Chapter 1: Strange Object

Thick clouds hung over the city, distant collapsed and broken skyscrapers still leaned precariously, and the murky air, faintly stinking of foul odor, filled every corner; the evening sun always carried a strange crimson hue.

Like other places, Tianchang City was a wounded city.

Li Yi, just finished his part-time job, now walked through the desolate, dilapidated streets of the old district, carrying his belongings, skillfully avoiding the potholes filled with stagnant water, then quickly slipped into an alley.

The alley branched in all directions, connecting various parts of the old district; taking this shortcut saved considerable time.

“Cough! Cough!”

As Li Yi walked alone, he suddenly caught a stench of decay, forcing him to cough twice, but he dared not pause, only quickening his pace to rapidly distance himself from the area reeking of rot.

For he knew that smell was formed by corpses decomposing after death.

The lowest class in the city were like rats in sewers; merely sustaining ordinary life was already a struggle, and even if they died, they could only rot quietly in dark corners, crawling with maggots, until the stench became unbearable and sanitation teams finally discovered and cleared them.

After all, the world had changed; even in well-ordered cities, the death rate remained stubbornly high.

“I wonder how my luck will be this time—can I survive this?”

At only twenty years old, Li Yi sighed helplessly in his heart, his eyes revealing a trace of confusion and exhaustion, yet his gaze quickly hardened, his steps faster than usual.

Following a memory of an address, he passed through the alley and arrived at a small residential complex several decades old.

The complex was small, only four buildings—a common sight in the old district.

Though the old district’s environment was poor, at least it was safer than other areas, less prone to accidents; thus, despite its dilapidated and desolate appearance, it housed many people, who, like ants, gnawed at everything the city offered, barely clinging to life—Li Yi was one of them.

Wangmen Residential Complex.

“Yes, this is it.” Li Yi found the address.

But after entering the complex, he noticed a crowd gathered in the central open space; among them, he even spotted an investigator.

“Could something have happened?” His expression shifted slightly, and he curiously edged closer.

“I heard the resident of Building 4, Unit 701 died—died horribly, blood streamed all the way down the stairwell. This definitely wasn’t natural death; probably some special accident, otherwise investigators wouldn’t come to this dump.”

“Who lived in 701? I don’t remember anyone. Does anyone know?”

“That woman with the big curls, dressed flashy.”

“Oh, now you mention it—I remember. Her name was Liu Li, thirty-two, unmarried… big chest.”

“Huh?”

Hearing this, many nearby people stared at him in surprise.

He was a middle-aged man in his thirties, shaking his head with an air of deep lament.

At that moment, an investigator descended from the stairwell of Building 4, followed by several sanitation workers carrying a body bag—inside, presumably, was Liu Li’s corpse.

“What’s the situation upstairs?” The lead investigator was Wang Jian, responsible for this old district.

Wang Jian, plain-looking but only in his twenties, had exceptionally sharp eyes that seemed to glow faintly even in dim light, inducing an inexplicable sense of dread.

“Captain Wang, the corpse was cut into over a dozen pieces—the scene was extremely bloody. But based on current findings, the cause of death appears to be… suicide.” Another investigator stepped forward, his expression grave, whispering details from Unit 701.

Wang Jian nodded, his face calm—as if such scenes were routine; he had encountered stranger things.

“Any other clues?”

Another investigator said: “The resident opposite Unit 701 claims to have seen something.”

He gestured, and a young man around twenty-five was brought forward.

“I’m Investigator Wang Jian. Tell us, what did you see in Unit 701?” Wang Jian asked.

The young man, visibly nervous, said: “I—I saw a person enter Unit 701, one after another, last night.”

“One after another?” Wang Jian frowned slightly: “Are you mocking me?”

“No, absolutely not—the person really did enter one after another,” the young man insisted firmly.

Wang Jian’s face darkened; he suddenly grabbed the young man’s throat with his palm, stared coldly into his pupils, then tossed him aside: “Another one gone mad. Take him away.”

“Yes.”

The young man immediately struggled: “No, I’m not mad! I’m not mad! Someone really did enter Unit 701 one after another—that person is the killer! She didn’t kill herself! I’m not crazy! I was practicing against my door last night—I saw it clearly!”

But his colleagues said nothing, dragging him out of the complex.

The middle-aged man watching the scene shouted: “If Liu Li’s body could be carried out one piece at a time, why couldn’t the killer enter one piece at a time? Why do investigators say he’s mad?”

“He’s abnormal. Are you normal?” Wang Jian glanced at him: “Want to be taken away too?”

The middle-aged man immediately spat toward the young man’s direction: “That madman should be taken away! I must’ve been influenced by him—this lunatic must never be brought back. Maybe he’s the one who killed Liu Li.”

