Upon receiving the signal, Wu Dahai immediately responded—after all, he had always followed Wang Ziteng’s lead without question.

  BANG!

  Wu Dahai slammed his bulky frame into Zhao Hao, sending him crashing to the ground with a heavy thud. Then, together with Wang Ziteng, he shoved Fang Xiu out of the storage room and forcefully shut the door behind him.

  At that moment, the space inside and outside the door felt like two entirely different worlds.

  Outside, Fang Xiu stood alone in front of the door.

  Inside, his colleagues remained. Through the small window on the door, Fang Xiu could clearly see each of their expressions.

  Zhao Hao, who seemed to have hit a table or chair during the fall, was writhing on the floor in pain.

  Wang Ziteng and Wu Dahai pressed against the door with twisted, frantic expressions.

  The last person kept their head down, not daring to meet Fang Xiu’s gaze through the window.

  Inside, Wang Ziteng barked at Wu Dahai, “Hold the door tight! Don’t let Fang Xiu get in!”

  “Relax, Young Master Wang. This flimsy wooden door might not hold back a ghost, but it’ll keep a person out just fine,” Wu Dahai chimed in.

  Yet, after bracing for a while, they realized there was no force pushing against the door—no pounding, no kicking, nothing.

  Exchanging puzzled glances, they hesitantly looked up toward the small window.

  There, pressed against the glass, was a pale, smiling face—Fang Xiu’s. His calm, unblinking eyes stared straight at them.

  A chill ran down their spines.

  *“I thought I’d lost all interest in people, but it turns out… sometimes, humans are far more amusing than ghosts. Hahaha…*

  *Thank you for reigniting my curiosity about this world. Next time, I’ll repay you properly.”*

  Fang Xiu’s voice seeped through the worn wooden door, his words cryptic yet laced with an eerie undertone that filled the two with an inexplicable sense of dread.

  Then—click, click, click—the sound of high heels echoed down the hallway.

  The female doctor had arrived.

  The familiar noise struck terror into the hearts of everyone in the storage room. Even though they knew the ghost’s pattern, fear still gripped them instinctively.

  Fang Xiu heard it too, but he didn’t turn around. His smile never wavered as he continued staring at Wang Ziteng and Wu Dahai, as if memorizing their faces.

  The next moment—

  SWISH!

  A silver flash sliced through the air.

  Fang Xiu’s head hit the ground with a heavy thud.

  “Now! Run!” Wang Ziteng roared, shoving the door open and bolting out.

  As he fled, he couldn’t resist glancing back at Fang Xiu’s severed head.

  The face still wore that same smile, the eyes still watching him—calm, unblinking.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Wang Ziteng’s heart nearly stopped. He whipped his head around and sprinted away without another look.

  ---

  A cold, slippery sensation brushed Fang Xiu’s fingertips.

  His vision filled with a pair of slender, pale legs.

  *“Back again,”* he murmured. Then, for the briefest moment, his lips curled into a strange, fleeting smile—so quick that even Zhao Hao beside him missed it.

  Fresh from his death and subsequent reset, Fang Xiu didn’t deviate from his previous actions. Like a scene replaying, he replicated everything exactly as before—touching the leg, fleeing, descending the stairs.

  The stairwell’s dim lighting cast floating shadows, thick as tangible particles in the air.

  Fang Xiu led Zhao Hao in a frantic dash downward—one floor, two, three…

  Before long, hurried footsteps and panicked screams echoed from below.

  “Ghost! The ghost is coming!”

  Just like last time, Fang Xiu leaped over the railing, landing on the next floor and reuniting with Wang Ziteng and the others.

  “Fang Xiu? Zhao Hao? You scared me—I thought it was the ghost!” a colleague gasped, clutching his chest.

  Zhao Hao frowned. “Why are you guys so slow?”

  “Slow? We’ve gone down at least twenty floors! How the hell did you two get here so fast?”

  “......”

  The same conversation unfolded.

