By the time the afternoon gathering rolled around—that was at seven thirty—there were still more than three hours to go. Yet Captain Huang and Manager Liu had already gathered in Conference Room 201 on the second floor of the Haunted Hotel.
Quite a few employees from the Paranormal Control Bureau were busy setting things up inside and outside the conference room. As the two marked Defilers, Captain Huang and Manager Liu, who was likewise a "victim," sat together in mutual commiseration, drinking tea and chatting.
Of course, they weren't leisurely brewing tea like Manager Liu had in his office. They'd just poured instant black tea into glass cups, and neither of them seemed to have touched his much.
Whether they disliked the tea or were fretting over their lives was anyone's guess.
A faint sandalwood scent hung in the conference room, mingled with a trace of blood that came and went.
Captain Huang knew the Haunted Hotel was like this. Perhaps because so many strange things had gathered there, the air always carried a jumble of odd smells.
"..."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping unconsciously on the tabletop in a somewhat erratic rhythm.
The sun hadn't set yet, but the sky outside was unusually gloomy. There was no sign of the sun, and the low-hanging clouds looked ready to come crashing down at any moment, as if a torrential downpour were imminent.
"..."
Manager Liu, who was a little on the plump side, sat beside Captain Huang, his heavy arm draped around the captain's shoulders. The tea in front of him had gone cold, but he kept staring at the cup as if lost in thought.
"Heh—"
At last, after sitting side by side in silence for a while, Captain Huang let out a mocking laugh and