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Zhiqing, Ziya, and Xiao Ranhong shouted loudly for Li Mao, but he remained unresponsive. Suddenly, a figure wrapped in a black cloak appeared behind him, raising a dagger and cruelly slicing through the muscles of his back, opening him up from behind. Li Mao flailed his fists in aimless struggle, blood spilling out like water, soaking the ground and staining his legs and body. His eyes widened in shock, yet he could not see where the enemy was. His powerful arms felt weak and ineffective; at that moment, he was engulfed by an overwhelming fear. The coldness creeping from his back rendered him numb, followed by a pain that pierced deep into his heart. Li Mao's roar echoed like that of an enraged lion.
In the midst of the pain, memories suddenly flooded back to him—his parents' kind faces appeared in his mind. He remembered why his father had named him Li Mao; it was because they hoped their beloved son would grow up to be a polite and good child. Ironically, Li Mao had become anything but polite; he frequently made mistakes, from petty theft to serious offenses like injuring others and luring underage girls. His parents grew angry with him, stopped loving him, ignored him, and ceased to care about his well-being.
Li Mao recalled the last details of his time on the ground: a glass of alcohol, a puff of smoke, a hand caressing a woman's thigh... The memories played in his mind like a film reel—brief and unclear. An old man had invited him for drinks, a man with a head full of white hair...
Li Mao looked down at his own belly as his insides rolled out in steaming heaps from the gaping wound. The tearing pain forced him to gasp for breath and scream. He felt an emptiness in his chest and abdomen where his organs once were, while the pain from his back intensified. His hands were covered in blood, and he coughed up mouthfuls of it. He had no idea how he had been disemboweled; darkness surrounded him in the room, hiding threats everywhere. With a thud, Li Mao slammed against the transparent wall separating him from Ziya and the others, spraying blood onto the surface as he stared wide-eyed at them before slowly collapsing.
Zhiqing pounded on the bulletproof glass wall with her fists—one hit, two hits, three hits... until her knuckles throbbed painfully and blood began to seep out. The glass allowed those on the other side to observe every move of those trapped inside; however, Li Mao could not see them from this side. The thickness of the glass could withstand bullets fired from a .54 caliber pistol; it was primarily used for defense against intrusions or bank robberies. Monet shook his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of weakness as he watched Li Mao fall and saw that sinister figure beneath the cloak grinning wickedly before licking the blood off the blade of his dagger.
"Li Mao..." Ziya raised her hands as she felt the warm flow of blood around her. Her throat choked with emotion as tears blurred her vision. Analyzing with her extensive knowledge, she realized that Li Mao had recklessly entered a room filled with hidden enemies—there was no light inside, and that cloaked Demon Leader could harm Li Mao using infrared vision while he couldn't even approach the enemy. Such terrifying scenarios seemed only possible in movies; how could Ziya and Zhiqing be experiencing this firsthand?
What about those two shadows they had seen earlier? Zhiqing pondered this but overlooked one crucial detail: there were others present in this room who were also desperately searching for an exit.
Xiao Ranhong crouched on the ground in fear. "Ahhh... Oh... what kind of place is this?" The scent of death hung heavily in this eerie environment; Xiao Ranhong lost all desire to mock anyone as images of blood filled her mind along with Li Mao's terrified expression before death. After screaming in panic, an almost frenzied thought crossed her mind: she needed to escape quickly; she might be next to die. Without considering Zhiqing or her sister Ziya any further, she bolted out of the room.
"This is bad! Xiao Ranhong has run away; we can't let her leave us!" Zhiqing exclaimed urgently as Xiao Ranhong's sudden breakdown startled her into grabbing Ziya's hand and rushing towards the door. Just before exiting, she glanced back at the cloaked figure who gestured politely towards them. In that moment of distraction, Zhiqing thought: could he see them from another angle? But that question seemed trivial compared to finding Xiao Ranhong quickly. Time was not on their side; she pulled Ziya out into the corridor filled with flickering lights once more engulfed by fear. With each step they took, it felt as though they were stepping into a trap set by the Demon Leader.
The Demon Leader's goal was to lead them to their prey and kill them one by one so they could personally experience the terror of death. This was Zhiqing's analysis based on what had happened to the first woman who died; it seemed that this Demon Leader was well-versed in the storylines from Hell's Gate—a horror novel where characters faced various tortures arranged by hell's Demon Enforcers across different levels of hell. Most characters were heinous criminals who committed atrocious acts during their lives only to suffer endlessly in hell.
However, this book was meant by its author to convey a message against evil but had been twisted by villains for murder instead. As Zhiqing held onto Ziya's cold hand—feeling its slickness—he knew she must be terrified beyond measure but didn't know how to comfort her. He felt deep guilt for failing to protect her; their momentary carelessness had led them into this hellish house.
Zhiqing speculated about the peeling paint on the walls; these must be old houses without doubt. But why were they embedded underground? There was no sunlight yet fresh air flowed in—where did it come from? Without fresh air circulating here, perhaps they would only survive until Sunday at most alongside others trapped here. Moreover, the air was thin and tainted with other pollutants—a moldy stench mixed with nauseating scents of blood—and there lingered an indescribable odor reminiscent of something rotting or burnt garbage.
"Where could she have gone?" Ziya's voice trembled with a hint of tears, pulling Zhiqing's thoughts back to reality.
"How about we check the nearby rooms one by one?" Zhiqing suggested, pushing open a door at the end of the corridor. As he peered inside, he noticed that the room was lit. The floor was scattered with bits of paper, and there were several desks along with a desktop computer. Zhiqing and Ziya cautiously stepped into the room, aware that there were a few windows against the wall, and they knew without looking that what lay beyond them was dirt.
As they stepped on the paper scraps, a rustling sound echoed beneath their feet. Ziya's heart raced, fearing they might encounter a fate similar to Li Mao's. Zhiqing scanned the surroundings warily, taking one step, then another, then a third... Just as they fully entered the room, the door suddenly slammed shut behind them with a loud bang.
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