The pale hand that grabbed John was met with his reflexive response; he quickly pulled out the Bloodied Bone Mallet and swung it towards the intrusion.

The hand withdrew like a bolt of lightning!

It belonged to the wife from the family of three. She looked at the injury on the back of her hand and said faintly, "I meant no harm; I just wanted to ask for your help."

"You can just ask; there's no need to grab someone so suddenly when opening a door—it could lead to trouble!" John said, thinking to himself that this whole family seemed to be mentally disturbed.

"I'm worried that bastard has come back..."

John knew she was referring to her husband and asked, "What do you need?"

"Come inside, and we'll talk."

John hesitated for a moment as he looked at the ajar door but eventually stepped inside.

The room was not as disheveled as the last time, but in the kitchen, a cleaver was embedded in the cutting board, surrounded by fresh blood and minced meat.

"Hee hee hee hee..."

The child from the family of three sat on a stool, staring at John with a strange laugh, his eyes gleaming as if he had seen something delicious, sending shivers down John's spine.

"Here, have some soup."

The hostess was very enthusiastic, bringing over a bowl of soup.

John glanced at the soup and noticed a human finger with a ring still on it.

Human flesh.

Considering the habit of the residents of Blood Garment Apartments to go out for groceries in the morning, and combining it with the mother and son he had seen on the ghost bus last time, John could almost confirm that there was a market in Thriller World that specialized in slaughtering humans for sale.

"Just tell me what you want," John said, setting the hot soup aside.

The wife glanced at her son and said, "I want you to help me kill my husband!"

Given that this couple seemed to want each other dead every day, John wasn't surprised by such an outrageous request.

"Why me? And besides, your husband seems as hard to kill as a cockroach; I doubt I can do it!"

Surviving a knife to the throat and being pushed from the fourth floor, only to run back alive, showed a remarkable tenacity for life.

Although he thought this, John felt that he could probably kill him with the Ghost Burying Stone, after all, it was no ordinary ghost item.

"He's indeed hard to kill, but there is one person who can kill that bastard."

"Who?"

"My daughter."

John looked at the child on the stool, he was indeed laughing eerily and did have male attributes, somewhat astonished, "You have a daughter?"

"Yes."

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The wife revealed a deeply sorrowful smile, "Our daughter was strangled to death by her own father!"

"That bastard, every time he came back drunk, he would grab my hair and beat me. I got used to it. Once, I was beaten to within an inch of my life, and my daughter, scared as she was, came out of her room and begged him to stop. Then he just strangled his own daughter to death..."

After speaking, the hostess's face was expressionless, but her mouth twisted into a smile, a laugh filled with desolate resentment.

John fell silent.

He realized that the residents of the apartment didn't know they were ghosts. This meant that the stories the wife was telling were real events that had happened to them in life.

Real tragedies!

Despite feeling oppressed, John still asked, "Where is your daughter now?"

"Room 301, that's where we used to live. She's trapped there, unable to go anywhere."

"I can feel that my daughter is in pain, and her only hope is to personally drag that bastard to death with her," the wife said.

"Ding, the host has triggered a passive quest, a plea for help from the resident of 404. Lead the husband to room 301 to complete the mission."

"Mission level: D."

"Refusal is possible; once confirmed, it cannot be changed."

John thought for a moment and then confirmed the mission.

It wasn't just to gain the residents' fondness; dealing with such inhuman scum was something John was more than willing to do.

He had thought this family of three were all oddities. Now he realized that the wife and son had become this deranged, likely all because of that bastard father!

"You can't lead him to room 301?" John asked.

"He knows his daughter is in that room and he doesn't even dare to step into the third floor corridor," the wife replied.

"But I think you might have a way. Can you help me?"

"I'll try, but I can't guarantee success." John stuck to his usual response.

"It's okay, you're a kind soul," the hostess said with a slight smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down for a meal?"

"No, maybe next time."

John left room 404.

"Pal, a piece of MythiCarn, can you help out?" Back in his room, John was straightforward.

"Just say it, what do you want to do?" The Blood-Eye Ghost had no resistance to MythiCarn.

"Team up to get that bastard ghost into room 301."

"You're too naive," the Blood-Eye Ghost said indifferently. "But, if you want to try, go ahead."

According to the neighborly hostess, her husband would be out gambling every day from noon until three, only returning after that.

John got ready, glanced at the clock on the wall, and headed to the third-floor corridor just before three o'clock.

There were three original residents on the third floor, the other two being participants "Black Rose" and "Cherry Cupcake," residing in rooms 302 and 306, respectively.

John arrived on the third floor and happened to run into Cherry Cupcake.

She was carrying a big bag of food, not sustenance for hunger, but snacks for passing the time.

John felt somewhat speechless. Was this little girl here on vacation?

Cherry Cupcake, seeing John, said with some surprise, "Oh, demon angel, you're still alive?"

John didn't mind her peculiar way of greeting and, thinking of the shadow that had followed the little girl yesterday, asked, "How's your instance going?"

"Not a bit of progress."

"The residents here are too difficult to deal with. Yesterday, I took my beloved snacks to get to know the neighbor. But when they opened the door and saw my snacks, they snatched them away and slammed the door shut!"

"That was my week's worth of snacks, and after taking them, they just ignored me. It's really bullying!" Cherry Cupcake said with a pout. "So, I'm not interested in the instance mission anymore. I'll just stay for ten days and then leave!"

John thought to himself, thankfully you didn't try to open room 301, who knows what would have happened.

"What about you?" Cherry Cupcake asked, tilting her head.

"I'm doing alright, finished a D-level instance mission, now working on the second one," John replied.

"Not bad at all, I didn't expect you to be so good on your first instance!"

As she spoke, Cherry Cupcake picked up a bag of chips, thought better of it, and reluctantly exchanged it for a lollipop, which she handed to John: "Here, good luck!"

"You eat it," John declined the treat from the snack-lover.

Then he asked, "Have you noticed any strange residents on the third floor?"

"What kind of strange?"

"Peeping, sneaky behavior."

Cherry Cupcake pouted her lips and pondered, "I don't think so."

John nodded, not pressing further. Cherry Cupcake seemed a bit simple-minded; she probably wouldn't notice if she was being watched and wouldn't have much to tell.

As they were talking, a noise came from the corridor.

John tensed up, thinking it might be that bastard husband returning.

But when he turned to look, he saw a beautiful woman—it was participant Black Rose.

She glanced at John and Cherry Cupcake, her indifferent face showing little change, and then she turned to leave.

In her hand, she carried a basket filled with blood-stained toy parts...