“I said it: Liu Li committed suicide. This case is closed,” Wang Jian repeated.

“Looks like these suicide cases here are just coincidences—nothing to do with what I need to do.”

Li Yi, watching silently, kept quiet. He simply picked up his bag and walked away from the crowd toward Building 1. This had nothing to do with him—he was here only to earn money, not to invite unnecessary trouble.

“Wangmen Residential Complex, Building 1, Unit 201.”

Li Yi took a shallow breath, arrived at the unfamiliar address, and knocked on the old door.

Thud-thud-thud!

The muffled sound echoed through the dim corridor; all around was silent.

After a long pause.

The old door opened, yellowish light spilled out, accompanied by a voice.

“Come in.” The voice was deep.

Li Yi entered, visibly tense.

The living room was sparsely furnished: a sofa, a few wooden chairs, bedroom doors on both sides tightly shut. Under the yellowish light, the space felt claustrophobic.

“Friend, don’t stare—you’re late. You’re the last one. We’ve all been waiting for you.” On the sofa sat several people, men and women; the speaker was a young man in a hoodie.

Li Yi said nothing, only stared at the person seated across from him.

That person was shrouded in the shadow of the light; he slowly raised his head, his eyes unusually bright, shimmering with a faint glow, as if containing some special power—unbearable to meet directly.

“I’m Lao Ya. You’re Li Yi, right? Young. You look barely twenty. Tell me—why take this dangerous job?”

Li Yi steadied himself, then said seriously: “I need money.”

The hoodie-clad man on the sofa chuckled: “Obviously. Who here takes dangerous jobs if they don’t need money? These days, lives are worthless—people fight to sell theirs.”

Li Yi ignored him, continuing: “My parents are Silent Ones. They’ve been comatose for six years.”

“Both your parents are Silent Ones? Surviving six years means you had two medical pods. Even a secondhand pod costs over a million. You don’t look poor.” Lao Ya’s voice turned cold: “Give me a reasonable explanation. Don’t play games.”

“The pods broke. Repair costs fifty thousand. I can’t afford it. I saw a post in a group offering a job that pays a hundred thousand upon completion, so I came to try my luck.” Li Yi’s heart tightened as he explained again.

Perhaps he believed Li Yi—or saw the anxiety and desperation in his eyes—Lao Ya’s tone softened, and he gave a quiet laugh: “Supporting two Silent Ones for six years—even with savings, you’d be drained. Then the pods break. You’re desperate for cash. Without pods, Silent Ones won’t last thirty days. You’re trying to fight for your parents. Good. That’s a valid reason. Sit down.”

Li Yi finally exhaled, found a stool beside the sofa, and sat.

“The last person has arrived. If anyone wants to leave now, go—no one will stop you. In ten seconds, I’ll begin explaining the mission.” Lao Ya’s bright eyes held a hint of threat.

Clearly, he meant: if you don’t leave now, you can’t back out later.

In the dim living room, everyone fell silent.

Seconds ticked by.

Not a single person left.

“Good. It seems you all have reasons to risk your lives. Then I’ll officially begin the mission.” Lao Ya stood.

Simultaneously, the closed bedroom door opened. A man in a suit stepped out, locked the front door, then stood like a wall at the entrance, preventing anyone from escaping.

“Lao Ya, stop wasting time. Just tell us what we’re doing. We can’t handle anything too hard—we’re here to earn money, not to die. And we’re all ordinary people, no cultivation. Our capabilities are limited.” The hoodie man grinned, unfazed.

Lao Ya glanced at him: “Keep quiet.”

The hoodie man shrugged, unconcerned.

Those willing to risk their lives for money had nothing to fear.

The others remained silent, not interrupting Lao Ya.

Li Yi listened quietly, hoping the mission wouldn’t be too deadly—he wanted to return alive.

Seeing everyone quiet, Lao Ya spoke seriously: “Ten days ago, a building in the Ruined District showed anomalies. Our team entered to investigate and suffered casualties—several died. Only two ordinary people without cultivation returned alive—one went mad, the other severely injured, still in hospital, barely clinging to half a life.”

“Second attempt: I went back with my partner. My partner didn’t make it. Only I escaped by luck.”

“But from both expeditions, I obtained two key pieces of information. First: that building likely contains a Strange Object.”

At this, everyone’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Strange Object? Impossible? The Ruined District has been searched countless times—how could a Strange Object still be there?” The hoodie man leapt to his feet, breathing heavily.

Strange Object.

After the Skyfall Event, artifacts from another world, said to possess mythic, supernatural powers.

Each Strange Object was priceless.

Every nation on Earth forcibly reclaimed every Strange Object, sparking countless wars over them.

