"Backup... backup!?"

  Everyone stared at Fang Xiu's calm expression, their hearts instantly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of shock. His actions were too ruthless, too blatant, and too unexpected—completely unsettling them.

  Indeed, no one wanted to die, and when faced with a critical choice, a decision had to be made.

  But Fang Xiu didn’t give anyone a chance to discuss or choose. He simply struck without warning.

  Harming one person was bad enough, but he even kept a backup—this utterly abnormal way of acting completely overturned everyone’s understanding of human behavior.

  Now, they were all on high alert around Fang Xiu, terrified that he might decide to keep another "backup."

  But Fang Xiu didn’t make another move.

  "The right path leads to death. If you want to live, take the left."

  The group eyed him suspiciously, clearly no longer trusting him.

  One person asked, "If the left path is the way out, why aren’t you going?"

  "I’m waiting to touch a thigh."

  Touch... a thigh??

  Apart from Zhao Hao, the remaining two thought they had misheard.

  Where in this cursed domain would they find a thigh to touch? Were they supposed to touch a ghost’s thigh?

  At that moment, the sound of twisting joints echoed through the air. The female doctor descended from the ceiling, the *click-clack* noise coming from her limbs as she crawled.

  A trail of bright red blood dripped from the corner of her pale lips.

  "Ahh!"

  The two screamed in panic and turned to flee, but they hesitated, afraid Fang Xiu might be lying. They only took a few steps into the left corridor, not daring to go further.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Meanwhile, Fang Xiu didn’t run. Instead, he walked straight toward the female doctor.

  Of course, he only stopped near Wang Ziteng.

  Seeing Fang Xiu approach, Wang Ziteng’s eyes burned with hatred and fury. He reached out, as if determined to drag Fang Xiu down with him even in death.

  *Thud!*

  Fang Xiu stomped down, pinning Wang Ziteng’s hand firmly under his foot.

  "Ahhh!! You—you—!"

  The excruciating pain drove Wang Ziteng completely mad, his rage consuming all reason.

  Then, Fang Xiu slowly leaned down and said calmly, "Do you like my repayment?"

  Before Wang Ziteng could answer—

  A flash of silver light swept past.

  Silence.

  Fang Xiu straightened up as if he had just done something trivial.

  Then, he walked over to the female doctor and began touching her thigh.

  The others nearby were utterly petrified. Even seeing it with their own eyes, they could hardly believe that Fang Xiu’s "thigh-touching" was literal—touching a ghost’s thigh.

  At this point, Fang Xiu turned his head and looked at Zhao Hao.

  "Join me?"

  Zhao Hao’s actions in the storage room had left an impression on him. Though Fang Xiu no longer felt emotions like gratitude, he still wanted to help Zhao Hao if he could.

  He sensed that his emotions were fading—or rather, his humanity was gradually eroding. The hatred and madness in his heart were overwhelming, and while he didn’t reject this feeling, he also didn’t want to lose all traces of human emotion.

  Zhao Hao hesitated at the invitation, mainly because Fang Xiu’s current appearance was too horrifying.

  His calm face was smeared with blood, the pale skin stark against the crimson, creating a grotesque beauty. At his feet lay Wang Ziteng’s mutilated remains, and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the ghost, it was hard to tell which one was the real monster.

  After a moment of hesitation, Zhao Hao ultimately chose to trust Fang Xiu. He had few friends—or rather, only Fang Xiu was a true friend.

  As an ordinary-looking guy from a modest background, Zhao Hao had always been an outcast at the sales office. Only Fang Xiu, an orphan, was willing to befriend him. Over time, the two became close.

  Slowly, Zhao Hao walked over to Fang Xiu, and the two began touching the thigh together.

  As for the remaining two? They had already fled.

  They hadn’t run from the ghost—but when Fang Xiu turned around, they bolted.

  "Brother Xiu," Zhao Hao hesitated before finally asking, "Why did you suddenly attack Wang Ziteng and Wu Dahai?"

  "This ghost’s speed is far beyond what a human can match. The only way to survive is to buy time with lives. Someone has to die. Given Wang Ziteng and Wu Dahai’s status, who do you think they’d choose if it came down to it? Me, who’s had conflicts with them? Or you, who’s always been looked down on?"

  Zhao Hao’s face turned an unnatural shade of pale. Just as he was about to speak, Fang Xiu added, "Do you feel a cold energy seeping into your body?"

  Zhao Hao froze, then shook his head.

  Fang Xiu’s mind stirred. He focused intently.

  It wasn’t an illusion!

  There really was a strange, icy energy flowing from the female doctor’s thigh into his palm, then spreading throughout his body.

  Was this the corruption of supernatural power?

  Why hadn’t he felt it before when touching the thigh?

  No—maybe he had, but it was too faint. Now, he was likely approaching a critical threshold, making the sensation suddenly intense.

  If his guess was correct, this was probably the precursor to igniting spiritual power!

  Zhao Hao didn’t feel anything because he hadn’t truly faced life and death—his mindset wasn’t there yet.

  The two continued for a while longer before Zhao Hao suggested, "Brother Xiu, it’s about time. Let’s go."

  "No rush. Wu Dahai is still here. I feel like I’m about to ignite my spiritual power."

  Zhao Hao was instantly thrilled. "Really, Brother Xiu? That’s great! We’re saved! What does igniting spiritual power feel like? I don’t feel anything at all."

  "You’ve been exposed to the supernatural for a long time, but your mindset isn’t there yet. You haven’t truly faced life and death, so you can’t sense it."

  Zhao Hao wanted to ask—*we’ve been together this whole time, so when did* you *experience life and death?*—but held back.

  After speaking, Fang Xiu pulled Zhao Hao back, waiting for the female doctor to finish dismembering Wu Dahai before resuming the thigh-touching.

  Wu Dahai was a hefty man. His bulk could buy them at least five minutes.

  Fang Xiu decided to touch for two more minutes, leaving a three-minute buffer for escape. If he still hadn’t ignited his spiritual power by then, he’d have to stop.

  With that, he closed his eyes, his hand moving rhythmically over the thigh as he focused intently on the sensation.