Chapter 290: Encounter

The world outside the window has changed.

If the earlier red light was merely like a cheap filter draped over the city, now that filter has come to life.

The dark‑red halo begins to rhythmically contract and expand at a breakneck pace, like a heart beating too fast from excitement.

That low‑frequency "hum" pierces the glass, travels through the floor to Su Ming's soles, making his jaw ache.

Su Ming stands behind a gap in the curtain, watching the Mutants—or rather, Weird derivatives—that were still aimlessly roaming the street below.

They stopped.

Hundreds to thousands of monsters simultaneously lift their heads, their murky, blood‑shot or pupil‑less eyes fixed on the massive Blood Moon in the sky. Immediately, the whole city erupts in wolf‑like howls.

That is not a cry of pain, but a prelude to revelry.

"Time to start preparing."

Su Ming lowers the curtain and turns back to the living room.

In the previous life, even those who survived the first wave of Mutants would die inexplicably within hours, because they thought staying silent inside a house would keep them safe.

Naïve.

Although the external light will no longer be lethal then, it will spawn even stronger Weird rule‑type phenomena.

And as the Red Light Frequency changes, residential buildings will instantly become a breeding ground favored by the filthiest things.

Faces will seep through the walls, reflections will crawl out of mirrors, and even a hand might emerge from the toilet you sit on to pull you down.

Buildings will no longer be safe inside.

"Blood Moon Game" is the true name of this apocalypse.

Later, the Investigation Bureau and various factions will intervene, and combined with the inherent dangers of the Weird Domain, this city shrouded by the Weird Domain will become a lawless land.

Standing still means death.

Su Ming tosses the fashion magazines onto the floor.

"VOGUE", "Harper's Bazaar".

Good material—copper‑plate paper, thick enough, with plenty of toughness.

He rips open the strong adhesive tape, a "crack!" echoing sharply in the silent room.

Su Ming rolls the magazines around his forearm in a thick layer, then wraps them tightly with tape. This homemade arm guard won't stop bullets, but it's a perfect shield against bites and scratches.

Weird attacks carry corrosive contamination; although he already has a Time Marrow Worm inside, it is currently dormant and cannot help him resist the specially toxic Weird assaults.

Left arm, right arm, calf.

After wrapping, Su Ming moves his joints a bit. They're a little stiff, but it doesn't hinder big movements.

He pulls a black combat jacket from the hiking pack, slips it on, pulls the zipper to the top, covering half his face.

"Too bad I didn't get a motorcycle helmet."

Su Ming pats his neck, his only weak point. He thinks, tears out a National Geographic, rolls it into a hard paper ring, stuffs it into the jacket's collar, making a makeshift neck guard.

It looks a bit ugly, like a cervical‑spondylosis patient, but survival comes first.

Fully equipped, Su Ming pulls a travel map from under the coffee table.

He's already scribbled a chaotic mess on the map with a red pen.

Several main arteries crossing the city are marked with alarming red Xs.

Those are dead ends.

The streets are now littered with scrapped vehicles and Weird tides; if you get trapped in the middle, you're like a canned sardine with nowhere to flee.

"Sticking to the surface is courting death..."

Su Ming's pen tip wanders over the map, finally stopping on two slender blue lines.

Metro Line 1 and the city's sewage pipe network.

That is, the Sewer.

Both routes run underground, perfectly evading the Red Light's direct rays, and the confined space holds far fewer Mutants than the surface.

Though there may be some Weirdness or local Rules inside, compared with the big monsters above, it's merely a starter.

"Target: the unfinished‑building district in the North Suburbs."

Su Ming draws a circle at the edge of the map.

It's sparsely populated and relatively open.

As long as he survives this Blood Moon eruption period, it will be the best shelter.

No Weird will arise there, nor will the Blood Moon Game affect it. He can hide there until the second phase of the Blood Moon Game ends.

In the third phase, the internal borders of the Weird Domain will become unstable; finding the pattern will allow escape.

Inside are disputes and chaos he doesn't want to join.

As for this apartment building...

Su Ming looks back at the house he painstakingly reinforced.

In the shadow of the corner, something seems to writhe. The once‑smooth wallpaper bulges into a small lump, like a skin disease. The bathroom faucet, though tightened, begins to drip dark‑red liquid.

It's already starting to get haunted.

"Time to go."

Su Ming stuffs the remaining chocolate pieces and the bottle of water into his waist pack, lifts the long‑handle mop‑like spear with one hand, and clips the crowbar onto his backpack.

He walks to the doorway and looks out again through the peephole.

The Corridor's metallic scent has turned, now mixed with a rotting, foul‑egg stench.

Li Dama's remains have vanished.

Not eaten, but disappeared. The blood stains on the ground are spotless, as if the tragedy never occurred.

This cleanliness makes the scalp prickle more than a floor covered in shredded flesh.

This is the omen of a Rule Ghost Story.

Su Ming no longer hesitated; since he had decided to run, he had to be quick. Even if ahead lay a mountain of knives and a sea of fire, it was still better than staying in this apartment that was about to become a Rule Ghost Story.

He shoved the door open.

This time, he didn't close the door, leaving the anti‑theft door wide open.

The voice‑activated lights in the corridor had completely failed; only the green "Safety Exit" sign in the emergency passage emitted a sickly green glow, illuminating the stairway like the Hall of Yama.

Su Ming pressed himself against the wall, his steps as light as a hunting cat's.

Twelfth Floor.

Eleventh Floor.

The anti‑theft doors on every floor were tightly shut, inside occasionally came a few muffled sobs, or the sound of nails scratching the door panels.

Su Ming turned a deaf ear.

When he reached the tenth floor, something suddenly changed.

The deathly silence was shattered by a sudden, urgent yet orderly series of footsteps.

It was the sound of tactical boots striking the concrete floor.

It wasn't a dragging, scraping noise, but a powerful, clean, rhythmically distinct landing sound.

Someone there?

And not just a few.

Su Ming's pupils contracted sharply, his body reacting on instinct. He didn't keep going down; instead, without missing a beat, he darted behind the tenth‑floor fire door.

He suppressed his breath to the extreme, merging completely with the shadows.

The footsteps drew nearer.

They were coming up from below.

"All units, take note: entering the contaminated area, the readings are spiking."

A low‑pitched male voice floated up the stairwell, coming through a radio earpiece; although faint, in this deathly quiet Su Ming heard it crystal clear.

"Received. The cleanup team is advancing; no enemy targets have been spotted yet."

"This building's weird‑detection response is strong—be careful, don't slip up in the gutter."

"Wait…… it looks like someone's here."