Chapter 57

"Square layout, moderate area. Fully lit design, north-south ventilation. Private bathroom, luxury all to yourself."

Li Cheng examined the room's structure, exclaiming with a magnetic, emotive voice, as if reciting a brainwashing elevator ad.

In the real world, Yinxing's housing prices remained sky-high, land resources scarce, spawning bizarre unit layouts. And every unscrupulous real estate agent lied with eyes wide open.

A nine-story building without an elevator was called "a community full of fitness spirit, where everyone loves exercise"; adjacent to a psychiatric hospital was called "abundant medical resources"; even a layout where the bedroom door faced the bathroom door was marketed as "elder-friendly design, investment for the future."

So what it really meant was: "Hey, guess what? In old Yinxing, you wake up every morning and it's either piss or shit—nothing else."

By that logic, this haunted house where N people had died could also be called "lively home, strong sense of companionship—even if you eat New Year's Eve dinner alone, you won't feel lonely."

The wall clock was frozen at 5 p. m., the phone showed no signal, and the lights wouldn't turn on.

Li Cheng swept the kitchen, bedroom, and living room with his flashlight, finding nothing unusual.

Just as his hand touched the bathroom door handle, static crackled through his Bluetooth earpiece, followed by Jingzhe Xiazhi's voice.

"Hello, can you hear me? It's me," Jingzhe Xiazhi's voice said urgently: "Don't go in. It's dangerous inside."

"Huh? Communication restored?"

Li Cheng released the door handle, stepped back half a pace, and noticed a faint white light outside the living room window—like a drone's indicator light. "How's it going over there?"

"Fine," Jingzhe Xiazhi's voice replied. "You can't see it, but I can see hair growing out of the floorboards, spreading toward you."

Hair?

Li Cheng swept his flashlight around but saw no hair. Was this an illusion?

He narrowed his eyes, rummaged through his backpack, and pulled out a SCAR assault rifle. He fired a burst at the floor—each bullet had been blessed in a temple and theoretically possessed exorcism properties.

"Now?"

"No effect. The hair's still growing," Jingzhe Xiazhi's voice said. "No time to explain—hurry to the tatami room. It's still safe for now."

"Understood."

Li Cheng, unable to see the hair, stowed the rifle, extended his mantis-arm bone blade, flipped upside down, plunged the blade into the floor, and walked backward on his hands, supporting his weight.

Just outside the tatami room door, a brilliant light pierced through the thin paper door into the living room.

Jingzhe Xiazhi's voice came through the Bluetooth earpiece: "I'm lighting the way for you. Follow the light."

While walking upside down, Li Cheng quipped: "By the way, did you watch Xiaomi's launch tonight? Lei Jun's really gone full delusional—selling a phone for over 200,000? Way pricier than Huawei, Apple, Samsung."

"?"

The voice on the Bluetooth earpiece paused, as if unsure how to respond, and repeated: "I'm lighting the way for you. Follow the light."

"You haven't answered my question. What phone are you using now? Nokia or BlackBerry?"

Li Cheng said cheerfully: "Speaking of that, I remember once flying through an American airport."

It was some year in the 2000s, sweltering hot. I wore a headscarf and long robe, carried too many digital devices, so I modified my tactical vest with extra power banks and charging cables—all controlled by a single red button that emitted a beeping sound when pressed."

"But I don't know why, I got tackled by security the moment I entered the airport."

"I'm lighting the way."

"Stop with the light already, sis."

Li Cheng blew a whistle, removed the left Bluetooth earpiece: "I quietly took out the battery on this side—but it's still playing sound."

That meant the voice on the Bluetooth earpiece wasn't the real Jingzhe Xiazhi.

"."

The room fell deathly silent. With a loud bang, the paper sliding door to the tatami room—always trying to lure Li Cheng inside—burst open, revealing what lay within.

There was no drone indicator light at all. The so-called light was a colossal, enormous eyeball.

A vast, bloodless, pale woman's face pressed flat against the floor-to-ceiling window, eyes filled with venomous hatred, staring fixedly at Li Cheng outside the door.

