A biting chill quickly condensed on the window. Wisps of fog spilled out from under the door, seeping onto this floor.
Wen Yan turned and walked away, swiftly entering the ward. He gently closed the door and lay down on his own hospital bed.
As more mist spilled out, the main door in the corridor slowly opened. A middle-aged woman with a sullen face, wearing a white coat, one hand holding a clipboard, the other a pen, silently glided in.
An aura of cold, deathly stillness spread, transforming into a suffocating atmosphere.
Wen Yan looked to his right. Feng Yao was fast asleep and deeply unconscious on the neighboring bed.
Under the moonlight, Wen Yan saw that the man in the farthest bed had opened his eyes at some unknown point. They were filled with terror and despair. The man's mouth was agape, his expression contorted by fear and pain.
Just by looking, Wen Yan felt as if he could hear the man's shrill screams, yet, paradoxically, the man was unable to make any sound at all.
Suddenly, an intrusive, bone-chilling cold mixed with a malice sharp as needles assaulted him. His mind began to fill with the man's desperate, hoarse wails—cries that, despite his strained voice, he couldn't suppress.
He saw the despair and pain in the man's eyes suddenly become submerged by a thick, overwhelming terror.
Wen Yan slowly turned his head, only to see a warped and twisted face pressed tightly against the glass of the door.
The face looked as if it had rotted. One eyeball, connected by shreds of flesh, dangled from its socket. Its blood-red pupil, filled with malice, stared intently at him.
Wen Yan's hair stood on end, and his muscles tensed sharply in fright. However, he quickly controlled himself, clenched his teeth, and remained silent, not screaming, just watching quietly.
In the past few days, he had encountered ghosts, burned a desiccated corpse, eaten poisonous mushrooms, and witnessed all sorts of bizarre, distorted hallucinations. Then he had met the little nurse with cavities. He was almost accustomed to seeing abnormal things by now.
He leaned back on the hospital bed, just watching quietly.
During the day, he had deliberately read through the Virtue City First Hospital regulations and general hospital rules several times, from start to finish.
There was not a single rule that required patients to fall asleep immediately after lights out.
Only a sign on the inpatient department wall advised against making loud noises after lights out.
The Director outside the door clearly hadn't encountered someone like Wen Yan before. She was somewhat surprised that Wen Yan wasn't asleep, and even more so that he didn't react much when he saw her.
She slowly pushed open the door, standing in the doorway, staring intently at Wen Yan.
Wen Yan also looked back at her calmly. Gradually, he began to smell a pungent, metallic scent of blood mixed with a faint stench of decay. A deathly chill, like being pricked by needles, steadily encroached upon him.
It's so cold.
He slowly pulled the blanket over himself, covering himself well.
His heart raced, and waves of nausea washed over him. Still, he firmly remembered the Curator's admonition: rules were paramount.
To avoid being overwhelmed by the increasingly real sensations, his thoughts began to drift. He thought of the Virtue City Funeral House and recalled how, on his very first day, the Curator had made him spend a considerable amount of time reading the employee handbook.
He suddenly had a realization. Could it be that the Funeral House also had its own unique Domain?
Now, seeing this bizarre-looking Director, Wen Yan grew even calmer. His pounding heart began to slow to a more normal rhythm.
He pulled the blanket up, lay in bed, and watched quietly.
I can't scream, I can't run. If I scream or run, it'll really be over.
He watched as the Director entered the ward and drew closer, step by step. She made no physical contact with him, yet the deathly chill was already more intense than when the desiccated corpse-ghost had passed through his body.
As the Director drew nearer, the cold intensified. A faint warmth began to emanate from the Work Vest Wen Yan wore underneath his clothes.
From Feng Yao, who was fast asleep in the next bed, a flash of golden light flickered and vanished in an instant. It transformed into a speck of Gold that shot into the Director's body.
A fiery Power erupted within her chest as if flames were burning, instantly searing a large hole through it. The frigid air and the invisible flames collided, producing a SIZZLING sound.
The Director's face grew more distorted, like slowly melting wax. Her eyes, filled with malice, stared at Feng Yao and Wen Yan. Her mouth opened wide and her body shuddered, yet she made no sound.
The Director slowly retreated from the ward. The invisible flames in her chest gradually dissipated, the large hole burned through it slowly vanished, and her melting face began to recover.
