Bang! Bang!

The deafening gunshots echoed through the silent hallway.

Ruan Xing fired two shots at "Guai Guai," but the bullets were blocked by the little girl’s abnormally strong body, leaving behind only faint marks.

Realizing his shots were ineffective, Ruan Xing swiftly adjusted his position, pulled the office door shut, and prepared to leave. But the little girl quickly smashed through the door and chased after him.

Fu Gui: [What the hell! What little girl? What "Guai Guai" (obedient)? She's clearly a muscle brute!]

While shooting, Ruan Xing kept increasing the distance between himself and the creature. With his small frame, he would definitely be torn in half if he got bitten.

[Can you see the pollution source on this creature?] Ruan Xing asked Fu Gui.

Fu Gui hovered above the monster’s head. Since he wasn't an immediate target, the little girl showed no intention of attacking him.

[Her muscles are insanely tough… Let me check somewhere else.]

Even with his impressive dynamic vision, all Ruan Xing could do was slow the creature down.

He was about to reach the end of the hallway. Once he hit the stairs, his speed would inevitably drop.

Ruan Xing remained highly focused, swiftly switching to another gun as soon as his current one ran out of bullets.

Just as the monster was about to catch him, Fu Gui shouted, "Shoot her appendix! The pollution source is in her lower right abdomen!"

Ruan Xing immediately adjusted his aim and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Anyone familiar with shooting sports would know how difficult it is to hit a moving target while running. Ruan Xing had never handled a gun before—aside from some practice with stationary targets after purchasing it—so this high-difficulty maneuver was pushing his limits.

Despite firing three shots, he failed to land a direct hit on the lower right abdomen. Instead, he almost got caught.

His lungs burned like they were on fire, and the air felt like it was scorching his body.

For an ordinary person, this process would be more accurately described as "pollution."

But neither Ruan Xing nor Fu Gui were ordinary, so they didn’t feel any effects of being polluted.

Ruan Xing gritted his teeth, his emerald-green eyes as deep and chilling as a frozen lake:

[Stop!]

Due to his current physical limitations, Ruan Xing’s ability to influence pollutants was fairly weak. Moreover, the effectiveness of his power was also heavily affected by the target’s mental state.

If someone was completely determined to kill, he wouldn’t be able to influence them at all.

Fortunately, the little girl’s will didn’t seem to have a firm will.

Her movements slowed, and her distorted face—no longer recognizable as human—twitched slightly.

"Play… together?" she murmured.

Ruan Xing steadied his breath, raised his gun, and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Fu Gui whistled. [Uncle just gave you an appendectomy.]

The monster looked down at her lower right abdomen in disbelief. Then, she let out a low, gurgling sound as she lifted her head: "Uncle…"

Guai Guai collapsed.

As her body fell, it gradually disintegrated into sand, crumbling into fine dust that drifted through the air. In the end, only a few scattered pieces of popcorn remained on the ground.

Ruan Xing’s face was splattered with black liquid, but his expression remained cold and emotionless.

Fu Gui flapped his wings and returned to his shoulder. [That thing wasn’t the boss.]

The dim hallway lights cast long shadows over Ruan Xing’s eyelashes, obscuring his expression.

Fu Gui glanced up at the clock. [Time for work again.]

At the far end of the hallway, the clock’s hands pointed to 9:50 again.

Such time distortions were commonplace in polluted zones.

Fu Gui perched on Ruan Xing’s shoulder as they returned to the first floor.

Within seconds, the cinema’s strange actors flooded into the lobby again.

But unlike before, the actors trembled slightly as they approached Ruan Xing.

They could smell the blood of their fallen companion.

Ruan Xing remained expressionless as he calmly processed movie tickets for the guests.

The clock ticked forward again to 4:00 PM.

The same group of people appeared.

Leading them was the same overweight man in a suit.

"We’d like to see the movie in Theater 4."

His expression was normal, even slightly cheerful as if he had no memory of their previous encounter.

"Where’s Wang Lian?" the man rasped, explicitly asking for a certain attendant’s service.

Was this the cinema owner’s favoritism for a long-time employee?

Ruan Xing: "He’s not here."

Ruan Xing had seen him in Theater 4 a few hours ago, but he hasn’t shown up since then.

The boss’s face twisted strangely into a mix of regret and mockery.

Ruan Xing said nothing more and skillfully processed the tickets before handing them over.

As the boss took his ticket, his bulbous nose twitched. His eyes lingered on Ruan Xing with an unsettling, sticky gaze—like thick, oozing mucus.

"You smell… familiar."

Ruan Xing replied seriously, "Probably the popcorn."

The boss grinned, revealing blackened teeth. His long tongue slithered across the creases of his face.

"Ah, yes… the scent of popcorn. So fragrant! My daughter loves popcorn, too. Where’s Guai Guai?"

"Guai Guai? Guai Guai?!"

His massive head twisted in every direction like an animated stone statue.

"Where did she run off to again?"

Frantically searching for his daughter, the man’s mood quickly turned volatile.

"Guai Guai! Daddy bought you popcorn! Come out now!"

Ruan Xing urged him, "She’s probably already inside watching the movie. Please move aside; other customers are waiting."

The man in the suit narrowed his bloodshot eyes but eventually stepped away from the counter.

Once all the guests of Theater 4 received their tickets, they ascended to the third floor together, replicating their actions before.

This time, Ruan Xing didn’t follow. Instead, he flipped through the logs on the front desk.

