Chapter 70: But I Won't Proactively Welcome It

Federal Weird Investigation Bureau headquarters.

1,300 meters above ground, Containment Zone A-02.

A black‑painted platform bears a massive unfinished tower, suspended by thousands of special steel cables beneath the vast sky.

Here lies the cage of Sequence 002's Weird "Ghost Wall"—the Sky City.

"Buzz—"

The heavy alloy gate slowly opens, a bone‑piercing chill accompanied by a strong rotting odor rushing toward her.

Qin Zhixia leans on a cane, her slender figure standing before the gate.

She does not look back.

She simply removes her coat and gently places it on the metal platform at the doorway.

Then, limping, she steps into the building, into the darkness that could swallow everything.

"Clang!"

The alloy gate behind her slams shut, completely isolating her from the human world.

Absolute silence.

Only her slightly labored breathing from the leg injury and the "thud‑thud" of her cane striking the cement floor.

Qin Zhixia walks into the corridor, lifts her head, and surveys this corner abandoned by the world.

The air is filled with a nauseating smell of cement, dust, and some unknown rot. The walls are covered with mottled mold and dried water stains, resembling twisted human faces.

She ignores it, silently beginning a mental timer.

"One, two, three......"

She climbs the sole cement staircase, beginning to ascend.

One floor, two floors, three floors......

When she steps onto the fifth platform, her movement halts.

She returns to that familiar, graffiti‑covered entrance hall.

Expressionless, she turns and goes down.

One floor, two floors......

The result is the same.

She returns to the starting point again.

The "Ghost Wall" rules have taken effect.

Qin Zhixia leans against the dust‑covered wall, adjusting her breathing to conserve energy.

At that moment.

"Zila......"

The already dim emergency light overhead begins to flicker wildly, casting countless twitching shadows on the wall.

In the empty corridor, a sudden intermittent wail erupts without warning.

A woman's lament, a child's whimper.

The sound seems to come from all directions, yet also directly in her mind, cold and desperate, scraping her nerves repeatedly.

Qin Zhixia closes her eyes, forcing herself not to listen.

Yet the sound grows clearer.

On the wall, black viscous liquid begins to seep out, forming countless dark handprints, dense as if countless drowning victims were struggling.

Immediately, hallucinations descend.

Xiao Zhang lies bloodied at her feet, extending a hand with his last ounce of strength, his eyes filled with resentment and pain.

Those colleagues who mentally collapsed in the villa surround her, faces twisted, clawing their bloody faces with nails, emitting beast‑like roars.

Her father Qin Yongchang, dressed in prison garb, behind iron bars, his hair turned white overnight, his once‑authoritative eyes now only hold endless remorse and age.

Scene after scene, all are the deepest pain and helplessness in her heart.

Qin Zhixia's body trembles violently, the fingers gripping her cane turning white from the strain.

She snaps her eyes open, her gaze a cold calm.

She neither flees nor collapses, merely watches the hallucinations play out before her, then shatter, with cold detachment.

She finds a relatively clean corner, sits down, and closes her eyes.

No looking, no listening, no movement, no thought.

What she must do now is only one thing.

Survive.

Inside the Main Control Room.

On the massive surveillance screen, divided into dozens of panels, the interior of the unfinished tower is shown from various angles.

Yet most panels remain static, only a red dot representing Qin Zhixia's vital signs gently pulsates.

"Target has been inside the containment facility for two hours and seven minutes."

L's voice is as flat as always, devoid of emotion, "Heart rate 75, blood pressure 110/75, breathing steady. Brainwaves showed high‑frequency oscillations then quickly returned to normal. Preliminary assessment: Sequence 002's first‑stage Spiritual Pollution is ineffective on her."

Nie Yang, clad in a black Windcoat, cradles his Goji Berry Thermos, gently blowing a puff of warm air.

He looks at the stationary red dot on the screen, and on his warm face, for the first time, a unabashed smile of approval appears.

"Interesting."

"Looks like we might have actually found a treasure this time."

Inside the unfinished tower.

Conventional terrifying hallucinations cannot shake Qin Zhixia's mind; the "Ghost Wall" attack pattern quietly changes.

As time passed.

A sharp rumbling in her abdomen broke the silence.

Hunger, like flames, scorched her stomach.

Her lips cracked from dehydration; each swallow brought a knife‑like pain to her throat.

The old injury in her right leg began to throb faintly, that sore‑numb ache constantly reminding her of past failure and humiliation.

These physical torments eroded her will far more than mere ghostly apparitions.

Qin Zhixia's breathing began to become somewhat disordered.

She slowly opened her eyes.

On the staircase opposite her, at some point, another person sat.

No, that wasn't a person.

That was another "Qin Zhixia".

That "Qin Zhixia" also leaned on a cane, but her limbs were twisted at a Weird angle, her neck dangling to one side, only a layer of flesh connecting her to her body, yet her face bore a gentle‑to‑pitiful smile.

She just stared at Qin Zhixia silently, her eyes holding no malice, only pure pity.

"Zhixia, why have you driven yourself to this point?"

The illusion spoke, its voice identical to hers, yet filled with an entrancing tenderness.

"Your justice, your perseverance, everything you've guarded...... in a world already rotten to the core, what meaning does it have?"

"Look at you, like a dog abandoned by everyone. Your father, your colleagues, the order you once swore to protect with your life...... who still cares for you, who can still care for you?"

Each word turned into the most vicious needle, precisely piercing the softest, most confused part of Qin Zhixia's heart.

The illusion Qin Zhixia extended a twisted, deformed hand toward her.

"You have nothing left, Zhixia."

"You've struggled enough, you're tired enough."

"Give up, surrender to my embrace, come to me, and sleep well, peacefully......"

"Sleep well......"

That simple sentence, like a spell, gradually melted Qin Zhixia's taut nerves.

Yes.

She really...... was too tired.

Since graduating from the police academy, she had been like a wound‑up spring, never stopping—investigations, solving cases, all‑night stakeouts, interrogations...... she devoted her entire self to that police uniform.

But what was the result?

Close relatives imprisoned, comrades gravely wounded, faith shattered...... she herself ended up battered and bruised, like a wreck, gambling her life here on an illusory future.

Why?

A huge wave of fatigue and grievance, like a flood, slowly engulfed her.

Her rationality screamed a warning that this was a trap.

But her body and soul craved that false peace.

Her breathing grew ragged, her gaze began to scatter.

The human hand, uncontrollably, slowly lifted, trembling, reaching toward the illusion across from her that represented "giving up" and "rest".

Closer.

Even closer.

At the moment her fingertips were about to touch that cold, twisted palm.

"Pfft!"

Qin Zhixia suddenly bit down hard on the tip of her own tongue!

The intense pain and the bloody taste filling her mouth, like a lightning bolt, instantly split the fog shrouding her mind!

In that instant, her gaze regained clarity and resolve!

"Get lost!"

A furious shout!

The hand she had raised did not seek that false embrace; instead, she clenched it into a fist, mustering all her strength, and slammed it hard into the illusion before her!

"Bang!"

That gentle, pitiful "Qin Zhixia" shattered like a mirror, turning into a sky‑full of black mist.

Qin Zhixia, leaning on her cane, staggered back to an upright stance.

In the depths of utter despair, her spine straightened even more than ever.

She lifted her head, surveying this endless loop of dark hell, her mouth full of blood, yet her eyes shone astonishingly bright.

"Only death will make me give up."

"And I will never actively welcome it!"