Wang Lian's expression was grim. He moved swiftly, wielding a fire axe in his hand as he swung it directly at Ruan Xing.

Ruan Xing dodged, slipping through the narrow gap of the door into Theater 4. The blade embedded itself halfway into the doorframe, the red edge stopping just two centimeters from his side.

But that was it—Wang Lian didn’t follow him inside.

"The guests should be watching the movie in Hall 4 by now."

Ruan Xing recalled Wang Lian’s words. It seemed that forcing him into Theater 4 had been his true goal all along.

Theater 4 felt like a tomb. One by one, people were driven inside, neatly arranged in rows as if their fate was meticulously planned.

If Ruan Xing hadn’t entered through employment, he likely would have ended up here from the start, watching the movie with the rest of them.

He had no idea what would happen if he watched the entire film, but at this point, he no longer had a choice.

Without hesitation, he turned and stepped inside.

Since he hadn’t entered the employee passage, he faced the massive theater screen directly.

The footage was from a shaky handheld camera with blurry visuals. But the woman’s screams and the man’s heavy breathing echoed throughout the entire theater through the high-quality speakers.

Sharp and Piercing.

Onscreen, their bodies were magnified several times over. The woman’s pale skin was marked with wounds so gruesome it was hard to look at. It was beyond brutal.

These violent, crime-ridden visuals crashed into Ruan Xing’s vision, making his breath hitch for a moment.

And the audience—those so-called guests of Theater 4—had their nostrils flared, eyes bulging, and saliva dripping uncontrollably from their mouths. If not for being physically restrained in their seats, they might have thrown themselves into the screen to participate.

They resembled starving ducks in a cage, their necks stretching out as if their owner had just arrived with a bucket of feed. Their necks grew longer and longer—already three times the length of a normal human's.

The show was pure horror, but the audience wore faces of sheer ecstasy.

An absurd, depraved, grotesque spectacle.

Even with Ruan Xing’s extensive experiences, he had no idea what expression he should be wearing right now.

Why was Theater 4 playing something like this?

He clearly remembered that it had been showing a romantic comedy the last time he was here. The bride and groom even smiled at him.

In the very front row, the cinema owner’s massive body was squeezed into the central seat. His bloodshot eyes were protruding from their sockets while his ragged breathing was filled with excitement. His hand moved erratically, and he let out a monstrous howl of pleasure—eerily in sync with the voices from the screen.

"S**t!" someone screamed from the movie.

Outside the screen, the owner shouted, "W***e!"

The voices synchronized with unsettling harmony.

No one noticed Ruan Xing as he raised the gun in his hand.

But before he could act, flames erupted out of nowhere. Thick smoke began rising from beneath the seats, quickly engulfing the theater.

The very same audience that had been reveling in ecstasy moments ago now wore expressions of sheer panic as if mourning the death of a loved one.

They scrambled to their feet, desperate to escape.

Chaos erupted as they surged forward, charging toward the door where Wang Lian had struck with his axe.

But at some point, the theater doors had somehow closed.

"Open the door! There's a fire! Hurry, open up!"

"Please, let us out!"

"Is anyone out there?!"

So… there really was a fire.

Ruan Xing crouched in the farthest corner of the theater, watching as flames licked their way up from beneath the seats.

All the guests had gathered at the exit, leaving the rest of the theater empty.

This place wouldn’t be safe for long.

Ruan Xing stealthily moved toward the employee passage, only to find that it was locked.

"I remember you, boy."

The owner's massive body trembled as he followed closely behind Ruan Xing. His face, covered in layers of fat, twisted into a manic grin.

"I always remember the beauties."

"So it was you who shut the doors and wouldn’t let us leave? We’ve already suffered so much—why won’t you let us go?!" the owner snarled viciously. "At least Wang Lian has some conscience. He actually sent you in here. How was the movie? Did you enjoy it? I was so thrilled!"

His bloated body shuddered while his voice dripped with depraved desire.

"It’s a pity you’re a man. Otherwise, I’d be happy to accompany you. But that’s alright. Just stay here. Theater 4 will show you what true pleasure is."

Fu Gui: [This disgusting old bastard should look at a mirror and ask himself if he is worthy! Disgusting! Ptooey!]

Ruan Xing didn’t respond because he noticed that the other guests in Theater 4 had stopped pleading for help. Their expressions were blank as they slowly turned their heads toward him.

The flames devoured everything mercilessly. The seats ignited, and smoke rolled in like thick waves.

The owner shrieked with maniacal laughter: "This fire will kill us all! It will kill you too!"

He was lost in memories as his expression twisted between pain and regret. At the same time, his entire body—fat and clothing alike—began to melt like wax.

