"I generally don't like using violence to solve problems—persuading with reason better suits the cultivation of a scholar—"

"Of course, scum are the exception."

[Writer] spoke calmly and coldly, his deep eyes though covered by a light-colored cloth strip, yet that faint gaze falling upon the thin ghost made it feel profound fear.

That thin male ghost was at most an E-level ghost, not exceeding D-level.

In a C-level game instance, facing [Writer], one of the 'Real Ghosts', even if [Writer]'s current abilities weren't strong, dealing with him was more than sufficient.

That extremely deep aura, mixed with despair, hatred, and curses, lingered around [Writer], an existence that ghosts were unwilling to approach.

An overly malicious NPC wasn't suitable to be his neighbor; if it hindered friendly coexistence, it would affect physical and mental health, and then health maintenance would become a serious problem.

Anyway, there were so many ghosts, one more or less shouldn't make much difference.

Such ghost scum, keeping them served no purpose.

The protected ghost children hid behind Xiao Gui'an, peeking out cautiously, then as if receiving some instruction, they all fell silent and quietly withdrew from the area.

[Writer] noticed but didn't stop the ghost children from leaving, always standing quietly and upright at the forefront.

He pulled out the cane that had pierced through the other's palm without any hesitation, looking at the sticky blood staining the bottom of the cane with slight disgust, could only try to shake it off.

If he wiped it on the ghost before him, he'd consider the other too dirty.

After returning, he must clean the cane thoroughly.

Perhaps pain brought back what little fear and sanity remained; the two middle-aged ghosts finally realized that directly confronting the being before them wasn't a good idea.

"Now, get lost—"

As if receiving a pardon, the two supported each other, scrambling up from the ground, hunched over, stumbling away, not daring to look back.

Xiao Gui'an withdrew his gaze, calculating the time in his mind.

After waiting a few minutes, thinking it unlikely he'd run into Xu Zisheng, he picked up the fruit basket he'd placed beside his feet earlier and continued using the cane as a guide cane, walking toward the direction of Building 3.

He pondered the scene he'd just witnessed.

When those two middle-aged ghosts appeared, the girl holding the glass shard had the most unusual reaction.

She cowered behind the pigtailed girl, head deeply bowed, hands trembling uncontrollably, clearly too terrified to move.

This state was quite different from the two previous times he'd encountered her.

Xiao Gui'an walked steadily and quietly, passing once again by the most remote temporary garage in the residential area, the place where he'd first encountered the girl holding the glass shard.

He stopped, his gaze bypassing the clutter and old bicycles, finally settling on that uneven metal sheet.

"Rustle—"

[Writer] ultimately stood beside that pile of scrap.

Xiao Gui'an used his cane to slowly sweep away the clutter, an old umbrella falling to the ground, some useless cardboard boxes and debris all inspected by Xiao Gui'an.

During this process, many small spiders crawled out from the umbrella and scurried away past Xiao Gui'an's feet.

After shaking out all the disorderly items blocking his view, Xiao Gui'an uncovered several broken metal sheets and a large lock that had long rusted.

On the other side of some metal sheets were dark bloodstains, very fine, easily overlooked if one didn't pay close attention.

Xiao Gui'an tightly clenched the gentleman's cane in his hand.

Though now dismantled beyond recognition, by slightly restoring the uneven folded corners and welding those metal sheets together, what would appear before him would be a medium-sized metal box.

And that large rusted lock with its bolt could perfectly seal that metal box—just large enough to cram in an underage child—completely airtight, though with no room to stretch limbs.

When fully sealed, not a single ray of light would penetrate, complete darkness, complete confinement, even the air becoming thin.

'...Th...ey made me hide down there again, summer's so hot, can't breathe, whole body itchy, want to scratch...(scratched out)(scratched out)'

'There's something...crawling...dense and numerous...'

[They also catch spiders and put them on me, lock me in that very hot small room, block the exit so I can't get out...]

A child with disabled legs who couldn't walk—if others crammed her into that extremely narrow metal box and tightly locked it, impossible to open—what would her ultimate fate be?

When ordered to count from one hundred to zero before she could leave, in the scorching summer, inside that confined space, how long would it take for her to feel difficulty breathing?

Unable to move, in the most remote corner, even cries for help would be barely audible.

Moreover, there would be spiders growing in long-accumulated clutter, crawling into the box, slowly creeping over her body, biting tender skin with small nibbles.

Counting down—she was counting the numbers leading to her death.

Hide and Seek—

Hiding until the end, she would never be found by anyone again.

Those laughing children hiding everywhere, their utterly cruel malice drowned out a vibrant life.

'So uncomfortable, so hot...I feel like I can't breathe...(scratched out)(scratched out)'

'Why...why...wasn't I the one playing the game?...'

'If only we could switch places...'

'Mother, where are you?...Xiao Qiao...so uncomfortable...'

What would someone who died from suffocation look like?

A bluish-purple face, swollen blood vessels, dilated pupils, that body prone to rapid decomposition in summer crawling with dense, numerous spiders.

This appearance—

Wasn't this exactly how the girl first appeared beneath the metal sheet?