Huang Quan walked into the Hell Apartment, where Wang Biao immediately approached him, bowing deeply.

“Master Apostle, I’m truly grateful for your help! If you ever need anything from me, just say the word. This is my rent; please accept it.”

As he spoke, Huang Quan felt a surge of energy flowing through his body, growing stronger until it felt like it would burst out of him. He casually waved his hand, and a stream of energy shot out from his fingertips, leaving a small dent in the wall of the apartment.

A voice echoed in his mind: "Master Apostle, this rent includes mixed combat skills and [Ghost Eye Technique]."

Mixed combat skills, as the name suggests, would grant him immense strength during a chaotic fight. The [Ghost Eye Technique] presumably would allow him to see the person someone longs to see before they die, without needing to bring them into the apartment—perfect for handling certain tasks without drawing unnecessary attention to the Hell Apartment.

Huang Quan shook his head. "What kind of rent is this?" he thought. These abilities seemed of little use to him—unless he found himself facing some villainous gang, which wasn’t exactly his line of work. But he chuckled to himself, thinking, “Well, it’s better to have it than not. Who knows when it might come in handy?”

Exiting the apartment, Huang Quan left the hospital and rode his motorcycle back to the hotel. The hotel’s parking lot was a short walk from the main entrance, and as he strolled leisurely, he reflected on the recent events, savoring the brief moment of peace.

As he walked, feeling unusually relaxed, he remained unaware of the faint, demonic tattoos that had appeared on his back. The tattoos, resembling interwoven muscle patterns, glowed softly, yet no one around him seemed to notice, not even Huang Quan himself.

Humming a tune, Huang Quan neared the hotel when something in a nearby flowerbed caught his eye. The grass rustled as if something—or someone—was hidden within. Curious, Huang Quan peered through the gaps in the foliage and noticed a figure, either sitting or kneeling, in an odd position.

Given the recent strange occurrences he had witnessed, Huang Quan knew he had to investigate. He cautiously approached the flowerbed, gently parting the leaves to reveal a graceful silhouette—a woman, her back turned to him, draped in a thin, translucent veil that barely covered her body, glowing faintly under the streetlights.

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Startled, Huang Quan quickly let the leaves fall back into place, averting his eyes. "Don’t stare! Don’t stare!" he muttered to himself, though his curiosity was piqued. What was a young woman, barely clothed, doing in a flowerbed in the middle of the night? And why did it seem like no one else had noticed her?

Steeling himself, Huang Quan parted the foliage again. This time, the woman turned towards him. Fortunately, she was decently covered, but as Huang Quan’s gaze traveled up to her face, he couldn’t help but gasp. The woman was stunning—breathtakingly beautiful in a way that defied description.

Her hair, dark and silky, was loosely pinned up, with a few stray strands framing her flawless face. Her skin, pale with a faint blush, seemed to glow from within, untouched by any cosmetic enhancements. Every feature was perfect: her slender eyebrows, her expressive eyes, her delicate nose, and lips the color of dawn. Huang Quan had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

The woman said nothing, merely gazing at Huang Quan with a faint, enigmatic smile. Any other man might have been tempted to take advantage of the situation, but Huang Quan found himself deep in thought. A woman this beautiful, sitting alone in a flowerbed late at night—was she drunk? Or worse, was she a ghost? If she was, perhaps he could take her in, and maybe she would offer something valuable as rent.

But then, a voice broke the silence. "Sir, I’ve twisted my ankle. Could you help me out of here?"

The woman’s soft voice jolted Huang Quan from his thoughts. He hesitated, then quickly decided to leave. “The most beautiful ghosts are often the most troublesome,” he reminded himself. He couldn’t afford to get involved with another spirit that might cling to him and cause endless trouble.

One foot already inside the hotel’s entrance, Huang Quan stopped. If she really was a ghost with a lingering attachment, this could be another opportunity. But if she wasn’t a ghost, just an injured or drunk woman, leaving her could expose her to danger from someone with less honorable intentions.

"Saving a life is a great merit," Huang Quan reminded himself, turning back to the flowerbed. When he reached the woman again, he didn’t hesitate this time. He gently helped her up and out of the bushes.

As they walked back to the hotel, Huang Quan couldn’t help but notice the stares from passersby. He sighed inwardly, knowing the situation looked strange. Meanwhile, unnoticed in the shadows, the tattoos on his back pulsed faintly, absorbing a subtle energy from the woman with each step. With each pulse, the tattoos grew slightly longer, though neither Huang Quan nor the woman seemed aware of it.

Just as they entered the hotel, a luxury stretch limo sped by, heading toward Dragon City’s largest nightclub, "Heaven on Earth." Inside, a man was wrapped in the arms of a scantily clad woman, who whispered provocatively in his ear, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. In the back of the limo, another woman sat quietly, dabbing at her tears.