A thick, semi-solid black liquid dripped down his face, and flames began to climb up his body, turning him into a walking inferno. His massive frame, packed with yellow fat, became his endless fuel source.

Fu Gui: [This thing must be the boss! The pollution level is way too high!]

Taking advantage of their distraction, Ruan Xing shot the lock and quickly followed the employee's passage to escape. Along with him, the charred remnants of the guests also stumbled out.

Wang Lian stood guard at the stairwell entrance. Seeing Ruan Xing emerge, he made no move, only flashing a strange smile as if to say, 'Let’s see how far you can run.'

Fu Gui, like a lit firecracker, launched into indiscriminate verbal attacks:

[If it weren’t for a scum like you, we wouldn’t be trapped here! What the hell are you laughing at?!]

Ruan Xing moved swiftly. His body had already adapted to this level of exertion and was no longer sluggish like before.

Reaching the far end of the corridor, he entered the boss’s office and quickly locked the door.

He scanned his surroundings and noticed a large cabinet used for storing documents which could serve as a temporary barricade.

With great effort, Ruan Xing leaned against the cabinet, slowly dragging it to block the door.

Though his body had adapted, as a mage, he still found physical labor difficult.

Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Fu Gui let out a startled cry: [There’s a door here!]

Ruan Xing had already found it strange that the boss’s office had no windows.

In primitive times, light meant safety. After discovering fire, humans gained the ability to fend off wild beasts, and their instinct to seek light became ingrained in their genes.

It was clearly suspicious for an office to have no windows. Only when Ruan Xing opened the hidden door behind the cabinet did he realize there was a window, but it was just concealed.

Beyond the door lay a room as spacious as the connected office, with a massive floor-to-ceiling window on the right. But outside, all was shrouded in misty darkness, as if it was cut off from the rest of the world.

This was likely the boundary of the “polluted zone” Fu Gui had mentioned.

No one knew what lay beyond the polluted zone. Those who entered were never heard from again. And even if someone did return, who could be certain that what came back was truly the same person and not... something else?

The office decor was far more refined than the one outside. At the center stood a much larger and longer desk, spacious enough for a person to lie on.

A bright red flowerpot sat atop the desk. But its contents looked anything but friendly—black, razor-sharp leaves that seemed capable of cutting through a person’s neck at any moment.

Inside the room, there was another cabinet. But this time, it didn’t contain ordinary documents.

Ruan Xing noticed that the files were neatly categorized into several folders:

[Theater 4 Guest List]

[Goods Inventory]

[Financial Records]

...

Ruan Xing opened one of the files.

[Chen Jia, Female, Orphan from the Quarantine Zone, 18 years old, Nightclub Hostess, Simple Social Connections, Awakening Probability: 32%... Overall Rating: Two Stars.]

[Living conditions meet requirements. Recommended for acquisition.]

[Li Yiyi, Female, Quarantine Zone Resident, Office Worker, 36 years old, Slightly Older, Awakening Probability: 29%... Overall Rating: Two and a Half Stars.]

...

Attached to the documents were numerous photographs—candid shots, ID photos, even surveillance footage.

Row upon row, it was an overwhelming sight. These people were cataloged like merchandise, assessed, recorded, and stored.

Ruan Xing’s hands gradually stopped flipping through the pages.

He had found a familiar face.

[Zhao Lian, 28 years old, Quarantine Zone Resident, Actress, Awakening Probability: 33%, Frequently Visits Happiness Cinema, Active Hours: Midnight to Noon... Overall Rating: Two Stars.]

[Highly routine lifestyle. Not recommended for acquisition. Discard.]

A red stamp marked her fate.

Discard?

What does that mean?

How were these details obtained? Who decided these ratings?

The cinema owner?

But if she had been “discarded,” then why had Ruan Xing seen her on the screen in Theater 4?

So many questions but too little information. Unfortunately, there was no time to dwell on them since a massive figure had already broken into the next room and was pounding on the door.

Ruan Xing scanned the room and noticed the long desk—large enough for someone to hide beneath.

Underneath the desk, he found a secret compartment packed with photographs.

Ruan Xing pressed his lips into a thin line.

Fu Gui wanted to say something, but before it could, Ruan Xing pressed his hand against its head.

The boss barged in.

The flames that had engulfed him were gone, but he was now visibly thinner, as if much of him had been burned away.

Nearly naked, his melted fat had solidified like wax, turning him into a walking mass of half-molten flesh that oozed an oily sheen with every step he took.

His half-destroyed eyes scanned the room and locked onto the desk with a grin on his deformed face.

"I know you’re in there."