Chapter6

Anything could be brought into the dungeon, as long as the survivor thought it was useful—even a rocket launcher would be allowed in.

But after countless tries, it was proven that military-grade gear couldn't hurt spectral beings—only functional items within the dungeon could. Things brought from outside had no effect on the spirits.

Still, people brought weapons for the sense of security, even if it was just psychological comfort.

The audience saw Jiang Che's current state and immediately cracked up.

[If I hadn't seen the jewelry, cigarettes, booze, and a few dolls in his suitcase, I really would've thought he'd got some secret weapon.]

[Does he think he can bribe the spirits with jewels or what?]

[I'm dying, everyone else is packing heat, he's packing cash.]

[See, that's why he's mentally ill—a normal person he's not.]

...

Jiang Che patiently stood out in the open. His heartbeat raced, same as everyone else's, wild rhythm pounding.

Red Pearl Mental Hospital was shrouded in a thin gray mist, and as the fog finally covered it in full, everyone vanished from the hospital.

When the world cleared up again, Jiang Che found himself standing at the door of a two-story standalone house.

The house's entrance was closed tight; it didn't look like anyone was home.

He squeezed his suitcase harder, looking around.

He realized that, just a moment ago, the orderlies and rich folks standing near him were nowhere to be seen.

He sized up his surroundings.

This was the heart of an old neighborhood. The plants in the flowerbed looked like charred wood after a fire, traces of the flames faintly lingering. The walls of the standalone house were marked by scorch and burn, the air filled with the reek of old, rotting smoke.