Judging by her appearance, she was the late mistress of the Fujita family, brutally beheaded twenty-five years ago.

"Sis, your face is a bit big, but your bone structure's good—you'd look amazing if you lost weight."

Li Cheng complimented her, pushed off the floor with both arms, stood upright, and pulled a rifle from his backpack.

Bang!

The giant woman's face shattered the window glass and lunged into the room, hurtling toward Li Cheng.

He pulled the trigger, unleashing a torrent of fire. The blessed bullets struck her face, spewing black smoke—though they didn't kill her, they successfully slowed her advance.

'The Bluetooth voice came just as I was about to reach the bathroom. That means whatever's in this house doesn't want me going in there.'

Thinking this, Li Cheng kept up suppressing fire, retreated to the bathroom door, and kicked open the wooden door.

Inside the cramped bathroom stood a shower and a bathtub. Two empty red gasoline cans and a lighter lay discarded beside the tub. The tub was filled to the brim with opaque black water.

In the center of the black water, the tip of a foil-paper hat protruded.

Could it be…

Li Cheng extended his ant-needle hairs, plunged his hand into the black water, and yanked out a living person.

Ishikawa Kenichi—the long-missing folklorist—was still alive. He wore the same foil-paper coat, but his face and body were badly burned, unconscious.

Li Cheng's mind flashed with countless theories.

Had he tried to burn down the house with the gasoline cans, failed, burned himself, and survived due to the Fujita mansion's time-stopping effect?

Before he could think further, the woman's face lunged again—and from every corner of the room, thick black hair sprouted rapidly, weaving into a dense net.

Clang!

Li Cheng slapped a talisman onto his mantis-arm bone blade, slashed through the hair with one hand, and with the other, grabbed Ishikawa Kenichi's collar, hauling him clear of the face, leaping through the shattered window of the tatami room, and landing outside.

As soon as he hit the ground, starlight, moonlight, and streetlights returned to normal. Jingzhe Xiazhi stood before the mansion gate and shouted: "Where's Duizhan Qibing?"

"Still inside."

Li Cheng tossed Ishikawa Kenichi to her, turned, and saw Duizhan Qibing's silhouette on the second-floor balcony—inside the glass.

He held up a circular shield made of green data, barely blocking a vengeful ghost's cleaver, retreating into the room's corner.

"Use this!"

Jingzhe Xiazhi shouted, tossing a roll of tape and a round, heavy object into Li Cheng's arms.

【Item Name: Relic Incense Ash Bomb】

【Type: Consumable Item】

【Quality: Fine】

【Effect: Offering of Incense and Worship. Detonates three seconds after the pin is pulled, producing a forward energy-attribute shockwave with a diameter of twenty meters】

【Cost: 50 Spirit Power】

【Cooldown: None】

【Usage Requirement: Strength attribute greater than or equal to 6】

【Note: "Once a person gets on in years, they need to supplement iron, zinc, and copper." In order to boost the monastery's relic output rate, the young, newly appointed abbot decided to add extra heavy metals to the daily vegetarian meals of his master, martial uncles, martial uncles, and martial ancestors】

Li Cheng forced his gaze away from that note, which was riddled with things to complain about, understood what Jingzhe Xiazhi meant, immediately stamped his foot against the ground, grabbed the eaves and climbed up to the second floor, pulled the pin from the round bomb, and used the tape to stick the bomb onto the balcony floor-to-ceiling window.

He himself then flipped up onto the roof, counting silently, three, two, one.

Boom!

The enormous blast drowned out the muffled thunder in the clouds; the balcony floor-to-ceiling window vanished without a trace, and nearly half the house was blown into collapse.

Dust filled the scene; the ghost that had been wielding a cleaver was gone. Duizhan Qibing stood amid the shattered ruins, face blackened with soot, and—just like an animated character—puffed a plume of black smoke from his mouth.

"Cough, cough, what the hell was that? How did a pebble even fly into my mouth?"

(End of Chapter)