Gao Yang was still reminiscing, "So that feeling I had earlier, you've experienced it twice, no, three times already?"

"Yes."

"No wonder you're so eager to level up!" Gao Yang truly understood Qing Ling now: Honestly, that one or two seconds of leveling up felt euphoric, like soaring to the heavens on the spot.

Qing Ling caught the underlying meaning in Gao Yang’s words, a flicker of disdain passing through her eyes.

"Gao Yang, you’ve leveled up your abilities? That’s great, our chances of winning just increased a bit." Officer Huang had woken up. His first instinct was to look for a cigarette, but all he found was an empty pack in his chest pocket.

"No need to emphasize 'a bit'," Gao Yang mocked himself.

Officer Huang tossed the empty cigarette pack aside, stood up, stretched, and habitually checked the bullets in his gun before holstering it again.

Fat Jun, still groggy, shivered as a cold breeze swept through. Instinctively, he shuffled closer to Gao Yang and Qing Ling.

Officer Huang glanced at Wang Zikai, who was breathing steadily in his sleep. "This kid seems fine."

"He should be alright," Gao Yang replied.

"It’s truly the most amazing..." Officer Huang trailed off, smiling without finishing his sentence.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"We’d better not spend the night here," Qing Ling suggested.

Officer Huang looked around and nodded. "True, this place isn't ideal for resting. My back is killing me."

"..."

"Just kidding," Officer Huang said, casting his gaze toward the shadowy forest, where faint light flickered from the direction of Gujia Village. "Once they’re all asleep, we’ll head into the village."

"Huh? We're going back?" Fat Jun grumbled.

"It’s not safe here," Gao Yang explained, "Pitch black with no cover. We’d be sitting ducks for a night attack."

Qing Ling glanced at Fat Jun. "You’d be the first to die."

Under the moonlight, Fat Jun's face turned pale, his lips quivering. He struggled to get up, failing miserably. "Let’s go back! We need to get back to the village!"

...

As night deepened, everyone in Gujia Village had fallen asleep, except for the dimly lit funeral hall at the mountaintop, where someone still kept vigil. Wang Zikai had sobered up, and under Officer Huang's lead, the group of five quietly made their way out of the woods, across the vegetable fields and pond, to the village entrance.

Upon entering, they turned left and approached a hundred-square-meter rammed earth house. The front yard, covered in concrete, had a makeshift chicken coop of wood and fences. Police tape still surrounded the area, marking it as a crime scene. Officer Huang tore off the tape and led the way inside.

"Ah..." Fat Jun, about to scream, quickly covered his mouth. Under the moonlight, he could see the faded bloodstains on the concrete, scattered all over.

"Officer Huang, you don’t mean to..." Fat Jun trailed off.

"Exactly," Officer Huang nodded, "We’ll rest here tonight."

"But... but this place... five people died here... they were chopped into pieces..." Fat Jun stammered in panic.

No one responded. The group crossed the yard and approached the main house, where a seal was pasted on the door. Dried corn and red peppers hung from the eaves, and stacks of firewood lay nearby.

Officer Huang tore off the seal, gently pushing the door open.

"Creaaak, creaaak, creak—" The door slowly opened, and everyone involuntarily took a deep breath.