The last flight of stairs leading to the Thirty-First Floor was blocked by a layer of fog thicker, blacker, and heavier than before. Something moved inside it—not wandering souls, but something bigger, fiercer, and more evil.
Chen Hao stopped and looked back at Chen Siyao.
"The last floor," he said softly. "What's in there is different from what we've faced so far."
Chen Siyao tightened her grip on the Parasol Wood sword. "I know."
"Are you scared?"
"No." She looked at the black fog, her gaze firmer than ever. "Sister Xue is still in there. I'm going to save her."
Chen Hao looked at her, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. Without another word, he turned and walked into the black fog. Chen Siyao and Yang Wanqing followed.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Qian Hong stood guard at the building's entrance with the security guards and the rescue workers who had arrived. Watching the livestream, he finally felt the weight lift from his heart.
He had thought Chen Siyao was just an ordinary young girl, utterly incapable of dealing with these dark spirits.
He had never expected her to fight her way through and destroy so many Vengeful Ghosts. His admiration for Chen Hao deepened, and he privately thanked his luck that he had not offended this High God who kept his true power hidden.
The Thirty-First Floor.
The corridor was longer and darker than those on the two floors below. Every light was out, even the exit signs. Only an emergency light at the far end gave off a faint glow, on the verge of dying.
There were no scattered belongings, no bloodstains, no scratch marks—nothing at all. The corridor was as clean as if it had just been swept, but that cleanliness was unnatural, as though something had erased everything.