This was an unsolved case buried for twenty years. Yingnan University's Building D had been cut off from all life after the incident—its fourth floor and above had been completely sealed shut.
The heavy fire doors were locked, covered in dust year-round, and the windows had been nailed shut with boards. Only a handful of rooms on the ground floor were occasionally put to use.
The upper floors had become storage for discarded desks and chairs, old laboratory equipment, and other clutter—a corner of the campus no one dared approach lightly.
Late at night.
Yingnan University's campus had long since shed the daytime clamor. Only the streetlights along the main roads remained lit.
Their bright light spilled through the thin mist onto the pavement, stretching the shadows of the plane trees long. When the wind stirred the leaves, their rustling sounded especially clear in the silent night.
The hands of the clock quietly passed midnight, creeping toward one in the morning.
By usual custom, the university gate should have held nothing more than a faint glow from the security booth at this hour, with scarcely any passing vehicles.
But tonight was different. The scene at the gate carried an indescribable air of abnormality—
Several black sedans, rarely seen on ordinary days, were parked there. Beside them stood several figures in suits and leather shoes: Yingnan University's senior leadership.
Even the principal, who rarely appeared outside working days, was among them. There were five people in all.
They did not speak. They merely glanced now and then toward the road outside the campus, their expressions grave, as though waiting for something—or anticipating what was about to happen.
Of course, none of them could hide their exhaustion now. The dark circles beneath their eyes were especially obvious beneath the streetlights.
Clearly, these