The midday sun should have blazed through the clouds, baking the asphalt until heat shimmered above it.
Yet outside the nearby Clear Creek Garden residential complex, a lingering chill hung in the air.
The onlookers crowded around in dense layers. Some stood on tiptoe to peer over the others, some whispered among themselves, and some held up their phones to film. Curiosity and fear filled every face. Their murmurs buzzed through the air, but no one dared take even half a step past the yellow police tape.
"I heard more than a dozen people have died in that building, all for no apparent reason!"
"Look at that building. Why is it shrouded in fog in broad daylight?"
"Don't you know? This place is the famous Ghost Building!"
"Ghosts are real? I don't buy it. Maybe it was a terrorist attack?"
Following the crowd's gaze, a freestanding apartment building at the far end of the complex loomed like a crouching beast. Its gray-black walls were peeling and crumbling, and most of its windowpanes had shattered, exposing dark openings like eyes spying on the outside world.
The strange thing was that the sky was perfectly clear.
Yet a thin layer of gray-black mist lingered around the building, carrying an air of decay and icy cold.
Even dozens of meters away, the onlookers could feel a chill that seemed to rob the midday sunlight of its warmth.
Inside the police cordon, several grim-faced middle-aged men in black suits spoke in low voices. The badges pinned to their chests identified them as high-ranking South Korean officials.
One of them had graying temples and a deeply furrowed brow. He kept glancing up at the Ghost Building, his eyes full of anxiety.
"Master Daozhen, are you sure this will be all right? This is already the