Ming Po leaned his head closer to the cara and said nonchalantly, "It's nothing, guys.
"Just a little ghost that attacked . It's already taken care of.
"Can I exorcise ghosts? Yes, of course I can. Your host can do anything. Why didn't Fox know about this? Because I kept a trump card up my sleeve, you see."
Ming Po talked to himself as he picked up the video cara.
He angled the lens away from the blood on the floor, calmly stepping around the man who was still pinned to the floor, gurgling and trying to growl.
He was a bit in the way.
Ming Po narrowed his eyes and glanced back at him.
Maybe he should just smash his head to pieces and be done with it.
As if hearing Ming Po's inner thoughts, the pale man suddenly went dead silent.
Ming Po stood quietly by the doorway, staring back at the pale man for three seconds.
Seeing that the man neither moved nor made another sound, he left the bathroom satisfied.
"Look, guys. I found this."
Ming Po didn't ntion the growl, instead waving a phone in front of the cara. "This is a real antique. So of you in the stream might even be younger than this thing.
"Can it turn on? I tried turning it on just now, but the battery died almost instantly.
"A charger? A standard charger definitely won't work. This kind of phone needs a universal charger—have you guys ever seen a universal charger? You have to take the battery out and put it into the charger to power it up..."
Ming Po couldn't see the live chat at all; he was simply anticipating what they might ask and talking to himself.
He scanned his surroundings, activating the active effect of his Title once again.
Before his brain could even cool down, it overloaded once more. The surrounding space inverted into a canvas of black background and white lines.
At this mont, Ming Po noticed that the wardrobe in the room was highlighted.
Oddly enough, Ming Po was certain that he had seen the wardrobe when he first activated the Title's effect. After all, it was directly opposite the bathroom, and he could see it from inside.
It hadn't been highlighted back then.
Why was it highlighted now?
Ming Po's brain instantly deduced the answer.
"I see... It's a puzzle."
The suicide note had ntioned the "wardrobe."
And after reading the suicide note, Ming Po had gathered more information.
Consequently, more prompts for "hidden items" began to appear.
Ming Po walked over, opened the wardrobe, and looked straight down.
Sure enough.
The hidden compartnt at the bottom of the wardrobe was glowing with a bright highlight.
He pried open the wooden panel and discovered it was an old-fashioned safe.
"Look at this, guys..."
Ming Po lowered his voice. "Did you know? A lot of old-fashioned hotels have these. Word has it that back when they were grading hotels for five stars, they had to have one to pass inspection. Modern travelers barely use them, so now they just hide them away."
He didn't actually know if that was true.
It was just sothing he had overheard his parents chatting about a long ti ago.
Back then, his parents still ca ho occasionally, unlike now, where they never ca ho at all.
Ming Po deactivated the active effect of his Title once more.
This ti, he felt a visible burden.
The exhaustion was three or four tis stronger than before. If the first ti felt like completing a single exam paper, this felt like finishing four of them back-to-back.
Furthermore, Ming Po felt his head burning hot.
Though he wasn't looking in a mirror, he was certain his face must be flushed completely red right now.
He could even feel the tips of his ears burning.
—It seed activating it twice in a short window was his limit.
Did he at least need to wait for his brain to cool down...?
Ming Po felt a bit of regret.
This Title was incredibly useful, saving a massive amount of ti and providing plenty of information.
The restrictions were just a bit too severe. If he could keep this information-gathering state active permanently, the value of this Title would be staggering—it could even scan for hostile units and filter out irrelevant noise.
Ming Po placed the video cara on the top shelf of the wardrobe, pointing it behind him.
Then, he bent down and pulled the safe out.
It was a small safe.
The space inside could hold two burgers at most—it couldn't even fit a family bucket.
It didn't look like it could hold much, and Ming Po could even pick it straight up.
To put it bluntly, when a safe could simply be picked up, it had already lost most of its purpose.
At that point, it wasn't a safe, but a burglar's jackpot.
"As for the password..."
Ming Po chuckled. "I have a pretty good idea."
Since this thing was in the location ntioned in the suicide note, it was highly likely that the password was related to the note as well.
Even though he had only glanced at it for about four or five seconds, Ming Po had already morized the suicide note's entire contents.
He had found sothing slightly odd at the ti.
Mainly, the numbers didn't seem quite right.
For a gambling addict with a net worth of five million, would he really only borrow five hundred thousand?
Setting aside the house worth three hundred and fifty thousand—shouldn't a gold watch be the very first thing to go?
Moreover, there was another anomaly.
Why were the subsequent numbers written in Arabic nurals, while the five million was written in Chinese characters?
"500,000... 350,000... 2..."
Ming Po murmured under his breath, reaching out and turning the chanical dial on the safe fifty ticks to the right, thirty-five ticks to the left, and two ticks to the right.
With a crisp click, the safe popped open.
But right before that happened.
In the bathroom behind Ming Po, the man had already stumbled back to his feet.
A screwdriver was plunged into one of his eyes, and a large portion of his head was shattered. He looked exactly like a zombie out of a horror film.
In the dim light, only the video cara could capture his incredibly slow, silent approach.
Yet Ming Po remained focused on unlocking the safe, seemingly oblivious to it all.
By the ti Ming Po opened the safe, breathed a sigh of relief, and stood up, the man was already standing right behind him.
"Hold on a mont, guys."
Ming Po smiled as he leaned into the cara lens, blocking out the pale man who was now a re two steps away. "I have so business to attend to. I'll be right back."
With that, he turned the cara ninety degrees, pointing the lens at the back wall of the wardrobe.
Imdiately afterward, Ming Po's voice echoed through gritted teeth.
"Are you done yet—"
Right after that ca the thuds of a hamr and a screwdriver hitting the floor.
Squelching noises rang out continuously. Then ca a barrage of heavy impacts that sounded exactly like a ho renovation, thumping and banging without pause.
About ten minutes later, Ming Po reappeared in front of the cara.
His shirt was soaked crimson with blood.
However, his face was completely clean, and his hair had been neatly combed back into place.
"Just went to use the restroom, guys."
His smile was gentle as he picked up the cara and panned it around the floor of the room. "Look, there's nothing here. We didn't hear the door open, and we didn't see anyone leave, right?"
Only a blood-stained hamr and screwdriver lay quietly on the floor.
Right next to them, a white bath towel had been thrown down in a very careless attempt to cover the floor.
"Co on, guys. The safe is open. Let's see what's inside..."
Ming Po said, lowering the cara lens.
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