The male tourist from Xinhai hung his head low, his palm subtly swiveling toward his surroundings, as if letting the eyeball embedded in the wound on his palm survey the scene around him.
Cursed black fog drifted in all directions. Blood rain steeped in hatred and killing intent dripped from the ceiling. Ghostly faces wailed and begged for mercy everywhere, desperate to flee. The place was nothing short of an apocalyptic hellscape.
"If it's really as you've guessed, and all the ghosts willingly stayed in the haunted house, then why are the tormented souls trapped in that black fog crying and screaming to get out?"
"My guess is that this haunted house is using the Red Dresses to enslave obsessions and vengeful spirits. He's bartering visitors' souls as chips in trades with the Red Dresses, letting them feed on those visitors' seven emotions and six desires. Once the Red Dresses are placated, he uses them to violently suppress the lesser ghosts through brute force. A despicable method — even worse than ours."
The eyebull in the man's palm wound rotated several times. It seemed to have already seen what it wanted to see. It retreated silently deep into the man's flesh, and the wound slowly sealed behind it, leaving only a thin, blood-oozing line.
"Why would the doctor think anyone could redeem a Red Dress? Monsters composed entirely of negative emotions — of resentment, agony, and despair — how could they possibly be redeemed? What they detest most is everything beautiful. What they love most is destroying everything beautiful."
The man raised his head, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. He gazed upon the chaotic Prenatal Ghost scene, his thin lips curving into a smile.
"Now THIS is what a ghost realm should look like. That boy from before is probably having the time of his life, reveling in the worst of human nature."
He gripped his girlfriend's hand as though leading a lifeless doll. Standing at the very back of the group, he watched the remaining steadfast tourists with an expression dripping with sympathy.
"Forty yuan for a ticket really isn't expensive, but this haunted house isn't after money — it's after the visitors' lives. When they leave, something else might have attached itself to them, and then they'll die in some kind of 'accident.' No one will connect their misfortune to a visit to a haunted house, and no one will file a report. This is exactly what the hospital used to do. Heh — the dragon slayer eventually becomes the dragon."
The male tourist from Xinhai seemed to have obtained the information he wanted. He began making his way out. This place made him deeply uncomfortable — he had to slip away before his cover was blown.
"I ventured into the tiger's den and obtained such vital information. The doctor should continue providing me with medicine, shouldn't he?" At this point, he was thinking only of himself. He had no intention whatsoever of warning the other tourists.
The couple's distance from the main group gradually widened. While Ma Feng and the others had all their attention fixed on Little Sun, the two turned and walked away without a word.
The black fog thickened further. The man's gaze swept across the faintly visible faces on the walls, and it was as though he were looking at his former self.
But there was not a shred of sympathy in his eyes — only a deep, concentrated disgust.
He quickened his pace. When the couple stepped out of the White Orphanage and onto Ghost Street, they gradually realized something was wrong.
The screaming faces in the black fog had vanished. Everything was eerily silent, as though something far more terrifying than any ghost lurked within the mist, too frightening even for the tormented, cursed faces to keep crying out.
"Have I been exposed?" The man pulled his girlfriend in front of him. He clawed at the wound on his palm with his fingernail, attempting to communicate with the eyeball.
But before he could rouse the eye, a figure emerged from the black fog.
The figure wore a tattered uniform stained with blood. His face bore light makeup that only enhanced his striking looks — though stare long enough and you'd realize that face looked no different from a corpse.
A wave of dread washed over the man. He tucked one hand behind his back and adjusted his expression, making himself look no different from an ordinary tourist.
"Honey, be careful," he said, putting on a show of protecting his girlfriend. In reality, he was using her as a human shield. Along his arm, segments of severed black thread were wriggling like worms into the woman's body.
The figure in the black fog finally approached them. When the man saw that face clearly, he felt a jolt of panic. To mask his unease, he spoke first: "Why is the boss himself coming out to work? Does a haunted house as famous as yours really need more hands?"
"We don't lack employees, but 'hands' — literal ones — are indeed quite scarce." Chen Ge stood before the couple. The woman's expression was no longer vacant; she clung to the man's arm, looking genuinely frightened. "It seems you two have made up. A haunted house offers a kind of fear you can't find anywhere else. When you face danger together, that's the truest test of whether someone is worth relying on. So — if you love him, bring him to the haunted house."
Chen Ge smiled, revealing a row of clean, white teeth. He flipped open the comic book in his hand and strolled past the couple as though it were the most casual thing in the world.
The man's heartbeat hammered faster and faster — until Chen Ge passed shoulder to shoulder with him.
His heart sank back into his chest. His gaze turned dark once more. He didn't know why he'd been so afraid of Chen Ge. He didn't dare express it openly, but inside, he cursed Chen Ge silently.
He took a step forward, ready to keep moving, when his palm suddenly began gushing blood.
The eyeball hidden inside the wound was spinning wildly, as if urging him to flee immediately.
The man hadn't yet grasped what was happening when Chen Ge, who had just walked past him, suddenly stopped. He turned around and fixed the man with a smile.
"Facing danger is the truest test of whether someone is worth relying on. Today — did you face danger?"
The words came out in a deranged tone, accompanied by a terrifying smile. The moment Chen Ge finished speaking, vengeful spirits and Red Dresses stepped out of the black fog one after another.
Only then did the man finally understand. Chen Ge had kept all his ghosts hidden inside the comic book. When he walked past just now, he'd been "scattering" them the whole way, planting several vengeful spirits and Red Dresses all around him.
The man had focused every ounce of his attention on Chen Ge. It was only now that he realized what had happened.
This guy was truly wicked!
The man looked down at his palm, his eyes pleading for help. But to his shock, the moment he glanced at his palm, the eyeball inside it burst open on its own.
Blood streamed from the wound. The man stood frozen for a moment before it finally hit him — he had been abandoned.
The hospital had gotten the information it wanted. To avoid exposing more of its secrets, it had deliberately shattered the eyeball, severing the trail.
The ruthlessness and decisiveness of it were staggering. It was possible the entire thing had been planned from the start.
With the eyeball destroyed, the man had lost his lifeline. His escape route was cut off. Cold sweat beaded ceaselessly on his forehead.
"What do I do?"
Surrounded by multiple Red Dresses and vengeful spirits — this was a level of "hospitality" he simply couldn't afford.
The eyeball had abandoned him. Now his only option was to save himself.
A direct fight was a death sentence. He knew Chen Ge was protected by a fearsome deity.
His only chance of survival was to leverage his identity as a tourist. Many people had seen him enter the haunted house. The cameras had captured him. The other visitors all knew he existed.