Outside the Ping'an Grand Hotel.
More than a dozen people of all sorts gathered together, their expressions indifferent, their temperaments bizarre. They either stood or squatted there, silent, creating an especially quiet atmosphere.
The few drivers whose cars passed by occasionally looked over curiously, wondering why there was a group of people here around four in the morning. Could it be that the Ping'an Grand Hotel had caught fire, and these were the people who had run out?
The driver slowed down and looked up briefly but didn't spot any signs of trouble.
"How strange," he muttered to himself, returning his gaze to the road and driving on without further attention.
However, just after the driver had passed, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw a pale-faced man whose head had eerily turned one hundred and eighty degrees. A pair of numb, lifeless eyes seemed to stare straight back at him.