  Wang Ziteng began explaining the ghost’s looping illusion, but before he could finish—

  BANG!

  The door swung open.

  And there stood Fang Xiu, silent and still.

  Wang Ziteng froze. So did everyone else.

  *Wait… wasn’t this supposed to be an inescapable loop? How did he just… find the exit?*

  But there was no time to dwell. The group stampeded toward the door.

  Soon, they reached the fork in the hallway and skidded to a halt.

  “Fang Xiu…” Wang Ziteng’s voice was strained. “Did you… awaken your spiritual power?”

  The question sent a ripple through the group.

  They’d all heard Wang Ziteng say only Spirit Masters could fight ghosts—and awakening one’s spiritual energy was the first step.

  Now, with Wang Ziteng asking Fang Xiu this, hope flickered in their eyes.

  It made sense. Unlike last time, when Fang Xiu had groped his way to the exit, this time he’d walked straight to the door and opened it effortlessly.

  Wang Ziteng assumed Fang Xiu had sensed the door’s location through heightened spiritual perception.

  Under their expectant gazes, Fang Xiu didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he checked his phone, noting the time.

  Then he looked up.

  “One minute. The ghost arrives in one minute.”

  The group panicked.

  “You even know the exact timing?!” Wang Ziteng’s voice turned urgent. “You *must* be a Spirit Master! Fang Xiu—get me out of this ghost realm, and I’ll give you five million!”

  “Fang Xiu, please, lead us out!”

  “You know which path to take, right? We’ll repay you, just save us!”

  Fang Xiu shook his head.

  “No rush.”

  His calm reply nearly gave them whiplash.

  “Before we leave,” he continued, “there’s one thing I need to do.”

  Wu Dahai nearly exploded. “What could possibly be more important than—”

  “AHHHHH!!!”

  A bloodcurdling scream cut him off.

  Everyone gaped as Fang Xiu retracted his foot, leaving Wang Ziteng curled on the floor like a shrimp, face purple with agony, veins bulging, screams tearing from his throat.

  Somewhere in the chaos, they swore they heard the sound of eggs cracking.

  “You—you—AAAGH!” Wang Ziteng couldn’t even form words through the pain.

  Wu Dahai, ever the loyal lackey, snapped out of his shock first. “Fang Xiu! What the hell?! Why did you just—just *kick* him?!”

  The others joined in, outraged.

  “Yeah! What was that for?!”

  No one had expected Fang Xiu to attack—let alone with such brutality. Even Wang Ziteng hadn’t seen it coming.

  He’d probably never understand why offering five million earned him a kick to the groin.

  *If you wanted more money, you could’ve just said so!*

  Then Fang Xiu explained.

  “That ghost is faster than any human. When it arrives in one minute, someone *will* die.” His voice was eerily calm. “With Wang Ziteng immobilized, he’ll be the one to take the hit. So, in a way… I’m saving you.”

  *Saving… us?*

  The group stared, dumbfounded. No matter how hard they racked their brains, they couldn’t reconcile this logic.

  Before they could react, Fang Xiu struck again.

  “GYAAAH—!”

  Another scream.

  This time, Wu Dahai collapsed in the same position—hands clutching his crotch, howling before promptly passing out from the pain.

  It was common knowledge: a man’s weakest spot was his family jewels. And Fang Xiu hadn’t held back.

  Wang Ziteng and Wu Dahai wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

  The group erupted.

  First Wang Ziteng, now Wu Dahai—Fang Xiu had attacked *twice* without warning.

  “B-bro Xiu, what the hell are you—?!” Zhao Hao instinctively backed away, hands shielding his own vulnerable area.

  The others eyed Fang Xiu with fear and suspicion.

  No one wanted to stand near someone who’d suddenly drop-kick a man’s future children into oblivion.

  “Fang Xiu!” a colleague shouted. “You said attacking Wang Ziteng was to ‘save’ us—then why Wu Dahai?!”

  Fang Xiu remained unfazed.

  “Backup.”

  His answer was simple.

  Cold.

  Calculated.