"Glug, glug..."

"Glug, glug..."

"The sound of wheels rolling echoed down the corridor, stopping in front of the interrogation room. A police officer stepped forward, opened the door, and found no one there, only a suitcase standing outside."

"The new recruits are so irresponsible, sending evidence like this?"

"The officer who opened the door didn't pay much attention. After muttering a few words under his breath, he picked up the suitcase and casually placed it against the wall."

"Before the interrogation began, they had notified the evidence room officers, saying that they would likely use the evidence to completely break the suspect's psychological defenses."

"But just as the officer turned back, ready to continue, he noticed that A-Qiang's face had changed. He was no longer in that crazy, erratic state, but staring straight ahead with both eyes."

"Following his gaze, he realized that A-Qiang was looking at the suitcase."

"But soon, A-Qiang began to twist and struggle, his body constantly leaning back as if trying desperately to retreat, to get away from something."

"But he was locked in the chair, so it was all in vain. He made incomprehensible whooping sounds, his eyes wide as if he had seen an extremely terrifying sight."

"This scene also startled the two police officers, but they looked around and saw nothing."

"Everything nearby was normal. The suitcase, as evidence, stood quietly against the wall, and nothing happened."

"But in A-Qiang's eyes, it wasn't like that."

"He saw a small gap in the zipper of the suitcase. Through the gap, an eye, only the white of it, was staring coldly at him."

"Then, a hand reached out from the gap, a hand that had been soaked until it was pale white. The hand groped on the suitcase until it found the zipper."

"Then slowly, little by little, it unzipped the suitcase. As the suitcase opened wider and wider, a woman crawled out."

"But not crawling out as one would imagine. The woman's limbs were broken, her body twisted grotesquely, and as she crawled, the friction of her joints could be heard."

"Wet, sandy hair hung down, and through the gaps in her hair, a pair of venomous eyes could be seen."

"Facing those eyes, A-Qiang seemed to instantly understand something. He began to search all over his body, and found that on the middle finger of his left hand, he somehow had a ring."

"It was the gemstone ring, the one taken from the corpse's hand!"

"A-Qiang went crazy, trying to take off the ring and give it back to the woman, but the ring was like it had grown on his hand, no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't budge."

"Seeing the woman getting closer and closer, her hand missing a middle finger about to grab his foot, A-Qiang finally broke down. He roared and bit the finger wearing the ring."

"The two police officers also reacted at this moment and immediately grabbed A-Qiang's hand, wanting to restrain him."

"But at this moment, A-Qiang was as strong as an ox. The two police officers couldn't hold him down at all. With a crunching sound that made one's teeth ache, A-Qiang held his severed finger, his mouth and face covered in blood, laughing like a madman."

"Haha, I got it off, the ring...the ring is yours, don't look for me anymore, you won't look for me anymore!"

"After saying that, he threw the finger, still wearing the ring, hard at the suitcase."

"Finally, the woman who crawled out of the suitcase disappeared, and A-Qiang gradually calmed down."

"Just as the two police officers breathed a sigh of relief, ready to call a doctor, A-Qiang trembled violently, as if experiencing a final burst of energy. Then, not long after, his entire body suddenly stiffened, and after a moment, his head tilted, and he stopped moving."

"Died... died?" A woman asked softly. The ending of this story seemed a bit rushed, and everyone felt unsatisfied.

The man in the tracksuit didn't answer immediately. After a long while, he said in an uncomfortable voice, "This matter was eventually classified as the suspect being too nervous during the interrogation and dying of a sudden heart attack, but the police searched the entire scene and couldn't find the severed finger."

After speaking, the man in the tracksuit reached out and adjusted his collar. In the dim light, Jiang Cheng saw that the man only had 4 fingers on his left hand adjusting his collar.

He just happened to be missing a middle finger.

Combining this with the story the man had told earlier, Jiang Cheng could confirm that A-Qiang, the protagonist in the man's story, was the man himself.

Not only him, but also the previous few people who told ghost stories were the same.

The first story, the female student, ended abruptly after she mentioned that something came out of the closet behind her.

In Jiang Cheng's opinion, there should have been a segment later, where the female student, like her roommate, was dragged into the closet and killed by the ghost hiding inside.

The second story's writer was the tall, thin man telling the story himself.

Not only did his temperament match, but he also carried a backpack, with the zipper not fully closed, revealing the laptop inside.

More importantly, he was also wearing a scarf, and from Jiang Cheng's angle, he could just see the dark purple strangulation marks revealed beneath the scarf.

And in his story, the ghost was hanged in the same way.

As for the woman in red who told the third story, she was the Xiao Lan in the story who made a deal with the ghost. Xiao Lan's legs were fine in the story, but the woman in red walked strangely.

So... those in front of them were not people, but ghosts!

These ghosts were telling their own ghost stories.

"These are all wonderful stories, but compared to the story I'm about to tell, they're still a bit lacking." The last man walked out of the shadows.

The man was relatively short and dressed very ordinarily, and he kept his head lowered, so no one could see his face clearly.

More strangely, the man's head swayed, as if it would fall off his neck at any moment.

Hearing his words, a strange look flashed in the eyes of the few who had finished telling their ghost stories. From their faces, Jiang Cheng sensed dissatisfaction.

Compared to the ghost stories they told, Jiang Cheng was more interested in why they came here late at night, and judging from their appearance, it seemed like they were comparing which ghost story was more terrifying.

A group of ghosts gathered together, comparing who died more miserably and bizarrely, Jiang Cheng found it difficult to understand.

"Are ghosts also engaging in such intense internal competition?"

Without giving Jiang Cheng a chance to continue thinking, the short, stout man spoke. Unlike his appearance, his voice was very pleasant, with a touch of smoky texture: "The name of the story I'm going to tell is 'The Guest'."

"The protagonist in the story is named A-Zhe, 35 years old, and he's a bar singer."

"A-Zhe has a son, just turned 4 years old. A-Zhe loves his son very much, but because of his work, he has very little time to spend with his son, and his son has always been taken care of by his mother-in-law."