Nightmare Onslaught - Chapter 13 - Slippers

“People?” Chen Xiaomeng’s eyes widened.

“That’s right,” Nuan-Jie instinctively tightened her collar, saying with trepidation, “Sometimes they’re scarier than ghosts.”

The fire in the fireplace burned vigorously, illuminating half the living room.

Fan Li, sitting in front of the fireplace, had a sullen expression, occasionally adding a few pieces of firewood to the flames.

He was well aware of the reason why Nuan-Jie insisted on driving him out.

The ghosts in this villa were killed by two men, so the targets of their revenge were also men.

The already dead middle-aged man and Xie Yu were examples of this.

Thinking of this, Fan Li grabbed two pieces of firewood with his large hands and tossed them into the fireplace.

The flames grew even stronger.

It seemed that only this could dispel the chill in his heart.

From the current situation, the course of events was already fairly clear; in other words, the task was nearing its end. But the closer they got to that point, the more manic the ghost would become.

Something was bound to happen tonight.

The only question was who would die.

And it was precisely because he understood this that he refused Fatty’s plan for everyone to sleep together.

The odds of encountering a ghost alone were one in three, but if he grouped with the two of them, that would become one hundred percent.

A surge of fear flickered in his eyes at the thought of being targeted by a ghost. Ghosts rarely killed more than one person at a time, but it had happened before.

Moreover, he had his own plan.

He was confident that if he stayed here, he could survive until dawn.

His gaze gradually shifted to the fire inside the fireplace.

Current evidence suggested that the ghost was likely drowned in life, and before him was a roaring blaze.

In the study, Fatty crouched in the darkness, barely daring to breathe.

Until he could no longer hold back and stretched his neck closer to where Jiang Cheng was sitting, whispering very softly, “Do you think if we hide here, the ghost won’t know we’re here?”

“I don’t know.”

Fatty felt a little relieved, “That’s good.”

“I said I don’t know,” Jiang Cheng replied in a measured tone.

Having spent a lot of time with Jiang Cheng, Fatty’s mental resilience had strengthened significantly. This time, he only trembled for less than five seconds before he could communicate like a normal person again.

“Seriously, bro,” Fatty stared at Jiang Cheng, swallowing hard, “I think you’re not an ordinary person. When that ghost came out yesterday, I was petrified, yet you even remembered what shoes she was wearing.”

“You must not be a model; you’re a police officer, right?”

Fatty grew more convinced by his own theory as he spoke, his expression lighting up with excitement.

But Jiang Cheng cast him a glance and said, “Do you think just believing I’m a police officer will save your life? Or that flashing a badge will stop the ghost from killing us?”

The flicker of hope on Fatty’s face was quickly extinguished. Deflated, he muttered with resignation, “So what you’re saying is, we’re as good as dead, right?”

Before Jiang Cheng could respond, Fatty waved his hand to cut him off and added bitterly, “I bet you’re about to say it’s not ‘we’-it’s just me who’s doomed. Am I right?”

Jiang Cheng reluctantly fell silent.

After a brief pause, he eventually spoke again, “Still, Fatty, you don’t have to be so pessimistic. There’s a chance things might turn around.”

When Fatty raised his head, seemingly ready to reply, Jiang Cheng suddenly gestured for him to stay quiet. Fatty immediately complied, falling silent.

One minute passed.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes went by, and Fatty still didn’t hear anything, nor did anything unusual happen in the room.

His nerves were stretched taut, his ears practically twitching to pick up the faintest sound.

Then Jiang Cheng stood up from his chair, his sharp gaze darting toward the desk. Fatty heard him mumble something about how strange it was that there still wasn’t any movement.

“Wait, are you seriously waiting for a ghost to show up, brother?” Fatty stammered, his voice rising with incredulity.

“Don’t talk,” Jiang Cheng replied, frowning as he headed toward the door. “Stay here-I’m going out to check.”

Fatty hurried after him, almost tripping over himself. “No, please, let’s stick together!”

Jiang Cheng and Fatty stepped into the corridor. The overhead light was barely flickering, casting a sickly glow.

Without hesitation, Jiang Cheng strode straight to the master bedroom and knocked softly on the door.

A few seconds later, a cautious woman’s voice called from inside, “Who?”

“It’s me,” Jiang Cheng replied. “Hao Shuai.”

“What do you want?”

Jiang Cheng spoke seriously, “I believe Fan Li may have had an accident.”

At that, the door opened slightly-but only wide enough to reveal a narrow gap, through which Nuan-Jie’s wary eye peered. “How do you know?”

Jiang Cheng’s gaze flicked toward the end of the corridor near the staircase before snapping back quickly. “Let’s talk inside-it’s not safe out here.”

Nuan-Jie sized up both Jiang Cheng and Fatty through the door’s slit. After hesitating for a moment, she finally nodded. “Alright.”

The door swung open.

Nuan-Jie stood just inside.

Nobody dared turn on the lights, so the room remained pitch-black.

Fatty’s expression turned taut when he heard Jiang Cheng declare that Fan Li had likely met with misfortune. Though unsure how Jiang Cheng had reached this conclusion, Fatty chose, curiously, to believe him without question.

Jiang Cheng stepped inside first, Fatty following close behind.

Just as Jiang Cheng was about to step through the doorway, his body suddenly froze mid-motion. He stopped abruptly at the entrance, causing Fatty, who was tailing close behind, to bump straight into him.

Before Fatty could ask what was wrong, Jiang Cheng quickly withdrew back into the corridor. At the same time, he grabbed Fatty’s shoulder, pulling him along.

Nuan-Jie had already made way for them to enter. “Hurry up! What are you dawdling for?” she urged.

She kept glancing anxiously towards the far end of the corridor, as if expecting something to appear there at any moment.

“I forgot something important in my room,” Jiang Cheng suddenly said. “I’ll go back and grab it.”

Before Nuan-Jie could react, Jiang Cheng placed one hand firmly on Fatty’s shoulder. Turning swiftly, both men began walking briskly back toward the opposite end of the corridor.

Fatty hadn’t expected Jiang Cheng, who appeared so thin and wiry, to have such strength. He practically stumbled along, being half-dragged in the other man’s grip.

His mind was blank with confusion.

But in that moment, he wisely chose to remain silent. It wasn’t until they reached the bend near the corridor and staircase that Jiang Cheng pulled him into the shadows to quickly hide.

“What did you notice?” Fatty asked, breathing heavily.

He noticed a few beads of sweat rolling down the side of Jiang Cheng’s face.

Jiang Cheng motioned for him to keep quiet, then leaned close to the wall of the corridor, as if listening for something. After a few tense minutes, the color began to return to his face.

“There’s something off about Nuan-Jie,” Jiang Cheng murmured, keeping his voice low.

Fatty’s face twitched nervously, the flesh around his cheek shaking. “What do you mean ‘off’?”

“She’s wearing slippers.”

“Slippers?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng nodded. “I noticed it as I was about to step inside earlier.”

He continued, “You know how dangerous this villa is. At any moment, we could be facing an attack from vengeful spirits. Why would she take off proper shoes and switch to slippers, which make it harder to move quickly?”