Grave No. 6, Bottom of the Grave

"Little brother, want to walk home together?"

Zhou Han clasped her hands behind her back, looking at Wang Ye with a sweet smile.

The corner of Wang Ye's mouth twitched faintly. He said nothing.

Zhou Han giggled, sidestepped Xiao Si, and squeezed up next to Wang Ye, her expression one of someone determined to latch onto him.

And so it went.

On the street, a young man with a dark face, a girl bouncing along like a maiden, and a figure in a pink bunny-eared hat—an odd combination.

It made people can't help but stare.

Back home, Wang Ye shut the door the moment he stepped inside, letting out a faint sigh of relief.

"That crazy woman!" Wang Ye couldn't help but curse. He glanced at Xiao Si's expressionless face and swallowed the rest of his words.

There wasn't much to talk about with a ghost that had no feelings, anyway.

Thinking this, Wang Ye let out a long, quiet sigh. Feeling the weariness in his body, he went back to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep.

In the living room, Xiao Si, who had been standing in the corner like a statue, suddenly moved her stiff body and slowly sat down on the sofa.

A long, silent shadow stretched soundlessly across the floor, reaching straight toward Wang Ye's bedroom door.

But just as it was about to touch the door, the shadow stopped, eerily.

Gradually, the shadow retracted, reappearing beneath Xiao Si's feet, returning to normal.

As night fell, a glimmer of color flickered in Xiao Si's eyes. She lounged back on the sofa, crossed her legs, her movements identical to Wang Ye's from earlier that day.

Slowly, she stood up, then jerked backward, staring fixedly at the doorway.

She was imitating Wang Ye's movements from the afternoon.

A long time passed.

The color in Xiao Si's eyes gradually faded, returning to emptiness. She went back to her original spot and stood still once more.

In the bedroom, Wang Ye's eyes had opened at some point—who knew how long they'd been open.

A boning knife, radiating a chill, was gripped tightly in his hand.

Listening to the sounds in the living room slowly quiet down, Wang Ye closed his eyes again. But the boning knife remained clenched in his grip.

Daylight.

Slowly broke.

It was a rare day off. Soaking in the peaceful atmosphere, Wang Ye sat leisurely on the sofa, observing Xiao Si.

After a long while, a sound came from outside the door. It seemed Zhou Han had gone out, but when he heard the sound of footsteps going downstairs rather than a knock, Wang Ye visibly relaxed.

Following the encrypted URL Zhang Ziliang had sent via text message, Wang Ye logged in.

Sure enough.

Under A-Class Intelligence Clearance, there was more information, and it was far more detailed.

He tried searching for Suburban Cemetery, but it showed up blank. Wang Ye's brow furrowed deeply.

"Nothing, huh."

"Just as I thought—no records."

"Those good-for-nothings in the Intelligence Department."

With a helpless sigh, Wang Ye turned off his phone.

Then, as if remembering something, he found the jacket he'd worn when going out with Zhou Han the day before. Carefully, he pulled a worn, yellowed scrap of paper from the pocket.

Because of its age, the writing on the paper was already faint and blurry.

Held up to the light, only a few words could be made out.

"Suburban Cemetery."

"Grave No. 6."

"Bottom of the grave."

Staring at those words, Wang Ye's pupils contracted slightly.

So it was that mysterious Suburban Cemetery again? The Mass Grave, Suburban Cemetery, and the Ten Miles of Graves he'd encountered in the Wasteland—what kind of connection was there between them all?

And what secret was hidden at the bottom of Grave No. 6?

What's more, this had been found in the clothing of a corpse that had long since died, suspected to be a Superhuman.

Could it be that Superhumans really existed before the Eternal Night?

These bizarre connections, like riddles, surfaced deeply in Wang Ye's mind.

It was like a thread, yet he couldn't grasp it.

Wang Ye irritably tucked the note carefully into a drawer and sank into thought.

Beside him, Xiao Si stood silently, a faint, barely perceptible gleam flashing through her hollow eyes.

Night.

Wang Ye, asleep in his bedroom, heard the sound of the door opening and silently opened his eyes.

Footsteps echoed from the stairway.

After a long while, Wang Ye gently opened his bedroom door. In the living room, Xiao Si's figure had vanished.

His expression turning serious, Wang Ye walked to the window and peered down through the curtain. Xiao Si's somewhat stiff form appeared in the residential complex, slowly walking out through the main gate and disappearing into the darkness.

Frowning slightly, Wang Ye silently dressed, went downstairs, and headed in the direction Xiao Si had gone, trailing far behind her.

The crowds gradually thinned.

As the scene grew more and more familiar, a chill crept up Wang Ye's heart.

Suburban Cemetery!

He was certain—this was the road to the Suburban Cemetery!

Sure enough.

Standing not far from the main gate of the Suburban Cemetery, Wang Ye watched Xiao Si's figure slowly vanish into the darkness.

Inside the wooden hut by the gate, a candle flame flickered faintly.

But the hut was empty.

That eerie, mysterious Old Man had disappeared at some unknown time.

Wang Ye concealed himself in the shadows, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on the entrance of the Suburban Cemetery.

A long time passed.

From within the cemetery came a series of noises and the sound of hoarse roars.

Ten minutes later, the roars gradually faded, and the commotion subsided.

Xiao Si silently appeared at the cemetery's exit. Her clothes were slightly torn, and her eyes were hollow, as if she had no soul.

Wang Ye shifted his gaze slightly, hiding his body, then gradually slipped away and returned home.

In the hallway, under the dim light, a shadow seemed to flicker past.

Wang Ye's pupils contracted slightly. He stared for a long time but found nothing unusual. Behind him.

Footsteps slowly sounded from the stairwell.

A glint of coldness flashed in Wang Ye's eyes. He opened the door, stepped inside, silently collapsed onto his bed, and closed his eyes.

Not long after, the door opened again.

Xiao Si walked back into the room with stiff steps, returning to the same standing posture she had held before Wang Ye fell asleep.

Listening to the sounds from the living room, Wang Ye's eyes had opened at some point, his mind churning with thoughts.

The next few days were quiet.

Zhang Ziliang was constantly researching team candidates. Word had it that many Superhumans were pulling strings to join a team.

After all, joining a team meant endless resources.

The threshold of Zhang Ziliang's office had been worn down by visitors.

Some Superhumans had even somehow gotten hold of Wang Ye's phone number.

It only calmed down when Wang Ye was about to lose his temper.

Of course.

One small interlude was that Zhou Han had come by.

She casually left behind a single sentence, demanding a spot on Wang Ye's team.

Just as Wang Ye's head began to ache, Zhang Ziliang readily agreed.

Wang Ye's head instantly ached even more.

And that very night, at midnight, the mysterious Wooden Door appeared once again in Wang Ye's living room.