Volume One: The Phantom Mansion Chapter Three: The Deadlock and the Corpse

“Ha, ha, ha!” Cheng Fan panted fiercely, the sharp pain on his tongue mingled with the taste of blood spreading through his mouth. He stared intently at the female ghost just inches away; her ghastly pale face was less than twenty centimeters from his own, her fingers frozen mid-air, sharp as knives.

“What… what’s going on?” Zhao Linxuan’s trembling voice came from behind. “Why isn’t she moving?”

Cheng Fan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he quickly took a few steps back to create distance and checked his phone: 12:04 a.m.

“Blood can immobilize her,” Cheng Fan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “But I don’t know how long it will last.”

Zhao Linxuan, still shaken, examined the ghost suspended midair.

Dressed in a blood-red gown with long hair cascading down, the most terrifying aspect was her face: eyes completely bloodshot, skin as white as paper, and faintly visible bluish veins beneath the surface.

“How did you know blood could stop her?” Zhao Linxuan suddenly realized. “And why did you stop everyone from using the elevator earlier upstairs?”

Cheng Fan’s mind raced. His innate ability was his greatest trump card and couldn’t be revealed lightly.

“I awakened a Level B talent called ‘Clue Investigation,’” Cheng Fan lied. “It lets me gain partial information about certain objects through observation.”

“When I was on the 20th floor, I happened to see an oil painting, and a clue just popped into my head.”

Listening to Cheng Fan’s explanation, Zhao Linxuan cautiously asked, “Was it a clue that blood could restrain the ghost?”

Cheng Fan shook his head. “No, at first I didn’t even know blood could hold her back. I only got the keyword ‘blood.’ The fact that I managed to stop her just now was a desperate gamble at death’s door. Luckily, I won the bet—otherwise, I’d be dead.”

“Just a keyword hint? If that’s true, then the warning about the elevator was…”

“Danger,” Cheng Fan lied without hesitation.

Zhao Linxuan finally understood. All her earlier doubts were answered. No wonder Cheng Xuan refused to take the elevator and warned others of its danger—it all made sense now.

Thinking of this, Zhao Linxuan instinctively glanced back at the oil painting. Seeing this, clever Cheng Fan immediately caught on and hastily added, “Well, I figured if there’s a hint about restraining the ghost on the 20th floor, maybe downstairs there are other paintings related to escape routes.”

“So that’s why you went straight to the 19th floor to check, right?”

Faced with Zhao Linxuan’s relentless questioning, Cheng Fan began to feel flustered, struggling to keep up his story. He quickly changed the subject. “By the way, I’m Cheng Fan, 20 years old, a freshman this year.”

“I’m Zhao Linxuan, 25,” she replied.

---

“What about you, Linxuan? What’s your talent?”

Out of curiosity, Cheng Fan immediately asked.

But before Zhao Linxuan could answer, a sudden creaking noise interrupted them.

Turning toward the sound, both were horrified to see the ghost’s fingers trembling slightly.

“She’s waking up!” Zhao Linxuan shouted.

Cheng Fan made a split-second decision. “Run!”

As the ghost began to move, no time remained for conversation; the two sprinted away.

At the same time, a long-standing question tormenting Cheng Fan was finally answered:

The ghost was invincible!

Even though blood could restrain her, even completely immobilize her, it couldn’t last long. The reason Cheng Fan hadn’t fled immediately after trapping the ghost was partly to answer Zhao Linxuan’s questions and mainly to test how long the blood would hold.

It was a reckless test—one that risked his life.

But he did it anyway, and the conclusion was clear: two minutes.

From the moment the blood hit her and froze her body until now, exactly two minutes had passed.

Frightened, the two escaped the floor and rushed toward the stairs, descending continuously.

One floor, two floors, three floors...

Cheng Fan lost track of how long they ran or how many floors they passed. But soon, with nearly half his stamina gone and the constant climb down the stair steps, his face darkened.

Damn it—it was exactly like in the simulations!

Cheng Fan and Zhao Linxuan both stopped.

“Ha, ha... what’s going on?” Zhao Linxuan panted, noticing something strange. “We’ve been running so long—why haven’t we reached the first floor?”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Cheng Fan answered bluntly, “It’s a ghost trap, most likely created by the ghost. As long as the trap’s active, we’ll never reach the first floor.”

---

“A ghost trap!?”

As expected, having heard ghost stories since childhood, Zhao Linxuan’s expression changed drastically upon hearing Cheng Fan’s guess.

Her face turned pale and grim, her body trembling slightly.

Still shaken, she asked, “But that’s not reasonable, right? They say the spirit realm never releases unsolvable supernatural challenges. If the entire staircase is trapped by a ghost trap, wouldn’t we be stuck in an endless loop? How could we escape? How do we get out of this building?”

Unlike before, Cheng Fan fell silent, contemplating after a quick glance down the corridor.

Zhao Linxuan was right: given the spirit realm wouldn’t release an unsolvable challenge, there must be a way out, and in theory, the building could be exited.

But the problem was...

I damn well can’t find the way out!

The elevator was a one-way in, no way out. The stairs were trapped in an infinite loop. Both paths were blocked.

Looks like I have to focus on analyzing the paintings.

Speaking of the paintings, if the first oil painting hinted at the ghost’s weakness—giving explorers a chance to barely survive an encounter—then the second painting likely held the key to escape, the way out of the building.

Yes, that must be it. If I can decipher the hidden meaning in the painting, I will definitely find a way to escape!

Boom!

Just as Cheng Fan was lost in thought, a dull thud came from below.

Startled by the noise, both Cheng Fan and Zhao Linxuan jumped.

It sounded like a heavy object falling.

They exchanged glances and simultaneously peered down.

At the stairwell’s corner below lay the twisted corpse of a man, his neck bent at an unnatural angle, eyes wide open in frozen terror.

It was the tattooed man—one of the four who had taken the elevator!

“How is this possible?”

Cheng Fan’s spine chilled. This man should have died inside the elevator. Why was he now in the stairwell?