I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

The melancholy, strange hand that was packing things paused for a moment.

He straightened up, turned his head, looked at Zhang Yangqing, and a glint of recollection flashed in his eyes: "A woman came by and tried to attack me, but I chased her away. I must say, she was quite skilled and managed to leave alive."

Zhang Yangqing continued, "What did she look like when she arrived? Was she missing an arm or a leg?"

The melancholy man shook his head: "No, but she is very beautiful."

He picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the ground and threw it at Zhang Yangqing.

The crumpled paper traced an arc in the air before landing in Zhang Yangqing's hand: "This is what she looks like."

Zhang Yangqing unfolded the paper ball. On the paper was a drawing of a woman with a single ponytail, a pencil sketch with smooth lines and clear light and shadow.

The woman had delicate features, and her eyes and brows exuded a heroic air.

She is indeed very pretty, but to be precise, she's a little less pretty than a beauty with almond-shaped eyes.

But the beauty with peach blossom eyes was already at the level of a world-class beauty, only slightly inferior to her, and was already very beautiful.

Zhang Yangqing folded the paper and put it in his pocket; this was a clue.

Now that the camera had been repaired, Zhang Yangqing planned to leave.

He walked to the door, and just as he took a step out, he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned around, his expression melancholic and eerie as he followed, holding the Walkman in his hand, the earphones hanging around his neck, his black trench coat fluttering slightly in the corridor breeze.

Zhang Yangqing looked at him, a hint of doubt in her eyes: "What are you doing here with me?"

He gave a melancholic, enigmatic laugh—a faint but genuine one: "Didn't you say you'd let me forge my own path in life? I find it interesting to be around you. You wouldn't mind if I followed you, would you?"

Zhang Yangqing shrugged: "Let's go then."

Why would he refuse free thugs?

Zhang Yangqing refused to team up with the bandaged security guard because they were both human and their professions might conflict.

Their presence may be a matter of ebb and flow.

Before things are completely certain, Zhang Yangqing will eliminate any potential dangers; that's just his style.

But his melancholy and eeriness didn't conflict with his presence; the eeriness wouldn't affect the monitor's presence, so Zhang Yangqing didn't mind.

On the way back to the monitoring room, the melancholy and eerie creature, unlike its previous melancholy, began chattering and asking all sorts of questions.

He asked Zhang Yangqing how he got here, where he had been, and if he had encountered anything interesting.

His tone was excited, like a child going on a long trip for the first time.

Zhang Yangqing was puzzled. "Why do I feel like you're the chosen one? Are you gathering intelligence to clear the game or something?"

However, the melancholy and eerie one is now a curious child, and he casually mentioned some things about his time on the Undying Mountain.

The Undying Mountain is a higher-dimensional world, a transit point for countless planes.

He saw many strange things and many strange people there.

The melancholy eerie man's eyes lit up: "Wow, that place must be interesting. When are you taking me along?"

His tone carried an eager anticipation.

As Zhang Yangqing walked, he said, "Let me finish up first; I still have a lot to do."

Back in the monitoring room, of the eight surveillance cameras, five are currently lit: the laundry room, the toilet, the restaurant, the library, and the art gallery.

There are still three missing. He doesn't know where the remaining three are, but he's not in a hurry. He'll just follow the instructions.

A melancholic and eerie feeling crept into the monitoring room for the first time, as he curiously looked around.

He saw his gallery on the surveillance footage, saw the paintings still hanging on the wall, and saw the safe still standing in the corner.

The melancholy eeriness leaned closer to the screen, looked at it carefully for a while, then lost interest, leaned against the wall, put the earphones in his ears, and started listening to music.

Zhang Yangqing sat in the chair, staring at the monitor screen.

He followed Rule 2, watching and waiting.

Time passed second by second, and his eyes began to sting and feel dry.

At the twenty-first minute, a person appeared in the footage from the laundry room.

It's not eerie, it's human, or at least it looks like human.

He had a buzz cut, wore dark clothes, and kept his head down, so his face was obscured. He moved quickly and hurriedly, as if he were in a rush.

The man with the crew cut walked up to a washing machine, took out a package from his pocket, and stuffed it into the washing machine.

Then he pressed the start button, and the washing machine started spinning.

His movements were practiced; it wasn't the first time he'd done something like this.

But the man with the buzz cut was very nervous, looking around and occasionally glancing up at the corner of the wall before quickly looking down again.

He pressed the buttons on the washing machine several times before finally pressing the right one, as if afraid someone would see what he was doing.

In the 23rd minute, the man with the buzz cut looked up and glanced in the direction of the camera.

He froze, his pupils contracted sharply, and his expression changed from tense to surprised.

The man with the buzz cut realized that what he was doing was being seen by a camera.

He frantically tried to press the stop button on the washing machine, but the button was stuck and wouldn't go down.

It seems they want to take the contents out.

Zhang Yangqing suddenly stood up, his chair sliding backward a short distance before hitting the wall with a dull thud.

He rushed out of the monitoring room and ran towards the laundry room.

With a melancholic and strange expression, she took off her headphones and chased after him: "What happened?"

His footsteps echoed in the corridor, mingling with Zhang Yangqing's footsteps like a rapid drumbeat.

Zhang Yangqing didn't look back, saying as he ran, "That guy is problematic. My professional requirements tell me I have to take care of him."

Rule 2 clearly states that if you feel something in the picture is looking at you, immediately look away and try to get rid of it; avoidance will not solve the problem.

The two ran to the laundry room, but the door was open and the room was empty.

Only the washing machine was still running, the sound of its drum spinning echoing in the empty room.

Zhang Yangqing walked to the washing machine, bent down, and looked inside through the glass lid.

Inside the drum, a red liquid was churning; it wasn't water, it was blood.

The blood was so thick that you couldn't see what else was inside.

The inside of the washing machine was covered with bits of meat and cloth, the color and material of which were unrecognizable, indicating it had been soaked in blood for too long.

The melancholy-looking figure leaned closer, glanced at the subject, and frowned: "Huh, what's going on here?"

Zhang Yangqing didn't speak; he was thinking, piecing together clues in his mind.

This person has most likely committed murder.

He killed someone and then tried to impersonate that person's profession to obtain something.

So he had to wash the blood-stained clothes clean, destroy the evidence, and disguise himself as someone else.

This takes time, skill, and the ability to remain undetected.

But he was in such a hurry that he forgot to turn off the camera first.

He assumed the room's security camera was broken or off and wouldn't see him.

But Zhang Yangqing had already repaired the camera.

He saw it, so he ran.

Zhang Yangqing only shared these simple deductions with the melancholy and strange person.

Actually, I had many guesses in my mind: this crew-cut man was probably from the so-called third camp.

If it's something supernatural, just contaminate the person who was killed. A corpse is a corpse; there's no need to wash clothes or disguise it.

After its bizarre resurrection, it has no memory and is merely a killing machine. It kills without a second thought, not caring whether its clothes are clean or not.

But this person is different.

He is purposeful, methodical, and has a logical approach to action.

He knew what he was doing and what he was going to do next.

That's why the rules required Zhang Yangqing to deal with him quickly. (End of Chapter)