He found a disinfection record, but the most recent date was New Calendar Year 31, July 5—everything after that was blank.

What happened that day? Why was nothing recorded afterward?

Digging through the cinema’s ticketing history, Ruan Xing discovered that the same movie had been playing at every screening.

Like Theater 7, it was that lighthearted romance film—Love Memories.

Ruan Xing didn’t go up to the third floor again. He had no idea if Wang Lian was still waiting there, nor did he know if he’d get trapped this time—or if he’d even make it out in one piece.

He left the front desk and went to the innermost office at the end of the first-floor hallway.

It had been locked before, but with Fu Gui’s guidance, he quickly unlocked it again.

Ruan Xing raised an eyebrow. [Have you been a thief before?]

Fu Gui hopped in indignation. [I was born a genius! Natural genius! Crows already have the intelligence of a seven-year-old human, and now that it's the apocalypse, I’ve mutated!]

Ruan Xing didn’t argue with him. He pushed open the door and slipped inside.

The room was small, with about ten workstations.

He turned on the lights, and the harsh brightness hit their eyes like needles.

Fu Gui: [Gah! My 24K titanium-alloy bird eyes!]

The office was simply furnished and slightly larger than the boss’s office on the third floor. However, it was packed with multiple employees' desks.

Of course, it was empty now. No people—just vacant seats.

Ruan Xing began sifting through the workstations.

A sticky note caught his eye: [Organize the new film reels for storage tomorrow! Urgent! Important!]

Another one read: [Three outstanding supplier payments remain: XX Greenery…]

Nothing but work-related reminders, nothing particularly useful.

Which made sense. Who would bring highly personal, sensitive information to their workplace?

Aside from the sticky notes, there were personal items like seat cushions. Ruan Xing thought momentarily, then ruled out a few pink-colored seats.

That left only a few workstations to search, which speed things up considerably.

Among the cluttered information, he found a small, nearly hidden poster stuck to the lower-right corner of a screen. It was the same as the one in the break room—just a scaled-down version.

He had found Wang Lian’s desk.

Opening the drawer, Ruan Xing searched for more clues.

He uncovered a stack of medical invoices. No name was listed, but the dates and hospital information were clear—they were from mid-June.

There was also a notebook.

Inside, the pages were filled with hasty, unstructured notes, as if someone had jotted down their thoughts randomly.

[It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s just a small issue.]

[The nurse today was really gentle. She encouraged me to go outside. I want to go too. Will you come with me?]

[Thank you for the flowers. I really love flowers!]

Ruan Xing flipped through.

[I feel a little uncomfortable… Why is everyone looking at me like that?]

[It’s okay. People are kind—they’ll understand.]

[I want to give up. I didn’t do anything wrong!]

As the entries continued, the handwriting became increasingly frantic and erratic.

[The doctor scolded me today. He said if I hadn’t seduced him, none of this would’ve happened. That I deserved it! Is it really my fault?]

[My family came. My parents said I was shameless. My brother called me w***e. What should I do?]

[I can’t hold on anymore. Let me go.]

Then, for some reason, the entries stopped for several pages.

And then—after a gap—the handwriting returned to its previous neatness:

[I will be happy.]

[Looking forward to July 5th.]

That was the last entry.

Ruan Xing pinched the edge of the pages, letting them flutter down one by one, scanning quickly to ensure he hadn’t missed anything.

At the very back, a faint, nearly illegible handwriting reappeared on the inner cover, which took him a long time to decipher.

[They all deserve to die, die, die, die!]

Snap! The notebook closed.

No one would mix personal belongings into their workplace. But Wang Lian, who treated the cinema like home, would.

This notebook had to belong to him—or someone closely connected to him.

Ruan Xing had some ideas forming in his mind.

Suddenly, his watch screen turned red.

Pollution Level: 64%

Ruan Xing jerked his head up and saw Wang Lian standing at the door.

He no longer had his signature mango-shaped hairstyle slicked back with wax.

His medium-length hair now fell naturally around his face, making him less greasy. Instead, he looked unnervingly more human.

“You went through my stuff?”

His voice was stiff and robotic.

Ruan Xing calmly closed the notebook.

“I was just passing by. The desk looked messy, so I tidied it up a bit. Was this your desk?”

A terrible lie.

Wang Lian’s eyes flicked back and forth, and the trace of humanity on his face vanished.

“You were away from your post during work hours and stole from me. You violated the cinema rules. You are fired.”

Ruan Xing’s fingers brushed over the gun at his waist.

Wang Lian stepped forward, his movements unnervingly slow and precise, like a wind-up toy.

"Guest, you are not permitted to be in the theater outside of designated break times. You should be in Theater 4."

Ruan Xing’s response was a gunshot, which seemed to trigger some kind of defense mechanism.

Without hesitation, Ruan Xing grabbed a jacket from one of the workstations and flung it straight at Wang Lian’s head. His aim was precise as the jacket completely covered Wang Lian’s face.

As it flew through the air, something small and shiny slipped out and hit the ground with a soft, metallic ding, which caused Wang Lian to pause.

Seizing the opportunity, Ruan Xing bolted out of the office.

However, as if Wang Lian’s earlier words had triggered some kind of rule, after Ruan Xing was "fired," the entire environment seemed to grow even more eerie.

Moreover, even though he had clearly run to the second-floor hallway, he suddenly found himself standing in front of Theater 4.

The theater door was left open, and the sound of a movie playing drifted from inside.

Behind him, the sound of Wang Lian’s footsteps drew closer, clearly coming after him.