The elevator doors slowly opened, revealing a dimly lit and eerie corridor before Zhou Chen.
'So I've really run into something strange...' The corner of Zhou Chen's eye twitched. He didn't hastily step out of the elevator, instead choosing to observe cautiously.
The corridor walls were covered in vintage, vertically striped wallpaper, lit by round, orange lamps overhead. The red carpet on the floor looked quite old, covered in dust, stains, and debris, its former luster gone. It bore the clear, natural marks of foot traffic. The rooms on both sides featured uniform, European-style wooden doors with room numbers like "401" and "402" continuing onward. The overall style was steeped in vintage nostalgia.
At first glance, it looked no different from a normal hotel. But what was strange was that the corridor seemed to stretch on infinitely. The doors on either side extended endlessly into the distance, so far that even with his vision, Zhou Chen couldn't see the end.
