"Miss Zhao, Wang Yang has fainted," the cameraman said, breaking Zhao Yan's thoughts.
Zhao Yan glanced over and saw Wang Yang collapsed on the ground.
After a brief look, she averted her gaze.
He had merely fainted from exhaustion, not died suddenly.
"He'll wake up in a bit. Let's not bother with him," Zhao Yan said.
With that, Zhao Yan walked into the bedroom.
The cameraman followed closely behind her.
There were many clothes in the wardrobe, including several designer brands.
As she looked further, Zhao Yan's heart filled with astonishment. She took out two sets of black and white burial clothes from the wardrobe, one of which was for a child.
"She had planned to commit suicide long ago."
Zhao Yan asked the cameraman if he had any more information.
The cameraman shook his head.
Zhao Yan saw the woman with only half a face. That woman was not the one who had committed suicide.
"Bang!"
A sudden noise made Zhao Yan freeze. She quickly turned to look behind her.
Several clothes hangers had fallen from the wardrobe.
"Cameraman, move closer to me," Zhao Yan said softly.
Startled by the falling hangers, the cameraman pressed himself against the wall and quickly moved to Zhao Yan's side.
Zhao Yan crouched down, shining her flashlight on the floor.
The floor was covered in thick dust, showing their footprints.
As she prepared to stand up, she noticed a new set of footprints on the floor.
The footprints in the room gradually increased, and then suddenly appeared behind her.
Zhao Yan's shoulders inexplicably felt heavier, as if something was pressing down on them.
Her body hunched forward, her legs bent, and she fell to her knees with a thud.
"Miss Zhao, what's wrong?" the cameraman asked in alarm, reaching out to help Zhao Yan up.
"Don't come over yet," Zhao Yan said sternly.
The cameraman immediately froze in place.
The wardrobe creaked open.
The set of burial clothes floated in mid-air. The buttons of the clothes opened and began to be put onto Zhao Yan.
Zhao Yan quickly reached into her bag, pulled out a talisman, and threw it over.
The talisman burned instantly upon contact with the air, and the floating burial clothes fell to the ground.
Zhao Yan's shoulders felt lighter. More footprints appeared on the floor. She saw these footprints extending towards the door. Supporting herself with her hands on the floor, she slowly stood up.
Feeling a pain in her back, Zhao Yan pulled open the back of her shirt halfway and said to the cameraman, "Cameraman, take a look at my back."
The cameraman glanced and exclaimed, "Oh my god! Miss Zhao, there are many small holes on your back, as if someone pricked you with needles."
"Take a picture with your phone and show it to me," Zhao Yan said.
The cameraman followed Zhao Yan's instructions, took a picture with his phone, and handed it to her.
Looking at the photo, she saw dense needle marks. These marks were not deep and did not draw blood.
She reached back and touched her back, feeling an uneven surface.
She pulled her clothes back down and followed the footprints outwards.
The footprints stopped at the doorway.
"Cameraman, don't you feel like the other party is playing a game with us, not intending to finish us off?"
"Huh? Really?" The cameraman couldn't keep up with Zhao Yan's thoughts.
"Yes. If they had intended to kill from the start, then Wang Yang's cameraman would have been in mortal danger."
The cameraman said, "Miss Zhao, could there be a possibility..."
"That the other party is like a cat playing with a mouse, toying with it before finally devouring it?"
"This old building is usually deserted. Today is the liveliest it's ever been. If I were trapped for so long, I'd definitely want to play with the other party to add some fun."
Zhao Yan thought for a moment, and it was possible.
"Wake Wang Yang up."
The cameraman nodded and delivered several sharp slaps, waking Wang Yang up.
Wang Yang startled awake and cried out. Seeing Zhao Yan, he quickly retreated.
His eyes clearly saw her and the cameraman as ghosts.
"I'll do it," Zhao Yan walked up to Wang Yang and raised her hand, saying, "What number is this?"
After three seconds of no response, she slapped him.
The "slap" stunned Wang Yang.
After a two-second pause, Wang Yang burst into tears.
From the slap, he felt the warmth of a palm – this was a living person!
"I'm so sorry, Miss Zhao. I was blinded by greed. It's so good that you are still alive."
"I wish I had stayed with you in the restroom. I've had such a terrible time, being chased by ghosts. She chased me relentlessly, no matter where I ran, I couldn't shake her off, and I couldn't escape this floor."
The cameraman pointed at the table and said, "Run around the table. If you can get out, then you're truly seeing ghosts."
"Ah!" Wang Yang stood up and looked at the table, immediately shivering. The area around the table was covered with his disheveled footprints.
"This, this..." Wang Yang was dumbfounded.
Zhao Yan walked forward, and the cameraman patted Wang Yang's head. "Stop staring. Hurry and follow Miss Zhao. Miss Zhao is the real lifeline."
"Is the ghost chasing you this one?" Zhao Yan held up the photo of the pregnant woman who had jumped to her death.
Wang Yang shook his head. "No, it was a woman holding a rope. She kept trying to put the rope around my head and chased me, cackling all the way."
"Strange, you weren't caught?"
"Oh, you have no idea. She caught me, put the rope around my neck and tightened it, then let go, and chased after me again. When she caught up, she tightened the rope again."
"It was a cycle, she was endlessly amused!"
"The ghosts in this building are really perverted."
Zhao Yan listened, and it was indeed as the cameraman had said. The ghosts here played with people first, and only dealt with them when they got bored.
"The ghost you encountered should be one who committed suicide by hanging."
"Cameraman, how many people have died in this building?"
The cameraman said, "There were five in total."
"One cut her wrists, one jumped off a building, one hanged herself, one died while using the toilet, and one fell to her death from the stairs."
Zhao Yan said, "No, there should be six. You missed a child."
"Then, according to Miss Zhao's words, that child must be a good ghost. If not for him, Wang Yang and the other staff member would likely not have been found," the cameraman said.
"Yes, it seems so for now."
"Were there any men?" Zhao Yan asked.
She remembered a male resident on the sixth floor who collected a lot of women's intimate apparel.
"No, all the suicides were women." The cameraman replied.
As Zhao Yan was about to speak, she suddenly saw someone running quickly from the sixth-floor stairs to the fifth floor.
Looking at the person running, she froze. The person running seemed to be Wang Yang.
"Huh? Wang Yang?"