I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

……

None of them looked up.

"It's on top."

The mixed-race girl's voice was very soft, just enough for her teammate, who was pressed against her back, to hear: "It's on the ceiling."

The mercenary extended her boot, flicked her toe slightly, and a mirror unfolded on the shoe's surface. In the small reflection, she could see what the object looked like:

Very thin, very tall, slender, almost touching the ceiling, his torso wrapped in a hospital gown whose color was no longer discernible, with a large dark stain splattered on his front.

She was huddled inside her hospital gown, the sleeves hanging loosely, the hem of the gown just past her knees, revealing two extremely thin and white legs.

[I'm dead, I'm so pitiful, I'm dead—]

[Give me your life—]

Seemingly sensing the gaze, the monster in the hospital gown lowered its head, its neck bending at an anatomically unnatural angle, hanging down segment by segment from the ceiling!

The cervical vertebrae broke free of the collar of the hospital gown, moving like the ribs of a snake.

On his upside-down face, he kept muttering the same sentence over and over again:

[I can't find my destiny—I'm having such a hard time—give me your lives—]

The other Norwegian mercenary, staring into the mirror, had his pupils contract sharply—he saw that his dead teammate's body was hanging in that thing's hand.

She was dead, but her eyes were still moving, her mouth was stuffed with wet gauze, and her lips were moving silently, as if she were trying to say something to him:

[R……U……N……(run).]

He subconsciously looked up—on the battlefield, they were used to looking up to confirm the direction of the approaching enemy whenever there was an unusual sound.

Tactical maneuvers practiced thousands or tens of thousands of times have now become a disadvantage.

"Mark, don't look up!"

A teammate screamed, but it was too late.

The instant he looked up, a face suddenly appeared upside down in his peripheral vision.

Those eyes were open—all the capillaries in the whites of the eyes were ruptured, the sclera was covered in blood clots, and the pupils had no focus.

Its lips parted, revealing a yellowish-white tongue coating:

[Give me your life... Mark.]

—Then came a crisp sound.

The sound of a broken cervical vertebra is like stepping on dry twigs.

The Norwegian's head was twisted backward, at an angle exceeding physiological limits, causing his jaw to get stuck on his shoulder blade.

Player Thomas Miller is dead.

[Player Mark Jon is dead.]

The moment the system notification popped up, the four remaining survivors had already gathered around again.

They had no time to recite prayers, and even less time to be afraid.

In the mirror, the seams in the ceiling are now clean and spotless, with nothing left behind.

But everyone was filled with fear.

Because that thing didn't leave, it was in the blind spot, coldly waiting, waiting for them to make the next mistake.

Mixed-race people are action-oriented. For them, fear seems to be just a signal of adrenaline secretion that they don't need to suppress and will automatically transform.

She quickly counted the number of people and then commanded: "Form fours, back to back, cross steps—quick!"

The four people moved back to back in the corridor.

The footsteps were no longer countable—the extra sounds were pressed against their backs.

They lift their left foot, it lifts its left foot.

When they stop, it stops too.

The smell of disinfectant grew stronger and stronger, mixed with the stench of blood, pressing down from the ceiling, making the air feel heavy and almost viscous.

I can't find my destiny—this is so hard—

The sound rang out again.

It pressed down from directly above, against the innermost layer of the eardrums, like a tongue licking inside the ears.

In a flash, the mixed-race child's mind suddenly went blank.

She mentally stripped away the noise and drawn-out sounds of the Cantonese pronunciation of "fate."

In Cantonese, "Ming" has a low tone, with the tip of the tongue touching the front of the palate, and the final consonant is a nasal sound.

The four characters 命, 明, 名, 冥 are homophones or near-homophones in Cantonese.

She initially misheard it as "命" (mìng), because the pronunciation of "命" in Mandarin is similar to that of "ming".

But the word "命" in Cantonese is "meng", not "ming".

She shouldn't have overlooked this initial consonant difference.

