"He should wake up now."
The moment the woman's voice fell—
The entire corridor went unnaturally silent.
Not because there was no sound.
But because—
Every sound had been forcefully suppressed.
As if something in the air was tightening, slowly closing in.
Lin Wan's heart clenched sharply.
She didn't speak.
She didn't move.
But she could feel it clearly—
The thing behind them had shifted.
Not footsteps.
Position.
It was closer.
Closer than before.
So close it felt like it was pressed against her back.
A cold sensation crept from the nape of her neck down her spine, like an icy snake slowly slithering downward.
Zhang's breathing had already become uneven.
"Lin Wan…" His voice trembled. "What do we—"
"Move," Lin Wan cut him off.
No turning back.
No explanation.
She stepped forward, heading toward the direction the woman had pointed—
The depths of the corridor.
The only path forward.
Zhang hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed.
Behind them, the woman remained where she stood.
She tilted her head slightly.
Watching them walk into the darkness.
A faint smile curved her lips.
As if she were sending them—
Into something that had long been waiting.
—
At the end of the corridor stood an iron door.
Half open.
Beyond it, a staircase descended downward.
Pitch-black.
Like a well with no bottom.
The flashlight beam reached in—but was swallowed almost instantly, illuminating only the first few steps.
"Down there?" Zhang asked in a low voice.
Lin Wan nodded.
"It wants us to go."
The air grew colder.
But there was no turning back.
One step.
Two.
Their footsteps echoed in the stairwell.
Hollow.
Heavy.
Each step felt like it landed directly on their own heartbeats.
The deeper they went, the colder it became.
The air thickened.
And the smell—
Rotting.
Damp walls mixed with something older.
Something metallic.
Something like dried blood.
Halfway down—
Lin Wan suddenly stopped.
"Wait."
Zhang halted immediately. "What is it?"
Lin Wan didn't look at him.
Her gaze was fixed ahead.
On the wall at the turn of the staircase.
There was something there.
Not a crack.
Not a stain.
But—
A shape.
A human-shaped outline.
As if someone had once been pressed into the wall.
From the inside.
Struggling.
The curve of shoulders.
The outline of arms.
Even the faint shape of a face.
Zhang's expression changed instantly.
"What the hell is that…?"
Lin Wan slowly raised her hand.
Her fingertips moved closer—
"Thud."
The wall bulged outward.
Suddenly.
Violently.
As if something inside had slammed against it.
Zhang stumbled back. "Shit!"
Lin Wan froze.
The next second—
The entire wall began to move.
Not as a whole.
But from within.
Patches.
Segments.
Like countless bodies were trapped inside.
Moving.
Twisting.
Pressing outward.
Arms.
Faces.
Torso shapes pushing against the surface—
Then retreating.
One face pressed so close it nearly broke through.
Blurred features.
But unmistakable—
Alive.
Struggling.
Screaming—
Silently.
The temperature plummeted.
Zhang's voice shook. "Those… are people?"
Lin Wan didn't answer.
Because she heard them.
Voices.
Not from outside.
From inside her head.
—"Help me…"
—"Don't leave…"
—"It's below…"
In an instant—
Pain exploded in her skull.
Her mind felt like it was being torn apart.
Her ability—
Was forcibly activated.
Not one voice.
Many.
Too many.
Layered.
Overlapping.
Chaotic.
Desperate.
"Ah—!"
Lin Wan clutched her head, staggering.
"Lin Wan!" Zhang grabbed her.
Her breathing was completely out of control.
Her vision blurred.
Darkness crept in—
And then—
She saw it.
Not the present.
The past.
The basement.
The same place.
The same wall.
Seven people.
Dragged inside.
Not walking.
Dragged.
Pulled.
As if the wall itself were alive.
Devouring them.
The last woman struggled violently.
She turned her head.
Her lips trembled.
She said—
"The seventh…"
The vision shattered.
Lin Wan snapped back, gasping for air.
Cold sweat slid down her face.
Her voice came out hoarse:
"It's not that something is in the basement."
Zhang froze. "What do you mean?"
Lin Wan slowly lifted her head.
Her gaze locked onto the wall—still pulsing faintly.
Her eyes turned cold.
Ice-cold.
Word by word, she said:
"It's this entire building—"
"It's 'it.'"
The moment her words fell—
A heavy sound echoed from below.
"Thud."
As if something—
Had landed.
Then—
From deeper within the darkness—
A voice.
Slow.
Clear.
Low.
Familiar.
"The eighth."
The air—
Died.