Chapter Five: The Footsteps Behind

Four figures groped their way forward through the dense fog.

The mist was so thick that they could see nothing beyond a few feet. The heavy fog obscured any sense of whether it was day or night.

Zhou Fang’s usual playboy habits proved crucial; their phones were either smashed during the escape or dead of battery. The only tool they had left to tell time was a secondhand luxury watch that Zhou Fang had barely managed to cobble together.

It was currently 1:40 a.m.

They had been walking through this thick fog for three and a half hours. During that time, Li Meng had knocked Shen Lin unconscious five times due to misreading his hand signals; beyond that, nothing else had happened.

The mind is a strange thing. When you force yourself not to think about something, it stubbornly drifts back unbidden. Shen Lin nearly fell into that trap once, but thankfully Li Meng acted just in time.

He dared not reveal the pattern of the killings to the other three. Fear engulfed them now, leaving no room for other thoughts. In fact, if he exposed that truth, it might well lead to their deaths.

“Linzi, where are we going?” Li Meng dragged his weary body after Shen Lin. Normally, he wouldn’t exercise for this long. His body was already overweight, and after hours without a drop of water, he felt utterly drained.

Zhou Fang and Sun Yue also looked on expectantly, eager to hear a destination from Shen Lin, one that was reliable enough to raise their chances of survival.

But they were destined for disappointment.

“Just follow me. No more nonsense,” Shen Lin snapped.

Of course, he couldn’t say that he himself had no idea where this aimless wandering would lead them.

He wanted to reach Zhang Ming’s location, but in the ghostly domain, the directions he knew no longer applied. They could only wander blindly, hoping to find an ideal path by chance.

In other words, Shen Lin was like a gambler with terrible odds, clueless about how to bet or where to place his stakes. All he knew was the possibility of winning, but given the current situation, that knowledge was useless.

“Wait, something’s there.” Shen Lin stopped abruptly and whispered sharply.

Through the mist appeared a group of seven or eight people, mostly women, all looking haggard. They seemed numb from prolonged exhaustion; their faces showed only despair and a desperate will to live, but little fear.

Still alive? Shen Lin was suspicious. Had that ghost not tried to lure them? Or were they, like these three, so consumed by fear they had no time to think?

“Hey, little brothers, do you have any food?” The leader of the group, a tall, thin middle-aged man, was the first to speak.

The Anhe Residential Complex, one of the major developments in downtown Daxia City, housed tens of thousands. Shen Lin’s parents had both died, and with his introverted nature, he barely knew the neighbors upstairs and downstairs after three years, let alone the other residents.

“No,” Shen Lin replied, his gaze sweeping swiftly over the group with a strange expression.

He sensed something off about them, though he couldn’t say exactly what.

“Little brothers, want to join us? There’s safety in numbers,” the tall man with the leader’s air said kindly, inviting Shen Lin’s group to join them.

Zhou Fang’s face darkened immediately; he was dead set against joining. More people meant more strength, but also more danger.

So far, numbers hadn’t mattered much against the monster. They had survived so far by following Shen Lin, which at least proved that he had a way to stay alive.

In moments of despair, few people are not selfish.

Zhou Fang desperately hoped they wouldn’t join, as in his view, these people were nothing but dead weight.

But he couldn’t control Shen Lin’s decision, for Shen Lin was the one in charge.

“No need, thanks,” Shen Lin replied, then moved forward. Zhou Fang exhaled deeply and hurried to follow.

The figures soon disappeared into the fog.

“How much strength do you have left?” Shen Lin asked gravely.

“Still... okay,” the three replied, trembling as if they sensed something in his tone.

“Listen carefully. Follow my lead. When I say run, run. Don’t hesitate,” Shen Lin instructed.

They nodded like obedient children. Even though they were weak, they knew that survival depended on it.

“Thump, thump, thump...”

Eerie footsteps echoed, like cries from the netherworld, or a death knell drawing near.

Shen Lin narrowed his eyes, listening closely to the advancing footsteps. A lump rose in his throat; he was ready to shout at any moment.

When the footsteps grew terrifyingly close, Shen Lin yelled:

“Run!”

The four sprang forward, running straight ahead without daring to glance back.

Li Meng was completely spent, running with every ounce of strength he had left, imagining a fierce ghost chasing him.

