After catching sight of the lady's bloodied mouth, Droit wastes no time in fleeing down the stairs. Each floor requires navigating two sets of stairs, and as he descends to the tenth floor, he can't resist stealing a glance behind him. Surprisingly, the lady remains frozen at the entrance, like a statue in a haunted house.

Droit's curiosity gets the better of him. Why isn't she chasing him? Is she on a snack break or something? Then it hits him—those words from the mysterious caller echo in his mind: "Always check your back!" It dawns on him that as long as he faces her, she can't move a muscle. It's like some bizarre game of freeze tag.

With newfound confidence, Droit takes a step back, keeping his eyes locked on the eerie lady. To his relief, she stays put, as if trapped in a supernatural time-out. It's like he has discovered her kryptonite—a simple rule to survive this twisted dimension—never turn your back on the creepy creatures lurking in the shadows.

Feeling a mix of relief and curiosity, Droit continues his descent, marveling at the strange rules of this unpredictable world. Little does he know that more surprises await him just around the corner.

Feeling a mix of relief and curiosity, Droit continues his descent, marveling at the strange rules of this unpredictable world. Little did he know that more surprises awaited him just around the corner.

As Droit observes the frozen lady, a sense of relief washes over him. He takes a deep breath and covers his eyes with his trembling hands, hoping to release some of the built-up tension. With a momentary respite, he slowly removes his hands from his face, expecting to find her still frozen in place. But what he sees makes him pee in his pants.

Right before him, the lady's grotesque mouth is poised inches away from his face, ready to sink its teeth into his flesh. Droit's eyes widen, and a scream catches in his throat. He can see every horrifying detail inside her mouth, a sight that sears into his memory.

In that heart-stopping moment, Droit realizes the truth—it has nothing to do with his back. The lady can't move when someone has their eyes on her. It is the act of watching, of maintaining unwavering eye contact, that keeps her at bay. Blinking is not an option when she draws near.

The realization hits Droit like a ton of bricks, intensifying his fear. He can't even blink, let alone turn away, or she will seize the opportunity to strike. Every fiber of his being screams at him to maintain his gaze, to keep his eyes locked with hers, no matter how unsettling it feels. In this twisted dimension, his survival hinges on his ability to stare down the horrors that lurk in the shadows.

Trembling, Droit summons every ounce of his willpower and musters the strength to hold his gaze, his eyes burning, while his mind races for a way out. The game has changed, and he needs to adapt quickly if he wants to escape this nightmare alive.

Droit continues his descent down the stairs, his gaze fixed on the lady as she remains within his sight. With each blink, he senses her insidious presence drawing nearer, inch by unnerving inch. The weight of the situation hangs heavy on his shoulders, amplifying his anxiety.

As he reaches the 9th-floor stairs, the lady disappears from his line of sight. A shiver runs down his spine, for now, she can roam freely in the upper floors, lurking in the shadows beyond his field of vision. The uncertainty of her whereabouts fills him with unease, a constant reminder that danger may be lurking just out of sight.

Undeterred, Droit continues his descent, his heart pounding with each step. Midway down, a surge of apprehension compels him to halt. He closes his eyes, in a desperate attempt to confirm if she is still trailing behind him. Moments pass, tension gripping his entire being. With a hesitant breath, he opens his eyes, relieved to find the lady's absence.

Seizing this brief respite, Droit allows himself a moment to catch his breath. He finds a spot on the 9th-floor stairs and carefully positions himself with his back against the wall. This strategic move grants him a vantage point to survey his surroundings, ensuring he can swiftly detect any signs of her return.

Droit realizes that he has wet his pants for the first time since kindergarten. Memories of his school days and cherished friends flood his thoughts, intensifying his longing for their presence. Determined not to lose hope, he resolves to find a way out of this nightmarish place. Rising to his feet, he places his hands on his waist and stretches his body, trying to ease his tension. But as he leans back, his gaze lands on the ceiling, where the lady hovers directly above him, her gaze fixed upon him. Despite lacking eyes, Droit can sense her intense stare, sending a shiver down his spine, further fueling his sense of dread. The sight of her long, red tongue protruding from her mouth only adds to his growing unease.

Fixing his intense gaze on the lady, Droit's laughter takes on a menacing tone, his eyes straining to stay locked on her. After a moment, his laughter subsides, and he resorts to blinking, hoping to lure her closer. Inch by inch, her face draws near, and seizing the opportunity, Droit unleashes a powerful punch. To his dismay, the lady remains unaffected, and the impact only results in pain radiating through his own hand. Droit's voice echoes through the empty corridor as he shouts, "You, BITCH!! Just leave me alone." Tears stream down his face, blurring his vision, but he refuses to let fear overcome him. Determinedly, he continues his descent, his eyes burning from the strain of constant crying, yet he pushes on without stopping or blinking.

