The sound of sloshing mud drew closer and closer.
A light appeared in the darkness, and a figure in white stepped out from the corridor—the one that hadn't been painted with white lacquer.
The person was wearing a white lab coat, a thick surgical mask, and had a flashlight tucked under one arm. Both hands were gripping two large red buckets.
He moved fast. Viscous liquid kept sloshing over the rims of the buckets as he walked.
As he drew nearer, a sharp, acrid smell hit Chen Ge's nose.
It wasn't pure formaldehyde. Mixed in was something far more foul.
"That... looks like a living person."
Chen Ge didn't lower his hammer. His eyes stayed locked on the figure. "Staff from the school? Then why would he be down in the underground morgue at ten at night?"
The newcomer wore an ill-fitting white coat. He had a sturdy build, looked strong, wore rubber gloves, and was still walking briskly despite the two heavy buckets.
"What's this guy up to? Why is he heading deeper into the morgue?"
The man was extremely suspicious. He looked the part of school staff, but the timing of his appearance and what he was doing didn't add up.
After a brief moment of deliberation, Chen Ge gave up trying to figure it out. He had too few leads and decided on a more direct approach.
"If he comes into this room, I'll have a nice chat with him. If he doesn't, I'll follow him from behind and keep my distance—no need to spook anyone."
It was probably a personality trait, but Chen Ge rarely liked to force things. He gave the man a choice, so that even if it turned out to be a misunderstanding, he wouldn't feel too bad about it.
Gripping the hammer handle tight, Chen Ge held his breath.
The footsteps grew louder. More liquid sloshed out of the buckets. The man was frowning, his mood clearly sour.
He kept his head down and walked straight ahead. As he passed the medium-sized morgue chamber where Chen Ge was hiding, he glanced over and noticed the door had been pushed open.
"Weren't this door closed when I left? Who opened it? Did Li Xu come in too?" A man's voice came from behind the mask. He stopped and looked around, muttering a curse under his breath.
The man had a terrible temper. He set the buckets down, and his rubber-gloved hand reached for the morgue door.
Just as his fingers touched the handle and he was about to step inside, another man's voice echoed from the junction—down the pedestrian corridor.
"Wei-ge! You done yet? Why's it taking so long today?" A short, skinny, dark-skinned man came running in with a flashlight.
"There's more to deal with today." The man called Wei-ge didn't enter the room. He pulled his hand back and looked at the skinny man with suspicion. "What are you doing in here? Didn't I tell you to keep the security guard occupied? If they come over here, we're going to have a hard time explaining ourselves."