A heavy stench of blood permeated the air. The originally spacious room suddenly felt so incredibly crowded. The chilling cold light from the screen lit up his surroundings. Lan Xiaochen stood before the computer table, holding the cursed envelope, and slowly turned around. "Who's there? Come out and face me!"
The man who was normally so courageous and fearless shouted loudly in the direction of the living room. Unfortunately, all that replied to him was the static of electricity. Inside the empty living room, the television set was suddenly switched on, and the black and white static appeared on the screen like snowflakes. Lan Xiaochen picked up the badminton racket next to his computer table and slowly nudged step by step to the living room. Perhaps it was a psychological trick or something else, but he felt a sense of déjà vu regarding this whole situation.
