As John gazed on, the old man suddenly looked up, fixing his gaze on him and said, "Young man, fancy a game of chess?"

"If you win, I'll waive a day's rent."

"If you lose, just give me something in exchange."

"No thanks, I'm terrible at chess."

Without giving the old man a chance to respond, John turned on his heel and bolted.

Climbing the stairs, John mulled over his plan to knock on a few tenants' doors after eating, aiming to at least lay the groundwork for some basic relationships.

Of course, that excluded the perverted tenant from room 406 last night.

Bang!!

However, just as he reached the fourth floor landing, a loud crash echoed through the stairwell.

Followed by a man's furious cursing: "You damned woman, look at this! What the hell is this mess? It tastes like death!"

"Do you believe I could kill you?!"

As he spoke, the door to room 404 burst open, and crimson blood flowed out from the doorway...

John, with an attitude of minding his own business, intended to walk straight past without a sideways glance and return to his room.

But then he reconsidered. Helping residents with domestic disputes could also be a way to establish foundational relationships!

So, John paused, craning his neck to see.

Inside room 404, chaos reigned, hot dishes overturned, steaming.

Bones were boiled to mush, the meat unrecognizable, impossible to tell what creature it had come from.

The household consisted of three: a man with a ferocious face, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot, one hand gripping his wife's hair as he abused her.

The wife, blood trickling from her mouth, had a calm expression, yet her smile was unsettlingly eerie.

Beside them, a child of about four or five sat on a small stool, clapping his little hands vigorously, grinning broadly.

"You process this food for me, then throw it in the pot to boil!" the man roared, as if he wished he could devour his own wife.

"You useless waste, can't you even lift that kitchen knife?"

"Just like in bed, like your limp dick, equally useless, equally a piece of trash..."

The wife kept taunting her husband, seemingly deriving immense pleasure from it.

The man, in a rage, turned to grab the cleaver from the chopping board.

But in that instant, as he turned, the wife, with strength from who knows where, plunged the scissors she had been clutching in her sleeve deep into her husband's neck.

Blood sprayed everywhere!

With a fierce shove, the husband tumbled out of the nearby window.

After pushing her husband out, the wife settled back into her seat as if nothing had happened, smoothed her disheveled hair, and began to serve the rice as though all was well.

The little boy continued to clap furiously, his laughter growing even more intense after his father was pushed out, his cheeks turning a bright red, as if he was about to run out of breath.

"Be good, don't laugh while eating, you might choke!"

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The wife stroked the boy's hair and began to feed him carefully and attentively.

Suddenly, the wife looked up, saw John at the door, and smiled politely. "You're the tenant from 405, right? Have you eaten? Would you like to join us?"

"No, thanks, I've just eaten. I heard a lot of noise over here, so I came to see if you needed any help?" John glanced at the open window, his mouth twitching slightly as he asked.

"No need, we're a very harmonious family. It's normal to have a little quarrel now and then. How about a bowl of soup before you go?"

Harmonious...

Was this the line of a wife who had just killed her husband?

"Maybe next time," John said, eyeing a finger floating in the soup, declining the offer as he quickly walked away.

He had finally met a neighbor who seemed friendly, but John couldn't bring himself to establish a good relationship with her.

This family was beyond strange.

Mad?

No, at least the mad are consistently so.

By comparison, John suddenly found the tenant from 406 to be quite normal.

"All the residents in this apartment building are no simple matter," Blood-Eye Ghost suddenly spoke up.

"Oh, I thought you were hibernating," John said with a laugh.

Blood-Eye Ghost rolled his eyes and said, "This apartment has a smell that I find offensive, didn't want to come out."

"What smell? Is there one?" John sniffed the air vigorously.

Blood-Eye Ghost didn't elaborate much, simply stating, "There's a very scary ghost hidden in this apartment, be careful of it..."

John was taken aback.

Damn!

Could it be the serial killer he was talking about?

"Where is it?"

"I can only sense that it's lurking in some corner."

John was speechless: "That's as good as saying nothing."

"Think about what I said, the residents of this building are no simple matter," Blood-Eye Ghost repeated.

"Bro, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, can you not speak in riddles? Can't you just say what you mean?"

However, Blood-Eye Ghost didn't reply again, as if he had gone back into hibernation.

When John returned to his own room, the door of the neighboring 406 resident suddenly cracked open again.

Those dead-fish-like eyes looked at John with a bit more resentment.

John chuckled awkwardly, explaining, "About last night, I'm really sorry."

"I will kill you!!"

With that, the door slammed shut with a bang.

So, he had made an enemy!

John shook his head; since he couldn't establish any fondness, there was no need to be polite. If the other party wanted to mess with him, he'd deal with them first!

After finishing his fast food, John lay back in his chair to let his stomach digest while pondering his next visit to another resident.

There were only five rooms on the floor. Now, he had yet to visit 401 and 402.

John was feeling weary. He just hoped these two households would be somewhat normal.

Why was it so hard to get along with neighbors?

Five minutes later, John left his room, planning to knock on the door of 401 first.

As he passed by 404, John suddenly heard cursing coming from the stairwell.

"Bitch! Whore! I'm going to kill you!"

He saw the husband, his face covered in blood, walking back from the stairwell with the scissors still stuck in his neck, his features twisted grotesquely.

He stormed back into room 404, and with a bang, the door shut heavily behind him.

John didn't bother to intervene; this was their family affair, best to let them sort it out themselves.

At the end of the corridor, the door to apartment 401 was surprisingly ajar!

A chilling coldness wafted out from the room, giving John goosebumps as he peered inside. "Hello, is anyone there?"

The room was stark and sparsely furnished.

A man sat in a chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling fan blades that creaked as they spun overhead.

"Hello, I..."

"You're the new tenant from 405."

Before John could finish, the man interrupted.

"That's right." John hadn't expected the man to be aware of him.

It seemed he might be dealing with a more normal tenant.

"Could you do me a favor?" the man suddenly asked.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Could you speak to the apartment owner on my behalf? I've managed to save up this month's rent. Could you ask him to return my belongings? I left something with him as collateral."

John thought the request didn't sound too difficult and asked, "What did you leave?"

"My heart."

The man turned around, and only then did John see that the man's left chest was hollow, the heart missing.

The cavity was neat, with the blood vessels clearly visible, as if a part had been neatly removed.

So, the heart that was thumping in that cardboard box belonged to this guy!

John felt a chill run down his spine. Was this the consequence of not being able to pay the rent?

"Please, help me out. I'd be forever grateful," the man pleaded.

John was about to respond when a system voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

"Ding! Host has triggered a passive mission: return the heart to the tenant of 401 within 4 hours to gain +80 fondness from him!"

"Mission failure penalty: leave an arm as a collectible for the apartment owner!"

"The mission can be refused, but once accepted, it cannot be changed!"

John thought for a moment and said, "Okay, I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee that I'll be able to redeem your heart."

"Thank you."

The man didn't say much more, turning back to continue staring at the ceiling, looking forlorn and defeated.

After accepting the mission, John left the room.

Old folks like to chat about this and that; he could start by having a good old chinwag with them to establish a rapport.

But the thought of the apartment owner's terrifying face made John's stomach turn.

As he descended the stairs, John unexpectedly ran into two people.

Cobra, and another anonymous participant known as "Bai."

It seemed they were also heading to the lobby on the first floor to find that apartment owner.