Acute myocardial infarction was the cause of death identified by the forensic examiner, but no one could explain why a perfectly healthy person would suddenly die of a heart attack.
I found the newspaper from that day, scanned it roughly, stuffed it into my pocket, grabbed my equipment, and hurried out.
"I don't believe in ghosts in this world unless… I see one with my own eyes."
To save time, I hailed a taxi, and coincidentally, the driver was the same balding uncle from before.
"Yo, streamer, just handed over the car and met you. What a coincidence!"
"Anxin Inn in the northern suburbs, please drive faster." I had no mood to chat with anyone at the moment; my mind was full of the live - streaming task from the Underworld Show.
Why had they chosen that place? Who was the woman who had called me before?
"I heard someone died at Anxin Inn not long ago. Streamer, you really know how to pick places." The driver uncle was very talkative, but he didn't know how to read social cues: "You're lucky to have met me. Other drivers would definitely refuse to take you. Did you know it's all over the internet that the tenant didn't die by accident but was scared to death? Tsk tsk, that place is really eerie. A few years ago, someone even disappeared there for no reason…"
The balding uncle got more and more excited as he spoke. I really wanted to ask him, do you consider my feelings?
"Uncle, my live stream might be different from what you imagine. Can you let me be quiet for a while?"
"What's so different? I've seen plenty of young folks like you—just singing, dancing, bragging, and playing games. By the way, where do you stream? Uncle will go and support you."
"No need for support. If you ever see my live stream one day, please remember to call the police for me, because a lot of things in it might not be just for show." I couldn't actively reveal the existence of the Underworld Show; it was the first rule in the contract.
Sighing, I took out that eight - inch large - screen phone, looked at the three solitary icons on it, and finally clicked on the third app—the black - and - white photo of myself.
"Welcome to the Underworld Show. The live - streaming task has been released. Come and name your live stream room."
No matter the form of live streaming, the fundamental purpose is to catch people's attention and attract viewers. Based on this prerequisite, a name that can make people's eyes light up is naturally essential.
I recalled what the paper - man interviewer had once said: "Active in the midnight shadows, hitting the scariest horrors of this city—don't you think that's exciting?"
"Since it's about pursuing excitement, why not choose a name full of gimmicks?" I raised my hand and typed four words in the blank space—Super Scary!
"Naming successful. Do you want to start today's live stream?"
After thinking for a long time, I still clicked "No." For no other reason, the uncle was still in the car, and there was no need to involve him.
"Master, drive faster. I don't have much time left…"
Anxin Inn was located in the northern suburbs of Jiangcheng, next to Hen Mountain Prison. The area was sparsely populated, with only a few migrant workers choosing to live there because of the cheap rent.
The buildings on both sides gradually decreased, the vibrant city had left me behind, and the solid, clean concrete road had turned into a bumpy dirt road.
"Streamer, see that sign? That's Anxin Inn. Why don't I stop here? It'll be hard to turn around further ahead." The balding uncle parked the car on the side of the road, clearly unwilling to drive any closer.
I looked in the direction he pointed. About tens of meters away was a three - story old building. The sign on the roof was made of colorful small light bulbs, some of which were broken, making the name look like "Female Heart Inn" instead of "Anxin."
"The bulbs must be broken," the uncle explained, handing me a cigarette. "Take care of yourself. I heard supernatural things can't stand the smell of smoke. Uncle can only help you this far."
Shaking my head with a bitter smile, I paid the fare and got out of the taxi with my black leather suitcase.
Looking around, there wasn't a single person in sight. For hundreds of meters around, only the "Anxin Inn" (misread as "Female Heart" due to broken bulbs) emitted a faint, eerie red light.
"Maybe I should call the police?"
Before I could take out my phone, the roar of an engine suddenly sounded beside me, dust flew up, and when I looked again, the balding uncle had driven the taxi hundreds of meters away.
