"Yesterday I actually slept well! Could it be… she’s gone? Hahahahaha!"

Just as Dr. Chen leaped up in excitement, he froze—this was his bedroom? He’d clearly passed out in the bathroom. Who moved him here?

A chill shot through him. His elation vanished, replaced by icy dread. Cold sweat soaked his back. Trembling, he pulled out his phone and opened the app.

[Regrettably, the summoned Malevolent Ghost was far too weak—it was devoured by her. But here’s good news: digesting a Malevolent Ghost takes time. You are safe for at least one week.]

"Are you kidding me?!" He hurled the phone onto the bed. Moments later, he reluctantly picked it up again.

"Clearly, wandering spirits summoned this way aren’t strong enough. I need a Malevolent Ghost who died a brutal death. Do you have a method?"

After typing the message, blood-red text slowly surfaced on the screen after ten seconds:

[The uninhabited third floor echoes with mournful weeping. Those who enter never return alive. Location: third floor of Linping Apartment. If you wish to meet him, knock on his door at midnight. He will warmly invite you for a cup of tea. Remember! The third floor is the boundary between the human world and hell.]

"Linping Apartment? Didn’t it shut down years ago?"

It wasn’t that Dr. Chen knew much—he simply couldn’t avoid knowing. The place was infamous. News reports years ago told of a husband beating his wife to death and setting the building ablaze. Cluttered hallways in the aging structure let flames race upward, claiming many lives. Abandoned and untouched due to its location, it later became a shelter for the homeless. Then came whispers—homeless residents began vanishing. Unconfirmed. Never reported.

"This place’s Malevolent Ghost is clearly stronger than last night’s," Dr. Chen muttered. He made up his mind instantly. He knew the trip could kill him… but staying meant one week of torture by *her* anyway.

"Still… better prepare first. A week’s not urgent."

For three days, he indulged—food, drinks, reckless joy—spending every last coin. Yet each night, the dream returned: the female ghost standing bedside, unmoving. Not strangling him. *Digesting*, just as the app said.

On the third night, he saw her inching closer—exactly as before. No more delays. What if her digestion was *too* efficient? Waiting could mean no second chance.

At dawn on day four, he packed: flashlight, lighter, screwdriver, wrench, hammer, cordless drill… Perfectly reasonable gear for an automotive repair student.

The six-story building stood split in two. Floors above the third were scorched black, stark against the clean white below—like two worlds fused. Melted window frames gaped open. Peering up, only pitch-black interiors met the eye; smoke-stained walls swallowed even daylight.

"Huh? Someone still lives here?"

At the entrance, an old man dozed in a rocking chair.

"What’re you doing?!" the man snapped, rising abruptly. "No live streams allowed! Why won’t you kids listen?!"

Dr. Chen smirked inwardly. *Classic horror trope*, he thought. *The eerie old guard warns the reckless youths. They ignore him. Then… game over.*