Her maternal grandmother was from Hong Kong. When she was little, she would hold her in the manor and hum a Cantonese nursery rhyme:

"The moonlight shines on the underworld, little shrimp, please fall into bed obediently."

The words "name" and "fate" often appear together in children's songs.

She even asked her grandmother back then why the two words sounded the same.

Grandmother laughed for a long time and said that the silly girl was different; her name was "ming" and her fate was "meng".

Different.

Different!

She bit her tongue, but then she saw the horrified look in her teammates' eyes fall on her.

Out of the corner of my eye, a pair of long, pale, ghostly hands reached out from behind my ears, and a teammate called out her name:

"Evelyn!"

idiot!!

The mixed-race person almost immediately sensed something was wrong, grabbed their teammate's face, forced themselves into the three people's view, and quickly added through gritted teeth:

"It's not that it can't find its destiny. It's that it can't find its name."

It didn't want our lives, it wanted our names. Thomas and the others were called by name just now, which is why they died in the blind spot!

This ghost seems to follow two rules when it kills people:

First, they hide in blind spots and kill when everyone ignores them.

Secondly, those who died were all people whose names were called out by their teammates in the hallway!

The mixed-race girl realized that if she didn't find a way to break the deadlock, she would be the next to die!

Take a gamble!

"Look upwards! Find that ghost in the hospital gown!"

The moment Evelyn spoke, all four of them looked up simultaneously, their gazes falling on the ceiling—

The long, thin hospital gown-like ghost seemed to appear suddenly, and it just stood there above their heads.

Disinfectant dripped from the soaked hospital gown, its outline revealed by the view.

His face emerged from the shadows upside down, chin in the air, his mouth speaking rapidly, like a recording playing on fast-forward:

[I can't find my name—this is so hard—give me your names—Evelyn—]

But it seemed to be "caught" by the gaze and did not make a move for a long time.

The men stared wide-eyed, afraid to blink or turn their heads, lest their employer die before their eyes at any moment.

too close.

They were so close they could see the nameplate on the patient's gown—the stitches were soaked with blood, and the handwritten traditional Chinese characters were upside down.

Chung Yiu-cheung.

"Call it by its name! Its name is Chung Yiu-cheung!"

Evelyn's tone was extremely excited; she didn't know if she had shouted the wrong thing—she just felt her adrenaline surge.

The name "鼺耀祥" could be its actual name, or it could simply be the name of another patient on a different hospital gown.

But she had no other choice.

"Wayne Chung!"

"The aroma of Chinese herbs!"

"Elephant Rocking on Weekend!"

He shouted out in broken Chinese, his voice chasing after hers.

Finally, Evelyn's voice cut through all the noise: "Zhong—Yao—Xiang—I've found your name!"

The voices of four living people simultaneously struck that upside-down face.

The sound echoed repeatedly, layer upon layer.

The overhead lights suddenly began to flicker, and in the dim light, they saw the face receding.

The neck retracted segment by segment, making a series of crisp "click-clack-clack" sounds as the bones returned to their positions.

[I understand, I understand, my name is Chung Yiu-cheung.]

The ghost in the long hospital gown looked like a moth returning to its cocoon, slowly shrinking back into the wall.

The walls were closed, the paint was reapplied, and the smell of disinfectant quickly dissipated.

The corridor fell into a deathly silence.

Only four people remained, panting, and a pool of disinfectant mixed with blood was rapidly evaporating on the ground.

[System Announcement: Congratulations to the Outsider Team for successfully completing the resident registration for "Hospital Gown with Unidentified Name".]

【玩家艾芙琳·陈——积分+100，获得道具：补血丹×2，残缺的病号服×1、——积分+30。马库斯·里德——积分+30。柯莱瓦——积分+30。】

The mixed-race child wore an expression of extreme excitement.

On the 22nd floor, Chen Xi glanced at the system notification and knocked on the door of Granny Li's house.