"Master, do you know who brought that guy in just now?" Ji Ruo suddenly raised his voice, interrupting
Elder Qingmu was slightly startled, "Who was it?"
"It was Junior Brother Yang Cha, he even arranged the accommodation at No. 31 Daozi." After a pause, Ji Ruo raised his hand, said solemnly, "I report this."
...
After another day of trepidation, it wasn’t until after 10 p.m. the next night that Yang Xiao, neatly dressed and masked, set off for the Contemplation Pavilion. This was his third match, scheduled for 11 p.m., third-class, third round, with 11 contestants advancing to the next round of four.
Previously, Yang Cha had leaked so insider information to him that among his opponents this ti, there was a particularly troubleso character, Prisoner No. 3.
This person had killed almost all his opponents in the previous two rounds, advancing alone, but Yang Xiao thought, he didn’t necessarily need to fear him; after all, if he was willing, he too had the chance to clear out all his teammates in two rounds.
Now accustod to the title of Evil Cultivator, that na no longer scared Yang Xiao. Other than a heart aligned with the righteous path, not a single piece of equipnt on him was without otherworldly traits: the horsetail whisk of the Little White-robed Buddha Mother, one of the three giants of the Black Buddha Mother Sect; the Soul-Capturing Mirror of the Wounded Door of the Yu Yuan Sect; the Torturing Life Saber of the Xiu Sect; these were only the items with known origins. As for his elder sister’s background, he still hadn’t figured it out.
Once he was fully prepared, accompanied by a strange sensation of weightlessness coming to an end, he tumbled into sothing soft. As the dizzying sensation before his eyes began to fade, he gradually discerned that he was in a room, lying on a large, soft bed.
A dim yellow light bulb was lit overhead, and everything around him was filled with a sense of bygone eras: an old-fashioned tea-colored glass coffee table, a cream-colored telephone on the bedside table, an old fabric sofa draped with white armrest covers, and a red-cased television set quietly displayed on the TV cabinet, its screen facing Yang Xiao on the bed.
In Yang Xiao’s mory, this was the decor style of at least 20, or even 30 years ago, and this place did not seem like a residential ho, but rather an apartnt.
Rising to approach the tightly closed curtains, he pulled back a corner, stealthily looking outside, to see dark clouds overhead and a storm brewing. The apartnt was on a high floor, probably around the 10th floor, and within sight, there were four other buildings with only a few rooms lit up.
Looking up, Yang Xiao saw a wire hanging overhead. The wire was stretched taut, its ends tied to nails driven into the wall, serving as a makeshift clothesline. But what shocked Yang Xiao were the clothes hanging on it—they were sowhat unusual.
There were leopard print bodysuits, pink G-strings, and many undergarnts that looked very crudely made, but whose design styles were extrely avant-garde and bold. Most importantly, Yang Xiao realized that these clothes were designed for n, aning this was a man’s bedroom.
Moreover, he rummaged through the drawers and stumbled upon so indescribable tools, along with so lubricating grease.
After seeing these eye-watering items, Yang Xiao’s first reaction was actually fear. He worried that this place belonged to a ghost with indescribable fetishes, who killed victims with these things.
It was all too horrifying; after imagining so of those dreadful scenes, Yang Xiao couldn’t help but shiver. He would rather take so risks and escape from this place first.
After a brief scrutiny, confirming that he was the only person in the room, he quickly walked to the room’s door, planning to open it and make his escape. But as soon as he opened the door, he saw a man in a police uniform standing outside, staring at him with a stern face.
There were two doors in this room, an old-fashioned internal wooden door and an external tal door with the top third featuring bars, through which one could see people’s heads and upper bodies outside. Seeing the door open, the policeman frowned slightly, demanding, "Why didn’t you answer when you’re at ho?"
"I... I was sleeping, sorry officer." Yang Xiao had just arrived in this world and was still unfamiliar with the situation, but he could tell from the man’s expression that there was a serious problem, "What... Do you need sothing?"
"Have you been at ho recently?" The officer took out a notebook and a ballpoint pen.
"Yes, I... I haven’t been feeling well lately, I’ve been sleeping most of the ti," Yang Xiao tried to fend off.
"Have you heard any strange noises at night recently?" The officer raised his head, looking at him with eyes that mingled scrutiny with probing, seemingly in doubt.
"What kind of noises are you referring to?" Yang Xiao asked curiously.
"Bang, bang, bang!" Picking up his notebook, the officer demonstrated it for Yang Xiao as if chopping at with a kitchen knife while making the sound effects with his mouth. However, those sounds were cold and hard, sending shivers down Yang Xiao’s spine. His first thought was that it was the sound of chopping up a human body.
"Have you heard them?" the officer pressed.
"No... no, I... I’ve been dizzy from the dication I’m taking, and I fall asleep early every night, not waking up until morning."
After jotting down Yang Xiao’s response, the officer put away his notebook, gestured towards the inside of the apartnt, and asked very casually, "Do you mind if I co in for a chat?"
As soon as he spoke of entering, Yang Xiao instantly beca vigilant. Setting aside the potential issue with the officer’s identity, the main concern was the strange items in his room. Once the police took notice, he feared there would be trouble, so he tried to stall: "Could I... see your identification, officer?"
"Of course." The officer took out his ID from the pocket of his uniform jacket, opened it, and showed it to Yang Xiao. It had the man’s photo and badge number. Though the officer only showed it briefly, Yang Xiao still managed to morize the man’s badge number, which wasn’t difficult for him.
"Officer, my place is quite ssy. Do you think we could talk outside? Just give a few minutes," Yang Xiao asked.
Hearing this, the man nodded, "Alright, I’ll wait for you downstairs. I only have a few questions, and it won’t take up too much of your ti."
After the officer left, his footsteps gradually faded, followed by the sound of the elevator in operation. One could imagine that the elevator was very old, making "squeak squeak" noises as it moved up and down.
Yang Xiao couldn’t shake the feeling that the timing of the officer’s appearance was too coincidental, as if he had been waiting just outside his door. Yet, he couldn’t outright reject him, as he was unable to determine whether the officer was a ghost or a key figure related to the clues.
However... recalling the appearance of the officer, sothing felt off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it at the mont.
He closed the door and hurried to the old telephone to make a call, dialing the ergency number directly. The phone connected quickly, and on the other end was a woman with a swift, sowhat cold voice. Getting right to the point, Yang Xiao asked if the police station had sent an officer to his door and gave the na and badge number provided. The person on the other line asked him to wait and not to hang up.
After about half a minute of verification, the call handler confird that the police had indeed dispatched an officer nad Chen to East Asia Mansion, building number 1, to inquire about certain matters. As for the specifics, the person was not willing to disclose, citing discipline.
After hanging up, Yang Xiao sat on the edge of his bed and took a deep breath. Suddenly, a flash of light sped past his window, followed seconds later by a clap of thunder. It was this thunder that jolted Yang Xiao awake. He realized what had seed strange about the man from the first glance. He was too clean, not a trace of rain on him. How had he managed to co in such heavy rain without wearing a raincoat or carrying an umbrella?
According to his previous understanding of the surroundings, this decades-old, old-fashioned apartnt didn’t seem like it would have an underground parking garage.
All of a sudden, Yang Xiao’s gaze froze. He noticed that the power light on the right side of the landline phone was off. It was a very small light bulb, easy to overlook if one didn’t pay close attention. He reached out and felt for the power cord at the back of the phone, finding that the line extended towards the gap behind the nightstand.
Curious, he moved the nightstand aside, and the next second, a severed telephone cord dangled down before Yang Xiao’s horrified eyes.
"Ding-a-ling—ling—ling—"
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