Chapter Eight: Two Doors

Room 301—this was Ji Li’s quarters.

The second floor housed the spirits, while the third floor was reserved for the staff. As the acting manager, Ji Li’s room was situated at the forefront.

At this moment, a black shoulder bag filled with various tools lay quietly on the chair. Ji Li’s perpetually pale face was turned toward the windowsill.

In truth, Ji Li was striking in appearance, his sharp brows and bright eyes tinged with a unique melancholy. Yet that face was shrouded in gloom, its extreme pallor lending it a faintly eerie air.

“The time is nearly here. This time, with several newcomers to assist, we shouldn’t repeat past mistakes.” The cold, detached voice of his third persona echoed in his mind.

Immediately, it was drowned out by his second persona’s volatile temperament.

“Damn Tianhai, never letting me rest for a moment! Just got some good sleep, and here comes another mission. What a damn life-sucker!”

Ji Li said nothing, merely glanced at his watch, decisively grabbed the black bag, and stepped out.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

Standing alone in the silent corridor, Ji Li took out the hotel-issued phone and began tapping on the wall, producing the only sound in this still place.

At his summons, the neighboring door creaked open first, as if long awaiting him.

Inside stood Fang Shenyan in his signature Zhongshan suit, stepping out without a word, merely exchanging a distant glance with Ji Li through the air.

“Friends! It’s your daring Yu again! Every previous spirit exploration livestream failed, but this time is different!

Get the rockets and cruise ships ready—you’re all going to bleed out!”

Though Ji Li hadn’t yet seen him, he recognized Yu Guo’s voice. This newcomer was unlike anyone else; he seemed remarkably oblivious to nerves.

In this situation, Yu even started a live broadcast. Ji Li couldn’t tell if this was a blessing or a curse.

Finally, trembling, Ding Miaoxin and Cao Yuan emerged from their rooms. Their reactions felt genuinely human.

Each wore a face ashen with dread. The afternoon felt like doomsday. Since receiving Tianhai’s email, they had repeatedly sought Ji Li’s guidance, only to be met with disappointment.

To them, this mission seemed a path of no return.

Ding’s eyes were red-rimmed; Cao supported her, the two most fragile newcomers clinging to one another.

Ji Li glanced once and withdrew his gaze, saying nothing further, turning toward the hotel lobby.

The second floor remained silent, which furrowed Ji Li’s brow. He paused briefly, then shook his head and ignored it.

Typically, when staff went on missions, the spirits would not flee—this was an unspoken rule passed down among managers.

Five people seemed numerous but were actually a scattered group.

Standing on the street, Ji Li pondered briefly before deciding against splitting into cars. Instead, he hired a van to take them all together.

A gentle autumn breeze stirred; the night was fine. The street bustled with passersby, fleeting shadows rushing past Ji Li.

“My child is only four. His father is away most of the time. If I don’t survive this, I won’t even see them one last time,” Ding Miaoxin said tearfully.

Cao Yuan comforted her softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Brother Ji, do you think all five of us will make it out alive?

Miaoxin and I are just ordinary people—we’ve never done anything wrong. Do we really have to suffer this injustice...?”

Ji Li listened quietly, his gaze fixed outside the window.

Earlier that afternoon, he had compared the mission emails with the newcomers.

Since he was the acting manager, he was privy to information about a “sixth member” filling a vacancy.

Yet the others’ mission details omitted this; they believed only five were assigned.

He sighed inwardly. Matters of family and emotion were foreign to him.

Having lost all memory, he retained only the instinct for normal life, but feelings about family and affection eluded him completely.

It was as if he had appeared from nowhere, incapable of understanding the deep bonds ordinary people clung to.

When Cao Yuan asked again, Ji Li could only respond coldly: “Focus your mind. We’re almost there.”

Fang Shenyan sat upright like an ancient pine, hearing Ji Li’s words, then turned stiffly to ask:

“How confident are you that you’ll survive?”

“I don’t know. This is the first mission since we became a one-star hotel. The difficulty is incomparable. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been brought in.”

Fang Shenyan nodded silently.

Inside the cramped van, except for the sweating driver, only Yu Guo continued to chatter nonsense to his livestream audience.

...

“Brothers! I’m here!”

Without waiting for Ji Li, Yu Guo jumped down, holding up his phone, unafraid of the supernatural ahead.

“Look, this is Sanhe Community in the Eastern Suburb—old and dilapidated, probably built over a decade ago.

We’re heading to Unit 4, Room 701, Building 2. But from outside, Building 2 has the fewest residents; at eight o’clock, not a single light is on.

I’ve heard Room 701 is a haunted house—once you go in, you can’t come out alive.

But I, Yu Daring, don’t believe in that! I’m risking my life for you all. Brothers, show some support, clear out the inventory.

Shout our motto: To get ahead, a man must boldly push forward!

I’m going in!”

Ding Miaoxin glared at Yu’s absurd words; Cao Yuan scratched his head awkwardly.

Ji Li had considered stopping Yu’s antics but then thought it might be a blessing—his few words had broken the heavy silence.

Only the second persona grunted roughly: “Damn fool.”

“The time is near. Let’s head to 701.”

Walking through the dust-laden old stairwell, Ji Li wiped the faded flyers plastered on the walls, lingering on each floor.

Every floor had two rooms, seemingly inhabited; trash lay by the doors.

Yet from outside, no lights shone. How to explain this contradiction?

...

The echo of five pairs of weary footsteps and labored breaths filled the cramped space.

Ji Li felt no fear about entering Room 701 but still had yet to see the “sixth member” mentioned in the hotel email.

“Could they be waiting for me inside?”

A few steps later, the five arrived at Room 701.

From the outside, it looked remarkably plain. The door bore couplets and New Year paintings, not old or decrepit.

A doormat lay at the entrance, indicating it was lived in.

Ji Li glanced at the opposite door, Room 702—locked tight, with a pink teddy bear hanging on it.

It suggested a young woman with a girlish heart lived there.

This puzzled him. The mission was at 701, yet this place hardly seemed haunted.

Not only was it occupied, but neighbors were present too. If there were truly paranormal events, Building 2 would have long since been evacuated.

“We’ve reached the site. How do we get in?” Cao Yuan asked timidly from the crowd.

Ji Li frowned, uncertain.

But beside him, Fang Shenyan suddenly bent down and lifted the doormat, producing a bronze key in surprise.

He placed it before Ji Li.

Ji Li looked at the taciturn man in bewilderment.

“Don’t look at me. Most people hide a spare key under the doormat—I was just trying.”

Ji Li, inexperienced in such matters, took the key and inserted it into the lock, twisting gently. With a click, the door unlocked.

“Squeak...”

The mission site finally revealed a narrow gap, awaiting the living to enter.

Ji Li inhaled deeply, saying nothing further, and led the way inside.

The others hesitated or struggled but all entered before the mission time limit.

Ji Li stood tall at the threshold, watching the door swing shut.

Bang!

The door to 701 slammed closed, and all the living had arrived at the mission site.

But just then, the third persona muttered mysteriously:

“The door closed,

but I heard two overlapping closing sounds…”