
Ming Po would imagine how his pet might respond, pretend it had actually said those words, and then reply in all seriousness.
They spent three or four months together like that. The cat was well-behaved, never once attacking him or causing any trouble around the house.
But then, one day as Ming Po was getting ready to leave the house, the cat suddenly squeezed through a crack in the door and bolted.
Ming Po sprinted after it, but the faster he ran, the faster the cat ran.
Eventually, he lost track of it.
And it never ca back.
Maybe it beca a stray. Maybe it died out there. Maybe it got lost trying to find its way ho, or maybe soone else picked it up and kept it. At the ti, Ming Po had never considered that it might run away, so he hadn't even given it a collar.
He put up missing cat posters offering a five-thousand-yuan reward. Many people contacted him, but none of the cats were his Weiwei.
From that day on, Ming Po never kept another pet.
They got sick, they died, they ran away.
Pets weren't any better than people.
They would betray him just the sa, turning their backs and leaving forever.
Ming Po picked a direction at random and walked over to investigate.
The number on the door read 2018.
He glanced back at the other door; that one read 2031.
"I wonder if there's a 2012—"
Ming Po mused. "I'd like to take a look inside."
He casually chose room 2031 and pulled the key card from his pocket.
Raising the card, he held it up to the light, right in the center of his field of vision.
After staring at it for a few seconds, the card's description materialized:
[Master Key Card]
[Type: Tool]
[Effect: Opens the electronic locks of guest rooms within the Water Mirror Resort (regardless of power supply)]
[Restrictions: None]
[Description: A dust-covered key card possessing the highest authority level, capable of opening all guest room doors.]
"Tsk."
Ming Po clicked his tongue in boredom. "Having a key card feels a bit la. An axe really would have been better—"
"At the end of the day, there's obviously no electricity here. So why does the key card work? Even if it has an internal battery, the charge should have drained completely after all these years. It makes no sense—"
Muttering his complaints, he swiped open the door to room 2031.
He tentatively slotted the card into the power switch by the door, and as expected, it did absolutely nothing.
"It would be great if I could strap this flashlight to my head."
Ming Po sighed and returned the key card to his pocket. He brought out his flashlight and illuminated the room.
He really didn't have enough hands—even holding the gimbal with one hand, it was impossible to juggle the flashlight, the key card, and the hamr with the other.
He swept his gaze across the entire room, like a lion patrolling its territory, but failed to locate the owner of the pale arm that had pulled the door shut earlier.
It looked like soone had used the room.
Or rather—after the previous occupant left, it hadn't been cleaned or reset.
The blanket was completely wrinkled, and towels were scattered across the floor. So pillows were flattened from being slept on, while others had been tossed carelessly onto the carpet.
"I'm getting a little sleepy, family."
Ming Po let out a yawn.
The petty little jump scares from earlier had been sowhat tedious—now that he saw a bed, he really was starting to feel drowsy.
But he was a bit of a germaphobe and refused to sleep in bedding used by soone else.
He walked into the bathroom and confird that the bathtub was clean.
Noticing that his hair was a bit ssy, Ming Po set the cara and flashlight down on the sink, angling the light to hit the mirror.
He pushed up his glasses, picked up an unopened disposable comb from the counter, and began to ticulously comb his hair.
Just then, catching a glimpse in the mirror, he suddenly saw a pale-skinned, shirtless man standing right behind him.
The man had appeared out of thin air, without any warning.
His face was twisted into a hideous grimace as he raised a club high in the air, bringing it down with vicious force straight toward the back of Ming Po's head!
Yet Ming Po simply took a light half-step to the side, cleanly evading the strike.
He spun around and planted a solid kick right into the man's stomach—it was a truly heavy blow. The man stumbled backward, clutching his gut as a garbled, guttural roar ripped from his throat.
But Ming Po had no intention of stopping.
He pulled the hamr from his fanny pack.
Gripping it tightly with both hands, he brought it down in a vicious, overhead swing—aid squarely at the back of the man's head!
—Thud!
A dull thwack rang out, and the man collapsed forward onto the floor.
Dark red, filthy blood splattered out, lightly staining Ming Po's clothes. That was probably the only damage the creature managed to inflict on him.
"Are you insane—"
Ming Po muttered in disbelief, imdiately following up with another crushing blow to the head—even though the thing had completely stopped moving.
Right after that, just to be safe—Ming Po brought the hamr down on its joints, making absolutely sure it wouldn't start crawling around with inverted limbs like so abnormal titan.
Like pounding mochi, he smashed away while muttering in a low voice, "Attacking —when I was empty-handed?"
"That was pretty—courageous of you."
Inside the bathroom, only the muffled thuds, the cracking of bones, and the wet, sticky squelches echoed continuously.
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