Reaching the 8th-floor lobby, Droit's gaze falls upon two apartments lacking any locks. Without wasting a moment, Droit swings open the nearest door and steps inside, keeping his back facing the entrance. As he enters, his eyes catch sight of someone already present in the room, and he swiftly turns around to get a better look. A man sits calmly in a sofa chair, seemingly unaware of the imminent danger.

With a sense of urgency, Droit tries to warn the man about the approaching threat, but before he can utter a word, the lady strikes from behind. Droit is caught off guard, losing his balance and crashing to the floor. In pain and distress, he desperately cries out for help, hoping the man in the room will come to his aid.

The man's gaze shifts toward the attacking lady. With a calm and collected demeanor, he swiftly intervenes, halting her mid-attack. It becomes evident that this man possesses knowledge of how to restrain her.

Seated in an intriguing pose, facing sideways with only his left side revealed, the man emanates an aura of intrigue. He appears to be around 30 years old, with his short black hair adding to his enigmatic charm. His captivating green eyes exude wisdom and experience. Dressed in a polished brown suit, he holds a glass of whisky in his right hand, maintaining a sense of poise amidst the tumultuous situation.

The man: "Hey there."

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Droit: "Help!"

The man: "What do you think I am doing right now? Get up already. And close the door."

Droit gets up and looks behind at the lady.

Droit: "You know about her?"

The man: "Well, yes. I also know how to get rid of her."

Droit: "Tell me."

The man: "If I were to tell you, it would be reluctantly, as she would also become aware. But take her to the last room, and I think you will know what to do. And if not, then it was nice talking to someone, even if it was for a little bit."

Droit: "Could you help me and come with me to the room?"

The man: "Believe me, if I could, I would. But this is something you have to do on your own."

Droit: "Okay."

Droit takes the lady to the room, blinking rapidly. They pass by the man, who keeps his eyes closed to allow the lady to move freely. The bedroom is simple, with a TV in front, a bed in the rear, and an almirah (wardrobe) on the right. On the left, there is a gate leading to the bathroom. Droit explores the room, relying on his peripheral vision to understand its layout. He sits on the bed and begins to devise a plan to stop the lady. The idea of locking her inside the almirah crosses his mind, but he realizes it's not feasible. After pondering for a while, a new idea strikes him. He decides to turn the entire room into a makeshift almirah and lock her inside. Carefully, he locks her in the room and steps out.

*Snap*

Fear overtakes Droit once again as the lady's hand breaks through the gate, relentlessly smashing it. It's clear that a flimsy gate won't hold her back. Droit rushes back into the room, racking his brain for a new plan to get rid of her. But time ticks away, and his unease grows. It's been over an hour now, and nature calls. He's got to pee.

As Droit enters the washroom, he notices someone standing on his right side and looks at them in confusion. To his relief, he realizes it's just a big mirror on the wall, not a person. However, at the same time, the lady clenches her teeth around Droit's right shoulder, biting deep into his flesh, causing intense pain. He gazes at the lady and manages to halt her attack. A wave of sadness washes over Droit as he realizes that this might be his final moment. He understands that she has him trapped. With each passing minute, he struggles to keep his eyes wide open, knowing that if he dares to close them, it will spell his ultimate defeat. Even if he tries to flee, he senses that she will inevitably catch up to him. The stakes are high, and the mere act of closing his eyes could result in his ultimate demise.

In a moment of desperation, just before surrendering to his fate, Droit finds a glimmer of hope. A plan forms in his mind, and with a surge of determination, he frees his shoulder from the lady's grip. Taking a strategic position between her and the mirror, he closes his eyes tightly, bracing himself for what comes next. Counting silently, he waits for a full two seconds, and then with a sense of anticipation, he slowly opens his eyes and smiles.

To his astonishment, he witnesses a remarkable sight in the reflection of the mirror. The lady, trapped within her own reflection, appears immobilized. The once-sealed horizontal line on her forehead is now ajar, revealing an empty void. No trace of her terrifying presence can be seen inside, only a trickle of blood seeping out. It is a moment of triumph for Droit, as he realizes that he has discovered a way to confine the lady within her own reflection, rendering her powerless.

Relieved and overjoyed by his victory, Droit averts his gaze from her, relieves himself in the toilet, and exits the room.