Now all of that was meaningless.

This was a brave child, much like the little beggar from before, especially with the final resolve in his eyes.

If Chu Jiu could hear his inner voice right now, he would surely urge him to be brave, to live on, and not to be shaken by his death.

Someone among them had to survive to end this nightmare.

Even if only one person remained.

Listening to the roars coming from above, the Fatty no longer hesitated, turning and running downstairs.

...

Looking at the woman lying on the ground, drenched in blood, the figure in the darkness breathed a long sigh, followed by violent coughing, with blood continuously spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Strangely, the man's blood seemed to be a strong acid, dripping onto the ground and instantly burning black holes in the wooden floor.

The air was filled with the mingled scent of fire and blood.

The man's right arm hung limply at his side, apparently broken. Compared to the woman in front of him, whose fate was unknown, he at least had half a life left.

Wei Jinting tore off the silk stocking from his head, revealing a face covered in bloodstains, one of which had almost split his brow bone.

"Well done," he said, staring at the woman.

The walls on both sides of the corridor, including the ceiling, had been completely destroyed in the previous battle, covered with hideous marks.

Some even looked like they had been left by the claws of giant beasts.

These short five minutes were a nightmarish memory for both of them.

But fortunately... it was over.

This woman named Wan Yuanning had burned out her last bit of strength, a strength that didn't belong to her in the first place, stolen from the devil by forcibly opening the door.

And now, she had to pay the price for her actions.

The side effects began to manifest, and the mutation on her body began to recede, her ferocious face returning to its baby fat.

Half of her face was shrouded in wisps of hair, the woman's figure curvaceous, creating a rather intriguing scene in the dim environment.

"Cough, cough..." she trembled slightly, spitting out black blood, her coveted sapphire blue eyes burned to ashes.

She was no longer a threat. Even if left unattended, she probably wouldn't last ten minutes.

Wei Jinting staggered over, finally crouching down and quietly scrutinizing this woman he found troublesome.

Blood flowed down Wei Jinting's ankle, each step feeling sticky, leaving a bloody footprint.

"I warned you, but you didn't listen," Wei Jinting paused for a moment. "As you are now, you'll either be directly devoured and die, or you'll survive, but the outcome awaiting you will be worse than death."

"You'll be corrupted, lose your mind." Wei Jinting suddenly lowered his voice: "This is the price you'll pay for your stupidity."

"But you're lucky to have met me, so..." he grinned, changing his tone, "You have a third option."

"The Night Watch is willing to sacrifice someone like you to snipe, there must be accurate intelligence." He looked down at Wan Yuanning's face, which twitched slightly in pain, and said, "You knew someone like me would come, didn't you?"

"This level of intelligence is only known to a very few people, you must have someone infiltrated within us." Wei Jinting said, "Let's make a deal, you tell me this person's name, and I'll help you through this ordeal."

"Not only can you survive, but... I can even help you seize a door and truly master that power."

His voice was persuasive, whether because of skill or his inherent ability.

In any case, his voice elicited a reaction from the woman. He saw the woman, on the verge of death, tremblingly reach out a hand, slender fingertips rolling with crimson blood beads.

Her vocal cords had been destroyed by the scorching filth blood, but she could still write with her hand.

Wei Jinting's breathing quickened. He had always suspected that a member of the Night Watch had infiltrated their ranks, and it seemed to be true.

After seeing the words written by the woman, Wei Jinting couldn't help but freeze, then his face instantly darkened, and he heard a hissing laugh in his ear.

A number 4 was clearly left on the ground.

The laughter grew more exaggerated and more ear-piercing. Wei Jinting's face was so gloomy that it could drip water.

The woman's eyes were ruined, her fair skin covered in bloodstains. She was curled up on the ground like a homeless stray dog.

Her whole body trembled slightly from the pain.

Yet such a wretched creature dared to laugh at him?

Wei Jinting stood up expressionlessly, staring at Wan Yuanning's half-exposed face, filled with mockery, then raised his foot and stomped hard on her head.

In the corridor, the laughter stopped abruptly.

...

"Hao Shuai is on the 8th floor?" Walking up the stairs, Jiao Tailang, who was constantly watching his surroundings, asked in a low voice to the Fatty beside him.

"Definitely," the Fatty's small eyes darted left and right.

"But he doesn't have this painting, going there is suicide," Jiao Tailang said, worried. He had a good impression of Hao Shuai.

"Don't worry, he runs faster than a dog and is smarter than a monkey. We could both die and he still wouldn't, and I bet he's probably hiding in an empty room near the 8th floor." The Fatty whispered, "He's not stupid, he knows to wait for us."

About ten minutes ago, the Fatty ran out of the office building, the scene in front of him exactly the same as what Jiao Tailang had seen before.

It was Peace Apartments.

As soon as he entered Building 3, he encountered Jiao Tailang hiding behind a stone pillar.

The two initially tested each other, and only after finding nothing unusual did they come together.

After a brief discussion, they decided to go to the 8th floor first.

Since he didn't know Hao Shuai well, Jiao Tailang tentatively believed the Fatty's words. On the way, the Fatty took the time to look at the painting in Jiao Tailang's hand.

The front and back of the painting depicted Wu, representing despair, and Wu, representing goodwill.

Without Jiao Tailang explaining, the overwhelming aura of despair almost suffocated him the moment he saw the black-clothed Wu in the painting.

It wasn't until Jiao Tailang quickly flipped the painting to the side of goodwill that the Fatty felt much better.

The two tiptoed to the 8th floor, which was very quiet, the depths of the corridor completely shrouded in darkness.

Unlike the rooms they lived in, this place was even older, the walls on both sides and the ceiling above seemed to have been soaked in water, with large patches of black mold.

If he had to describe it, the Fatty felt that time seemed to have paused here, the air filled with the rigid scent of years.

A few seconds later, a door not far away suddenly opened a crack, and then a hand stretched out, waving at them.

It was the Doctor!

The Fatty's face instantly lit up with surprise, but Jiao Tailang grabbed him, neither of them stepping into the corridor, merely standing outside the safety door.