As we passed the front desk, the young receptionist forced a strained smile. “Take your time leaving. Travel safely…”

Stepping outside, unease crept in. I tugged An Li’s sleeve.

“An Li, that receptionist’s look and tone just now felt off. Could something be wrong with her?”

An Li shook her head. “No idea. Doesn’t matter.”

Just a frail woman anyway. No dark aura detected. Not worth the trouble.

The area around Lianyun Scenic Grand Hotel was serene—endless green belts flanking the road, a small artificial fountain at the center. Circling it led to the parking lot. An Li retrieved the car.

“Get in.”

I glanced at the open door, then around. “Wait—could you buy me something?”

An Li shot me a questioning look but didn’t ask. She pulled out a few red bills and handed them over.

“No need for so much. One’s enough.” I took a single hundred-yuan note and hurried to the roadside convenience store.

A 24-hour shop. The morning shift staffer had just arrived, still half-asleep. I grabbed a few lollipops from the shelf to ease my low blood sugar. Glancing back discreetly, the cashier yawned nonstop, utterly drowsy. Quietly, I slipped to the tobacco section and took a small, elegantly packaged cigarette box.

“Checkout!”

The sleepy cashier muttered about early-morning shoppers while scanning items.

“Eighty-six yuan.”

A hundred-yuan bill appeared on the counter—but no customer in sight.

He dismissed it. Too groggy this early; might as well pretend a ghost bought cigarettes.

He ran the bill through the validator, placed the change on the counter, and slumped back to doze.

I tiptoed, snatched the lollipops and cigarettes, and darted out.

“Ugh… pathetic. Even buying cigarettes needs this much caution,” I murmured.

Back then, I was a grown man—ID in hand, striding confidently through internet cafes and nightclubs. Buying smokes for teachers? No issue.

Now? Suddenly an elementary schooler again. Sigh.

Not that I smoke. Cigarettes just… help. Offer one when asking a favor—sometimes it works.

Back at the lot entrance, I hopped into An Li’s car and handed her fourteen yuan change. She didn’t glance at it, didn’t ask what I bought. Just took it and pressed the accelerator.

I contentedly unwrapped a lollipop, watching the scenery roll by while sugar kicked in. Vanilla flavor—decent enough.

Wuzhou City’s Lianyun District was a scenic commercial zone, light on industry. Prosperous yet livable. Plazas and shopping streets dotted the area. The large plaza we’d passed seemed to host an event: an inflatable archway swayed gently, held aloft by hot air from a blower below.

Open at top and base—the blower fed air upward; escaping through the “head,” shifting currents made the humanoid figure’s body and arms sway like a giant dancing wildly to silent music.

“What’s this plaza called?” I asked An Li. “So lively.”

“No idea. Can’t you check the map?” she replied coldly.

She was deep in mission details. Scenery didn’t register.

Lianyun District buzzed on, unaware of the horror lurking nearby—over five hundred lives already lost. No online traces. No news reports. Only grieving families might still search…

Wait. The evil spirit’s killings spread through causal infection—indirect contact. Most victims’ families likely perished too. That’s why the streets stayed cheerful.

My mood dimmed. I just hoped An Li would wrap this up fast and take down that monster.

“We’re here.”

An Li didn’t bother finding a spot. She parked straight before the Investigation Bureau of Wuzhou City’s Lianyun District. Exactly ten o’clock—flawless timing.

Tension hung thick at the bureau entrance. Five armed officers stood guard even at this hour. One strode over as we parked.

“Miss, no parking here.”

His posture was rigid, fingers hovering near his holster. Every line of his body screamed palpable tension.