The building was truly vast. It had not looked nearly this large from outside, but inside, it felt as though space itself had changed. Forward, backward, around corners, up the stairs-everything within sight looked vaguely familiar, like a maze.
The crows Anbers had brought flew around the sprawling building, watching the show. Xie De had originally thought there was only one, but a closer look revealed several crows taking turns flying past him.
He could not even count how many there were.
But their presence filled the building's emptiness, keeping its dark, lonely atmosphere from descending into utter desolation.
Xie De and Beiwei walked through the building's Eastern District. The numbers on the doors kept changing, and any door they opened revealed nothing but a room strewn with wreckage.
Sometimes a screeching bat would burst out, swooping upward before swiftly flying into the darkness beyond the corridor's lights.
Perhaps because this instance had been activated independently and had even escaped 730's control, Xie De could not make out the direction of the red threads entwined around its rules.
That left them stumbling around like headless chickens. They knew Huang Zhuowang was somewhere in this space, yet could find no trace of him.
Worse still, every clue here was muddled, and there was no clear objective.
"Mr. 39, look."
Beiwei had retrieved a notebook from one of the rooms. It had been hidden beneath an iron bed frame in a very discreet spot, covered in moss and mold. Even the writing was as blurry as the world seen through eyes with severe myopia.
The number on this room's door was 018, which inevitably reminded Xie De of the eighteen levels of hell.
Beiwei placed the notebook by the window and carefully examined its writing in the light filtering through.
Xie De