The Terrifying Severed Hand

Looking at the Old Man inside the wooden house, his back turned toward him, Wang Ye felt a chill spread through his entire body.

Could it be the one from Suburban Cemetery?

How could he possibly be here?!

In that instant, Wang Ye's understanding of this world collapsed.

Was that old bastard human or ghost?

If he was a ghost, why had he not killed anyone in Shangjing City?

But if he was human—

This was already deep within the Wasteland. How could a person survive in a place like this?

Countless doubts flooded Wang Ye's mind.

Meanwhile, the Mail Truck continued driving into the distance, taking a full twenty minutes before it finally left the cemetery.

Having calculated the time all along, Wang Ye's eyes were filled with shock.

This cemetery—

Was a full ten miles long!

If the Ten Miles of Graves were like Suburban Cemetery, with ghosts buried beneath every part of it—

Wang Ye could not imagine it.

Great Terror.

As the Mail Truck departed, the Wooden Door at the wooden house slowly opened.

An Old Man holding a Candle Lamp had somehow appeared in the doorway, silently watching the direction in which Wang Ye was leaving.

After a long while—

A strange smile suddenly appeared on the Old Man's lips.

If Wang Ye were still here, he would have been horrified to discover that this Old Man was the very one who had watched him at Suburban Cemetery.

On the Navigation, Wang Ye still had a full third of the journey left before reaching his destination.

Wang Ye could not imagine whether he would still be alive by the time he delivered this letter.

This mysterious Mail Truck could no longer give him even the slightest sense of safety.

In the pitch-black Wasteland, a tranquil Ancient Mansion emerged in the distance. White cloth hung all over it, as though someone inside had died.

"Ancient Mansion!"

Wang Ye watched it solemnly. Suddenly, the Boning Knife tied to his leg, which had been peaceful all this time, began to emit an eerie chill.

And—

Deep resentment.

Yes, resentment. Wang Ye could clearly sense the resentful energy coming from the Boning Knife.

"It's the Ancient Mansion from the Boning Knife's memory fragment!"

Wang Ye instantly recalled the memory fragment that had flashed through his mind when he first picked up the Boning Knife in Room 404.

In it, the Boning Knife's owner had used this knife in an Ancient Mansion to shave the flesh off a human head.

But he could no longer remember the rest of the images clearly.

Feeling the Boning Knife's abnormality, Wang Ye's mind raced nonstop as he tried desperately to recall that scene.

Abruptly, Wang Ye froze. His face turned pale, and a cold bead of sweat slid down from his temple at some point.

The head placed in the basin, its flesh being cut away by the Boning Knife—

Its face seemed to be his own.

A chill ran down Wang Ye's spine. Why?

Why had he found that scene perfectly normal when he first saw it? Why had he failed to notice anything wrong at all?

With his level of vigilance, how could he have made such a mistake?

The question echoed over and over in Wang Ye's mind.

And the mysterious Ancient Mansion gradually fell behind as the Mail Truck drove away.

At some point, the Ancient Mansion's main gate opened a narrow crack. An eye pressed tightly against the gap, sinisterly watching the Mail Truck depart.

Wang Ye continued thinking about the Ancient Mansion. For the first time, he began to doubt his own mind.

"Damn it, when a man dies, he dies!"

After a long while, Wang Ye suddenly slammed the steering wheel and cursed under his breath, steadying himself again.

Fortunately—

Nothing else happened along this stretch of road.

Before Wang Ye could breathe a sigh of relief, a strange Red Stage suddenly appeared ahead of him.

A woman in opera costume, her face covered in heavy stage makeup, stood on the stage and softly sang.

Below the stage sat a group of ghosts—some headless, some with mutilated bodies—all radiating terrifying auras as they listened with rapt attention.

Faintly, the sound of the opera drifted through the car window and into Wang Ye's ears, making him unable to resist becoming engrossed. Instinctively, he wanted to stop the car and sit in one of the chairs beneath the Stage.

With the last shred of clarity in his mind, Wang Ye bit down hard on his tongue, and a trace of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

The intense pain brought Wang Ye back to his senses, leaving him filled with lingering fear.

This eerie voice was full of temptation, countless times more terrifying than the Weeping Ghost from before.

Wang Ye pulled back the hand that had already reached for the car door, not daring to look at the Stage even once more.

At that moment—

A terrifying hand floated over from the distant sky.

Strands of black energy writhed wildly around the hand, overflowing with terror. Wang Ye's face turned deathly pale after just one glance, and his heartbeat began to race.

Streams of blood flowed from the corners of his eyes.

Then, the terrifying Severed Hand floated above the Stage and lightly slammed down.

The woman on the Stage vanished strangely, as though she had never existed, while the ghosts seated below were smashed brutally into the ground by the hand.

The violent impact shook the Mail Truck without pause. Watching the scene through the rearview mirror, Wang Ye suddenly spat out a mist of blood.

Just one glance had nearly cost him his life.

Wang Ye's heart leaped into his throat. He stomped madly on the accelerator, and the Mail Truck sped past at an incredible pace.

Very quickly, the Severed Hand vanished from Wang Ye's sight.

Severed Hand—

"Severed Hand!"

For some reason, the cross-stitch hanging on the living room wall of Room 404 surfaced in Wang Ye's mind.

But while the Severed Hand in that embroidery was strange, it was not even a fraction as terrifying as this hand.

It seemed to possess only the form, but not the spirit.

But—

First Suburban Cemetery, then the mysterious Room 404.

Within seemingly safe Shangjing City, these two ordinary locations were closely connected to the Wasteland.

It seemed that nothing was as simple as it appeared.

"Damn it, what exactly is this Post Office?"

Wang Ye could not help cursing under his breath. These seemingly independent existences had been eerily linked together by the mysterious Post Office.

Finally—

Nothing unusual happened for the rest of the journey. It was exceptionally quiet.

"Did that hand take care of everything?"

Wang Ye could not be sure. Seeing that the Navigation showed less than five hundred meters remaining, he could not help letting out a sigh of relief.

At last, he had reached the destination alive.

Not far away, an unremarkable-looking residence appeared in Wang Ye's field of vision.

Its blue bricks were somewhat aged, and its main gate was slightly damaged.

Two stone statues stood on either side outside the gate. Unlike traditional gate statues, however, these two were shaped like children, making them seem particularly eerie.

And there was actually a flower bed planted before the residence gate.

It was hard to imagine what sort of existence, deep in this terrifying Wasteland, could possess such leisure and elegance.

The Mail Truck slowly stopped outside the residence.

Wang Ye sat inside the vehicle, vigilantly observing his surroundings.

The mission prompt said to give the letter to the first person he saw.

But it did not say that he had to get out of the car.

This vehicle was Wang Ye's greatest protection at the moment.

Abruptly—

Through the rearview mirror, Wang Ye discovered that at some point, a middle-aged man had appeared beside his vehicle. The man wore a smile as he silently watched Wang Ye.