If a commoner voluntarily surrendered a Strange Object, the cash reward alone was at least one billion—plus unconditional admission to the Golden Academy, lifetime immunity from expulsion, and bonus perks like a villa in a Safe Zone and honorary status.

Yet even with such rewards, only two voluntary surrenders had occurred domestically.

Because a Strange Object didn’t just grant supernatural power—it allowed ordinary people to defy fate, ascending a cultivation path rivaling geniuses.

With a Strange Object for months, one could transcend humanity; with years, even the state would bow to you.

“Don’t spin fairy tales,” said a woman in a strap dress, her figure alluring but her lips curled in disdain. “I don’t believe a Strange Object exists in the old district. One Strange Object affects at least five kilometers. If something that big were active here, do you think investigators would be blind?”

Her words cooled the shock in others.

“She’s right. Ten thousand yuan to send people hunting for a priceless Strange Object? That sounds absurd. If such a thing existed here, this old district would already be sealed off.”

Li Yi and the others remained silent, watching.

Lao Ya’s voice remained low: “Strange Objects have tiers. There are complete ones and incomplete ones. The top-tier ones are beyond our reach—but with luck, you might find an incomplete one, or even fragments.”

“Your five-person mission is simple: enter that building, find the object. Even if you can’t retrieve it, just confirm its location—I’ll pay you ten thousand. If you bring it back, I’ll give you two million each.”

“That’s all? You want us to risk our lives for that?” The hoodie man grinned suddenly.

“What do you mean? Want to back out?” Lao Ya said.

“No, I mean you need to pay more,” the man in the hoodie said, staring at him.

“Don’t be greedy,” Lao Ya said coldly. “You might earn the money, but not live to spend it.” At that moment, his eyes glowed faintly, like a beast lurking in the night.

The hoodie man was not afraid. “Dare you strike? Kill me, and this job falls apart. If investigators come, you’ll suffer the greatest losses. Our worthless lives mean nothing—but you? Your future is bright. You still have a chance to encounter strange artifacts. To throw it all away for a few nobodies? Not worth it.”

He turned to Li Yi and the others. “I’m fighting for all your interests. Don’t you have anything to say?”

The woman in the strap dress spoke immediately. “This mission is dangerous. I demand half the payment upfront. Otherwise, I won’t go. How do I know you won’t renege afterward?”

Clearly, the mention of an artifact had everyone rushing to raise their price.

Li Yi also refused to back down. “I agree the pay is too low. Pay us fifty thousand upfront as a deposit. If you find what you want, pay another hundred thousand. As for retrieving it—we ordinary folks know our limits. We’re not capable.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a muscular man with a shaved head and square face rose from the sofa beside him. He stood nearly two meters tall, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. Though an ordinary man, he radiated an unmistakable air of danger.

“You little shit,” the man growled. “You came to me. Whether you want me to do it or not, I’m taking the money. If you don’t pay, I’ll crush your skull with one punch.”

The last man was a thin, middle-aged man wearing glasses. He had remained silent until now. “Lao Ya? Give me all the money for these four. I’ll handle it. But if you get what you want, I take thirty percent.”

“...” Lao Ya fell silent.

After a long pause, he spoke in a low voice. “I see now. You’re all geniuses—money over life. If this weren’t a safe zone, I’d kill you all right here.”

The hoodie man still grinned. The strap-dress woman rolled her eyes dismissively. The towering man snorted in contempt. The glasses-wearer lowered his head slightly, adjusted his frames, and smiled faintly—strangely.

Only Li Yi seemed relatively calm, though a twitch in his eyelid betrayed his unease.

Seeing no one budged, Lao Ya weighed his options briefly—and chose to compromise. Finding another group would be troublesome, and he didn’t want to risk delays. If word leaked, the situation would spiral beyond his control.

“Fine. As Li Yi said: fifty thousand upfront, another hundred thousand upon success. No more bargaining. It’s settled.”

The others fell silent for a moment—then all accepted the terms.

“You haven’t told us the second key detail,” the hoodie man asked again.

Lao Ya said: “The second key detail: inside that building, ordinary people face less danger. Those of us who’ve begun cultivation are the ones who attract danger. That’s why I came to you. Stop wasting time. Leave now.”

He gestured to the guards at the door, who opened it.

“I have one more question,” Li Yi said.

“Ask quickly,” Lao Ya said coldly.

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“What exactly is dangerous in that place?” Li Yi said. “Even you cultivators can’t handle it. This matters—we need to know what we’re walking into.”

“That building... is haunted,” Lao Ya said, then stepped out of the room.

Ghost?

Everyone froze. Beneath the yellowed light, a chilling dread crept over their hearts.