Within two to three minutes, she returned to normal. She was once again a middle-aged woman with a sullen face, standing quietly at the ward door, watching Wen Yan and the sleeping Feng Yao.
Wen Yan, wrapped in his blanket and leaning against the headboard, remained silent, pretending he saw nothing.
But as time passed, even though the Director, now with her normal appearance, did nothing, the coldness and malice felt as if they were peeling back Wen Yan's scalp and frantically burrowing inside.
He began to experience hallucinations. Everything around him seemed to turn transparent and fade away, leaving only drifting hospital beds.
Some beds were empty. Others held people with rigid, contorted faces, desperately trying to scream but unable to make a sound.
They stared intently at Wen Yan, their eyes filled with even greater despair and pain.
Wen Yan's face was taut, his complexion ashen. The low, humming drone from the corridor grew clearer. He could distinctly hear a cacophony of pained whispers from many people, drawing nearer, ringing in his ears.
He was on the verge of screaming.
His resistance to hallucinations had increased considerably only because he had been poisoned and tormented by them for two days prior. Otherwise, he would have screamed long ago.
After a few more minutes, the Director's complexion grew even more somber. Drops of Black Water dripped continuously from her, and the atmosphere became increasingly oppressive. She glanced at the digital clock in the corridor, then slowly turned and left.
Outside, a deathly silence fell once more. He could only wait for dawn. At the moment of sunrise, Wen Yan watched as the patient in the innermost bed silently dissipated. The bedding on it remained neatly folded.
His complexion wasn't good. It was the height of summer, and the air conditioning was off, yet it was so cold he remained wrapped in a blanket. He got out of bed and lightly patted Feng Yao's cheek.
"Big guy, time to get up and pee."
Feng Yao didn't even open his eyes. He flipped over and rolled under the bed. In one hand, he held a gilded dagger in a reverse grip; in the other, he clutched a Yellow Talisman folded into a triangle.
Feng Yao looked around warily. Then he saw Wen Yan, somewhat speechless, pointing out the window.
"It's already daylight."
Feng Yao felt his chest and pulled out some ashes. This meant he had suffered erosion from a potent evil entity last night—and a powerful one at that. The erosion had occurred without direct contact, as he was unharmed, but the prepared Amulet in his pocket had turned to ash.
Feng Yao looked at Wen Yan, falling silent.
He knew all his preparations had been useless. He had still fallen asleep, the Amulet had been triggered, and he was undoubtedly still alive thanks to Wen Yan.
The situation here was likely more troublesome than anticipated.
"Thanks."
"No need to be polite; just reimburse me for the gear later."
Wen Yan took out the Work Vest given by the Curator. The Large Bills sewn into the lining were already mostly shredded.
"Don't worry, it will be reimbursed properly."
"That's good. Let me start with the information I've gathered."
"No rush, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just feeling cold, nothing else."
"Then I'll first check on everyone else."
Feng Yao contacted the support team outside and confirmed that the others who had entered the inpatient department with him last night were all fine. Like him, they had fallen asleep immediately at 10:30 PM.
He also confirmed that no one in the inpatient department had died after lights out last night. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
Then, Wen Yan recounted the events of the previous night to Feng Yao in detail.
As Feng Yao listened, he made notes.
A moment later, Feng Yao frowned at his notes.
"This is troublesome. It's significantly different from what we expected.
"First, the Domain definitely doesn't appear for only three days a year, nor is it restricted to a fixed location. It might manifest in other ways or places; otherwise, it's impossible to explain how new victims were dragged into the Domain months ago.
"Second, it's not only those who die within the Domain who have their Souls taken. People might die in accidents outside it, and their Souls could still be drawn into the Domain after death.
"Third, that Director definitely has to abide by the rules within the Domain, such as not making loud noises."
Feng Yao quickly summarized, looking at his notes.
Wen Yan pondered for a moment, then added, "You know, when that thing found us, she lingered for only about ten minutes in total, all told, and then left without trying anything more. Honestly, if she'd pressed on for another ten minutes, I don't think I could have held out.
"That look in her eyes... she looked like she wanted to eat me alive. She couldn't have been deliberately going easy on us, could she?
"And her patrolling here every day—is it possible it's not what she wants to do? Could there be a rule specifically for her, requiring her to meticulously patrol the entire inpatient building every day, completing her rounds thoroughly?"