Despite their exhaustion, they were not as fast as they wished.

Their pace was as slow as turtles compared to normal, but it was enough—the footsteps behind them gradually faded until silence returned.

Panting heavily, they collapsed to the ground, and before them lay a shining golden object.

“Gold!” Shen Lin’s trembling voice betrayed his surprise and delight.

It was known that most things were useless against the resurrected horrors, except for one thing that never failed: gold.

Of course, gold itself was neither offensive nor supernatural.

If a ghost was like an electric current, then gold was an insulator.

Supernatural forces could neither affect nor penetrate gold.

The gold before them was sizable, shaped like a coffin.

Shen Lin didn’t act rashly; he began to ponder.

What did a golden coffin in the ghost domain signify?

Was it a reserve of supplies Zhang Ming had prepared for this crisis, stored here but never used?

Or had the headquarters’ so-called reinforcements for ghost tamers arrived but met with disaster, leaving this coffin as their legacy?

Or was it a humanitarian gesture from headquarters, preparing coffins to help some residents survive, brought in by ghost tamers and placed randomly as a sign of hope?

The coffin was open, revealing a strange small box inside. The box contained what looked like a controller—something like a gamepad with a screen.

Before Shen Lin could think further, footsteps echoed again behind them. Teeth clenched, he called the others to their feet and pointed to the coffin.

“Get in. Fat guy first, then Zhou Fang, then me, last is Sun Yue.”

The three were stunned, not quite understanding what was happening.

“What are you waiting for? Waiting to die? Get in! Now!” Shen Lin roared. The footsteps grew louder; the three obeyed immediately.

They piled on top of each other like sandbags until the coffin lid closed. Four people barely fit inside, cramped and awkward, in a space so confined it would normally be unbearable.

But to them now, it was paradise.

The relentless drumming of footsteps swirled around the golden coffin. They could almost picture the scene outside.

A horde of creatures, neither fully human nor ghost, circled the coffin helplessly.

After an unknown length of time, the sounds faded.

Li Meng’s shaky voice broke the silence.

“Linzi, what’s going on?”

Shen Lin exhaled with relief.

“Gold blocks supernatural powers, but only as a barrier. We’re safe for now.”

“How long before we can get out?” Zhou Fang asked eagerly at the word “safe.”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what this golden coffin really is, but for now, it’s a good thing,” Shen Lin replied.

They had caught their breath, and Shen Lin began to consider their next move.

“Was that thing just now the monster?” Sun Yue asked, her voice trembling with lingering fear she barely dared to express.

“Don’t know. Probably not. More like the group we met earlier,” Shen Lin said.

“What? Are you crazy? At a time like this, they still mess with us? Don’t they fear death?” Li Meng and Zhou Fang both grew angry. They had thought it was a ghost, but it turned out to be people. If they’d known, they’d have taken them out immediately instead of running.

“How do you know they’re human?” Shen Lin sighed.

“What? Not human? They looked normal,” the three said, confused beyond words. Since tonight began, they seemed trapped in a fog of uncertainty.

“I’ve told you many times: don’t use your common sense or the ghosts of old legends to understand this horror. They are nothing like what you imagine,” Shen Lin explained.

“There are many types of ghost domains, with slight differences in power, but one thing is core: in the ghost domain, the master controls what you see.”

“Your senses, cognition, even your thoughts.”

“The people in front of you may seem like normal human students, but in reality, they could be long-dead corpses. Conversations and interactions with them might all be illusions presented by the ghost domain,” Shen Lin said.

“Then why didn’t they attack us then?” Li Meng asked.

“Not sure. Could be a fixed rule, a coincidence that we met them, or maybe they weren’t originally targeting us, and our encounter changed their focus,” Shen Lin said.

Too many guesses. He could only act with utmost caution.

Always plan for the worst. Maybe those people were students. Maybe Shen Lin’s unease was just nerves under pressure. The footsteps later could be from another terror.

In such circumstances, caution could never be too much.

Silence fell; they were exhausted. Li Meng even felt drowsy after hearing they were safe.

Shen Lin began fiddling with the controller in his hand. There was a switch on its back; a light flickered on as he flipped it.

Struggling with one hand, he started trying to operate it.

In the cramped space, the small screen on the controller lit up, then showed an image.

It appeared to be a map!