He just broke up with his girlfriend and is already living with the devilish rich girl.

The two arrived at the door that they had been unable to open before.

Zheng Xingguang raised his hand and gently knocked three times on the door.

"Om, Mani, Padme, Hum".

He read it casually, and his voice was not loud.

As the finger tapped the door panel one last time, the faint light shining through the crack in the door suddenly trembled.

The sound of the lock springing open was particularly crisp in the empty corridor.

The door slowly slid open inwards.

Bai Ziheng stood behind Zheng Xingguang, his brows furrowed.

I was almost torn to pieces by those women in red in front of this door just now, but this kid just knocked on the door, chanted a spell, and the door opened by itself.

"Why did it open as soon as you arrived?"

"Didn't I just say that, Brother Bai?" Zheng Xingguang withdrew his hand and turned to show Bai Ziheng the dense engravings on the door frame.

"Everything I did after entering this building was a stepping stone."

"First, we break its illusion, then force it to reveal the real elevator, and then we deliver the souls of those scapegoats in the corridor—"

He pointed to the engravings on the door frame, and Bai Ziheng then realized that they were not decorative patterns, but sword marks.

"It has been hiding here for more than ten years, and has killed dozens of people. No one can do anything about it, so it thinks it is the rule of this building."

"Now that I've demonstrated my methods, if it still doesn't open the door, then what I'm going to do next is not to take it back, but to kill it right here."

After Zheng Xingguang finished speaking, he stepped inside.

Bai Ziheng smiled as he watched his retreating figure.

When this kid gets serious, he can be quite intimidating.

The room wasn't big.

In the very center was an old-fashioned television set, the kind of 14-inch black and white television produced in the 1980s.

The plastic panel on the outer casing has turned yellow and become brittle, and the knob is worn down to only half a circle of markings.

Two rabbit-ear antennas stood crookedly on the top of the machine, one of which was broken in half and wrapped with black tape.

The TV is on.

The screen displayed black and white static, and a hissing electrical noise filled the entire room.

Then the scene suddenly cut, the snowflakes disappeared, and it became a living room.

A black and white living room.

A middle-aged man sat on the sofa, wearing blue work clothes common in that era.

The cuffs were worn white, and there were patches on the knees.

He held a piece of paper in his hand, his expression blurred by the black and white noise.

That's the gesture you make when you receive an obituary.

The scene changed.

A young woman was squatting in the stairwell burning paper money. Sparks from the brazier floated upwards, and her lips were moving, but no sound could be heard.

The stairwell wall was painted half green, a standard feature of old-style tenement buildings.

The scene changed again.

A child is crying, his mouth wide open, tears streaming down his face, and there is no one around.

The scene continues to cut.

A group of people crowded in front of the factory director's office, holding up a banner.

An old man was kneeling on the ground with a row of rice bowls in front of him.

A man in a suit stepped out of a black sedan, followed by several henchmen carrying briefcases. He pointed to the unfinished concrete building in front of him and said something to the people next to him with a smile.

Finally, the screen stopped at a wedding photo.

The bride and groom sat in front of the backdrop in the photo studio, with a red cloth spread on the table and a thermos and an enamel basin on it.

Both of them smiled rather reservedly.

Bai Ziheng stared at the photo, and the more he looked at it, the more something seemed off.

The television played these clips silently, with no sound except for the occasional hissing sound of static covering the screen.

The room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

"Let's stop."

Zheng Xingguang suddenly spoke.

The video stopped.

The wedding photo was frozen on the screen, the bride's restrained smile appearing somewhat eerie against the black and white noise.

That year was the peak of mass layoffs.

Zheng Xingguang looked at the wedding photo on the screen and said.

"At that time, state-owned enterprises in Ninghai City laid off a large number of employees. Many factories that people had worked in for their entire lives were shut down overnight, and tens of thousands of people lost their jobs overnight."

"Back then, there was no social security system like we have now, and no re-employment training. If you were laid off, you really didn't get a penny. Many people couldn't afford to eat or rent a place."

"After state-owned enterprises laid off employees, many people suddenly lost the breadwinner of their families."

"This was the couple's new home, which they were preparing to use for their wedding, but they all jumped off the building one after another and never came back."

Zheng Xingguang pointed to the wedding photo on the TV screen.

"This building was invested and constructed by the Sun Group."

"Back then, they took advantage of the mass layoffs to buy land from bankrupt state-owned enterprises at low prices, demolished the factory buildings to build new ones, and used the leftovers of others to make their own soup."

"They speculated on land, made money, built cheap housing, received subsidies, and climbed up the ranks. Now they are considered one of the more well-known companies in China."

"To put it bluntly, they climbed up step by step by step by stepping on the backs of these laid-off workers."

Bai Ziheng remained silent for a few seconds, then slowly spoke.

"If I'm not mistaken, perhaps the people who truly want to solve this problem are the Sun family."

Zheng Xingguang pondered for a moment, then nodded.

"Nine times out of ten, this building belongs to the Sun Group, and they have made an unknown amount of money for them over the years."

"But now this cursed object is stuck here, the building is sealed off, the land can't be sold, and there's a case involving dozens of lives."

"They're more anxious than anyone else. Minister Qin probably received the commission from them. Although she said she was just coming to see me, the person she really wanted to entrust to is you, brother-in-law."

"So what should we do now?"

Bai Ziheng asked.

Zheng Xingguang did not answer.

He raised his hand and touched the television.

The moment my fingertip touched the screen, the TV picture suddenly exploded, the black and white static spinning wildly as if it had been shattered.

A cold draft emanated from the television, carrying countless faint cries, causing Bai Ziheng to stagger back a step.

When he regained his footing, the room in front of him had changed.

The four walls disappeared, replaced by a gray, misty space.

There was no ceiling above, and what you were stepping on was not a floor, but a thin film of water.

Beneath the film of water were countless blurry human faces, heads tilted back, mouths opening and closing, like drowning people silently calling for help.

The pain and cries of countless people echoed in my ears.

"This thing has absorbed too much negative emotion, and now it can transform it into a physical form."

Zheng Xingguang spoke in a very low voice, but Bai Ziheng still heard him clearly.

"Um?"

Bai Ziheng raised his eyes and looked at the gray space in front of him, where something was gathering.

The fog grew thicker and thicker, eventually condensing into a huge black shadow.

The shadow began to shrink and deform, as if an invisible hand was molding clay inside.

First, there were two legs, thick and long, without feet, which stepped directly onto the water film.

Each toe is a claw made of three bone fragments pieced together.

Then comes the torso, with the sternum protruding outwards and the ribs sticking out from both sides.

Then comes the head, which has no skin, only a thin, pale pink membrane covering the seven orifices.

The sarcoma was still writhing, oozing gray pus.

It stood up.

It is over five meters tall, with two long arms hanging down to below the knees.

The fingers are five curved bone spurs.

His head was tilted slightly, and something was pushing outward from under the membrane, as if trying to tear his face open from the inside.

"You just said that it now has a physical form?"

Bai Ziheng stared at the thing, his golden vertical pupils involuntarily brightening for a moment.

"Yes, if we convert it according to the level of aberrations, it should be a high-level A-rank resentment aggregate."

"High-ranking A-class." Bai Ziheng chewed on these four words for a moment, then nodded.

"You step back first. Once its health bar is up, I'll take care of the rest."