I'd seen plenty of dead bodies before—watched forensic autopsies up close—but those were all under strict safety protocols: sterile gloves, isolation suits, a controlled environment.
But carrying a corpse around barehanded? Even funeral professionals wouldn't do that.
"Does it have to be on my back?" I asked.
"If holding it in your arms feels better, that's fine too," Daoist Master Wanyi replied. "But no matter what, do not let the corpse touch the ground. This place has been corroded by Yuanchen energy for too long. If it does, it could trigger… other transformations."
The way he said "other transformations" sent a chill through me. I blinked my dry eyes. "On the back then. That feels safer."
Having someone to guide me was better than stumbling around like a headless chicken. I decided to follow Daoist Master Wanyi's instructions to the letter.
Yingzi and Xiumu kept their distance, too afraid to get close. That proved the talismans on the windows weren't as ineffective as Daoist Master Wanyi made them sound.
I took a deep breath to adjust my mindset. Whatever I saw inside, I had to stay calm—fearless. I wouldn't stop until this was over.
I tore down the talisman seals on the window and climbed into the building.
The outer room was just a small rest area for the workers. Plain. Unremarkable.
But beyond a single door, the inner chamber was sealed with talismans pasted over every wall. A wooden sign read: KEEP OUT.
"I already broke the seal. No turning back now."
As I stepped into the room, a heavy stench punched me in the face. Five years hadn't faded it—if anything, the closed space had let it ferment into something worse.
I frowned, holding my breath. I focused on Daoist Master Wanyi's words:
"Push forward, even alone. Only in facing death head-on can you find a sliver of survival."
"Screw it."
I tore the talisman off the final door and shoved it open.
Five years of hell exploded before my eyes.
Bodies drenched in gasoline, scorched by fire. Resentment clung to the air like a black fog, thick enough to blot out the ceiling.
I trembled. My teeth chattered. I'd seen countless crime scenes before, but this… this was different.
I didn't know what to do. My fingers twitched involuntarily.
The moment I touched the first body—burned into a human-shaped lump of charcoal—it felt like I'd stepped into another world. A dirty, twisted one.
I knew what I had to do. But doing it… that was something else entirely.
"I can't give up. I can't be afraid. I need to find him. Find him!"
My human instincts were breaking down, torn apart by fear. I forced myself to keep going, working like a machine, methodically checking every corpse.
I didn't know what Guo Junjie looked like. The school had erased every trace of him. But I had one key clue:
A hand-sized patch of skin had been peeled from over his heart.
I needed to find the body with missing skin over the left ribcage. But I couldn't afford even a flicker of fear or hesitation.
Time twisted and stretched until it lost all meaning. My mind spiraled into chaos. I couldn't tell if I was alive or dead—just repeating the same motions endlessly. Obsession bloomed like a parasite in my brain.
"Find him."
My hands were black with soot. I didn't know how many corpses I'd checked or how long I'd been at it.
At last, in a corner of the room, I spotted a slender, relatively intact corpse.
Something about it pulled me in—like fate.
I dragged it out. The face had been burned beyond recognition, but when I looked at the chest, I saw it—one side charred, flesh melted onto bone. The other side was bare. The heart was missing.
"Found him."
The moment I hoisted the body onto my back, the room began to shake.
The resentment boiled up, like something ancient was waking.
Talismans fluttered with no wind. A few even glowed red.
The windows began to rattle.
No time. I made sure the body stayed off the ground—and ran.
As I crossed the threshold of the cremation room, every window shattered behind me. The talismans dissolved into ash.
"A place touched by clear light…"
Moonlight. I needed to reach the rooftop.
I sprinted. Life and death were racing now.
Guo Junjie's spirit—now a Yuanchen ghost—would realize what I was doing soon. And when he did, Yingzi and I wouldn't stand a chance.
Black smoke erupted from the cremation room. The resentment twisted into inhuman forms.
I heard Xiumu shouting in panic behind me, but I didn't dare look back. I didn't say a word. Just ran.
BOOM!
A deafening blast echoed behind me. Smoke flooded out of the building. Guo Junjie had broken free.
"We're screwed," Xiumu said, face pale as death. "That thing's going to shred us."
"We still have a shot! The corpse is his only weakness!"
I bit down hard and charged into the academic building. My legs felt like lead.
The corpse on my back was growing heavier by the second.
A cold wind howled behind me like wild dogs snapping at my heels.
The suffocating sensation returned—just like in the water tank.
"Don't black out!"
I bit my tongue. Blood filled my mouth, pain jolting me awake.
One floor. Two. Three. Four.
Only one stairwell left: the twelve steps leading to the roof.
Twelve steps. Life and death.
One. Two. My legs were blocks of concrete.
I turned. The ghost had taken shape—an inhuman figure, crawling on all fours, racing toward me.
"Ten more…" I muttered, blood dribbling from my lips.
Behind me, Xiumu's scream turned into static. The ghost tore through him, shredding him like paper.
Three steps. Four. Five—
A tiny figure hurled itself in front of the ghost. Yingzi.
She screamed. Her face turned deathly white, eyes black and hollow.
A surge of resentment burst from her small body like a blood-soaked butterfly breaking free of a cocoon.
She stopped the ghost in its tracks.
I didn't look back. I couldn't.
All I knew was that the corpse on my back was now as heavy as a mountain.
Six. Seven. Eight. Nine!
Just one more step.
Yingzi was still holding on.
"I can do this."
I lifted my foot, stepped onto the twelfth stair—
And froze.
There was a thirteenth step.
"No. That's wrong. I counted. There are only twelve! Why is there another?"
I stopped, sweat beading on my forehead.
Hands—phantom hands—seemed to reach from the dark to pull me down.
I stared at that extra step, unsure if I should take it.
The struggle behind me faded.
Yingzi was flung like a rag doll, crashing into a wall.
There was nothing left to stop him now.
The black smoke shifted again—coalescing into a boy. Thin. Blurred. Unremarkable.
No one had remembered his face. Just like in life.
Just one more step.
"You're the ones who killed me. You drove me to it. You all deserve to pay."
He repeated the same lines. Again and again.
The resentment deepened.
The corpse on my back started to move. It gripped my neck.
"You were wronged, but the killing—that was your choice. I just want to know… even after all the people you've killed, is it still not enough?"
"I won't stop! You all deserve to die! It's all your fault!"
He stepped past me—
And onto the thirteenth stair.
In that moment, the rooftop disappeared—replaced by a black void suspended in midair.
Inside, pale figures in school uniforms wept soundlessly.
They would never leave.
"So stepping on the thirteenth stair really does show you another world," I thought.
That was my last thought as I felt myself tilt toward the abyss.
Half my body had already slipped inside when—
"Gao Jian!"
A voice—crisp and familiar—rang out.
"Who's calling me?"
I opened my eyes in a haze.
At the far end of the void, a figure in a blazing red dress stood like fire, lighting up the darkness.