"Damn it…"
The uncle had fled decisively. Now I had no way to get back to the city even if I wanted to.
Carrying the suitcase on my back, I staggered forward on the dirt road. A true warrior must not only dare to face a bleak life but also learn to deal with unreliable allies.
By the faint light of my phone screen, the legendary dilapidated inn finally fully appeared before my eyes.
It was a three - story standalone building with two stairwells on the left and right. The steps were piled with uncleaned garbage, and the corner still had the police cordon used in investigations—specifically the dark blue and white cordon for homicide cases, not the yellow and white construction kind.
"Such things weren't even recycled?" An ordinary person might not feel anything unusual, but having studied at the police academy for a few years, I had already labeled this place as associated with murder and the supernatural.
"Is anyone here? I want to check in." The stairs were narrow, and I didn't see the front desk until I reached the second floor.
On the counter covered in oil stains and dirt, there was an open notebook with messy records of tenants' information and ID numbers, the handwriting so scrawled it looked like a primary school student's doodle.
"Who still keeps handwritten records in this day and age?" I flipped through it casually. The earliest check - in record was a week ago: "So I'm the only tenant in the entire building right now…"
"Cough cough…" The notebook was pressed down by five skinny fingers, and an old man with almost no hair stood up behind the front desk: "Want to check in? Alone?"
His aged voice was like a candle in the wind, with an undisguised weakness. I casually took a step back, memorizing the old man's face with my peripheral vision: light eyebrows, sparse age spots on the left half of his face, and a patch of burn scars the size of a fist on the right side.
"Yes, alone." The old man's appearance was the kind you'd never forget after one look. To be honest, even before the live stream started, I was already feeling a creeping sense of dread.
"Let me see your ID for registration. A single room is 35 yuan a night. No deposit, just don't break anything in the room." After registering, the old man handed me a key and shouted towards the dim corridor: "Old woman, take the guest to room 103 and bring a pot of boiling water."
"103?" The live - streaming task from the Underworld Show was to check into room 203. I frowned: "Boss, can you change my room?"
"Sure, which room do you want?"
"203."
A loud "snap!" echoed as the key in the old man's hand fell straight to the concrete floor, his reaction taking me by surprise.
"What's wrong? Can't that room be occupied?" I kept a calm expression, but my hands had slipped into my pants pockets, one clutching a talisman, the other gripping my phone.
"It can be occupied… It's just that someone died here a few months ago, and the dead person's room was right across from 203…"
"What's there to be afraid of? They didn't die in that room exactly." I pretended to be relaxed: "I'll take that room. Boss, don't be superstitious. We should believe in science."
"Okay, okay…" As the old man looked for the key to room 203, I squatted down to help him pick up the key to 103 that had fallen to the ground, but when I looked down, I noticed something strange—the old man was wearing rubber shoes covered in dirt.
"It's indoors. Why is he wearing rubber shoes?"
"Come on, I'll show you the room." It was an old woman speaking, carrying a thermos flask in one hand. Although she was about the same age as the old man, she looked short, plump, and strong, with quite a bit of strength.
I left the key on the front desk, picked up the suitcase, and followed the old woman to the third floor.
"Aren't we going to 203? Why are we going to the third floor?" Related to the Underworld Show's task, I didn't dare to be the slightest bit careless, afraid of making a mistake.
"The first floor isn't for guests. Room 103 is on the second floor, and room 203 is on the third floor."
It felt like we walked for a long time. There was only one light bulb at the corner of the corridor, which flickered on and off, sometimes going out on its own and then inexplicably turning back on.
"Here we are." The old woman inserted the key into the door lock and pointed to the number on the door—203.
"Okay, thank you for your trouble."
As I was about to push the door open, the old woman's muttering voice sounded behind me: "Eh, this isn't the city. Don't run around at night. If…"
"If what?"
"If you hear knocking on the door or any strange sounds after midnight, just pretend you don't hear them and don't come out no matter what."