Fang Xiu instinctively turned to look back at the mental hospital’s entrance—only to find it had vanished.

  In its pce stood a solid wall.

  He took two steps back and surveyed the scene. There was no trace of the mental hospital anymore—only the opulent, sprawling Willow Grove Manor.

  He blinked reflexively.

  When he opened his eyes again, the mental hospital had reappeared—but the security guard, Brother Zhao, was gone.

  What the hell is going on?

  He focused his gaze, staring intently at Green Mountain Mental Hospital.

  The next moment, something bizarre happened.

  Willow Grove Manor began to slowly materialize, like a cinematic fade-in—first as a faint shadow, then solidifying, its colors deepening.

  But the eerie part was that Green Mountain Mental Hospital was still there.

  The two buildings seemed to overp, as if occupying the same space.

  A spatial anomaly? A dimensional overp?

  To Fang Xiu, it looked like his vision was doubling—everywhere he looked, the mental hospital and Willow Grove Manor were superimposed.

  He shifted his position and reached out to touch the wall. His hand passed straight through the mental hospital’s structure, stopping only when it met the solid surface of Willow Grove Manor’s wall.

  So the mental hospital is like the other anomalies—illusory, visible but intangible unless certain conditions are met.

  This was still Willow Grove Manor. The mental hospital was like a holographic projection yered over it.

  Now, Fang Xiu lost all interest in confronting Wu Dahai. His mind was fixated on uncovering the secrets of the mental hospital.

  Why are the other anomalies living creatures, while this one is a structure?

  “Hey—Fang! Where are you going? Why aren’t you answering me?”

  Brother Zhao’s voice called from behind, but Fang Xiu ignored him, his attention wholly consumed by the mental hospital.

  He moved slowly, carefully—the two buildings overpped so much that it was hard to distinguish illusion from reality. One wrong step, and he might walk straight into a wall.

  Like now.

  He was standing near Willow Grove Manor’s ndscaped garden, but before him loomed a crumbling, decrepit hospital ward.

  Without hesitation, Fang Xiu stepped forward—passing through the illusory wall as if it were air—and entered the ward.

  The scene shifted.

  A dim corridor stretched before him, lined with benches and walls smeared with long-dried bckish-red bloodstains.

  It looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

  The entire pce felt like a hospital frozen in time decades ago—dull gray walls, floors of rough concrete instead of polished marble.

  Fang Xiu didn’t bother with conventional paths. He walked straight through walls, exploring freely.

  The mental hospital seemed to have been the site of some unspeakable horror. Bloodstains were everywhere, along with rotting chunks of flesh.

  He passed through the lobby, the cafeteria, the bathrooms, the activity rooms—all deserted.

  Then he stopped in front of a particur ward.

  This one stood out.

  Its door was a deep, unsettling crimson—as if someone had drenched it in blood and let it dry.

  From a distance, it looked like the gaping maw of a demon, chilling to the bone.

  A number was etched on the door:

  104.

  Ward 104?

  Fang Xiu’s curiosity fred. He stepped forward, passing through the door as if it weren’t there.

  Inside was a sparse room with only a single dipidated bed.

  In the corner of the bed, a small figure in a patient’s gown sat curled up, her face buried in her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  Her pale wrists bore a frayed, handmade bracelet of woven string. Her face was hidden.

  Fang Xiu didn’t react, pretending not to see her—but his peripheral vision was locked onto her.

  He wasn’t naive enough to think a living human could exist in this pce.

  Even if she looked human.

  The girl seemed to sense his presence.

  Her head snapped up.

  Fang Xiu’s gaze instantly withdrew—because her face had no features.

  No eyes, no nose, no mouth.

  Just smooth, bnk skin.

  He walked past her without pause, heading deeper into the ward.

  The faceless girl’s head turned slowly, tracking him until he left Ward 104.

  Beyond it, Fang Xiu encountered more wards, each with its own number.

  He entered them one by one, meeting anomalies of all shapes and sizes.

  Most were violent and bloodthirsty, attacking the moment they sensed a living human.

  Fang Xiu didn’t flinch, letting them sh out harmlessly.

  After a quick count, he realized there were dozens of these wards.

  Which meant this mental hospital held at least dozens of anomalies.

  This pce is hiding something big.

  As he walked, he suddenly stopped.

  Wards 162, 169, and 177 had their doors wide open.

  Inside—nothing.

  Did the anomalies escape?

  He pressed forward, but his path was blocked by a real-world vil. Without a key, he had to detour.

  When he circled back, he found himself in what appeared to be a doctor’s office.

  A desk sat in the center, strewn with a stethoscope and bloodstained medical reports.

  Fang Xiu approached, scanning the documents—and his pupils contracted.

  One partially legible report, its text obscured by dried blood, read:

  Subject 128

  [...] (bloodstain)

  Anomaly Conversion Rate: 21.64%

  Result: FAILED

  Anomaly conversion?!

  Are anomalies transformed from humans?

  Were the creatures in these wards once people?

  A cold ripple of shock ran through him. He wanted to keep reading, but—

  Right. This is all an illusion. I can’t interact with anything here.

  Damn it!

  The answers were right in front of him, just out of reach. The frustration stoked his fury.

  Then—

  A few strands of fine bck hair drifted into his line of sight, hanging from above.

  Fang Xiu didn’t look up.

  Instead, he pretended to wander aimlessly, putting distance between himself and whatever was overhead before gncing sideways.

  A thing in a white b coat crouched on the ceiling, its limbs grotesquely elongated like a spider’s.

  A “beautiful” doctor.

  Her face was corpse-pale, her eye sockets pitch-bck and etched with sinister patterns. Her eyes had no pupils—just bnk white orbs.

  Her hair, over a meter long, draped down like a curtain.

  In one hand, she clutched a gleaming surgical knife.

  A doctor?

  Fang Xiu’s mind raced.

  Did she write these reports?

  Was she once human too?

  Questions flooded his thoughts, but there were no answers here. Anomalies didn’t hold conversations.

  He moved on. If the doctor’s office held clues, there had to be more elsewhere.

  The director’s office.

  That had to be the heart of the mental hospital.

  All the secrets must be there.

  He navigated the illusory halls, searching for the director’s office.

  Soon, he zeroed in on an administrative wing. Based on standard hospital youts, that was where the director’s office should be.

  But when he approached, he realized something chilling.

  In the real world, this area corresponded to Willow Grove Manor’s sales office—the very pce where Fang Xiu worked.