Back in her apartment, Sofia Santi stood behind the door, peering through the peephole as she watched Desberle and Stevenson's actions.
But the more she watched, the stranger it seemed.
From her point of view, Desberle and Stevenson had initially fiddled with the door of Anne Hathaway's apartment empty-handed, before sneaking down the hallway. Then, they crouched in the middle of the corridor, pulling out what appeared to be high-tech equipment.
After a while, Desberle held a thin, black wire-like object and first inserted it into the gap under the stairwell door. He then pulled it out and inserted it into the gap above the door…
"What the hell are they doing?"
A bit later, she saw Desberle and Stevenson recoil, their bodies jerking backward, and they both collapsed onto the ground. Then, they scrambled up, ran around the hallway, and knocked desperately on her door.
Sofia was startled by their distorted expressions through the peephole, and her curiosity grew even more. She still had the two thousand dollars information fee on her mind. After hesitating for a moment, she opened the door.
"Quick, hide, there's a ghost!" Stevenson finally screamed.
"Shut up, be quiet, and hide. Sofia, where's your phone? Call the police!" Desberle, sweating profusely, panicked—gone was his earlier composure.
Sofia was baffled, "What the hell are you two doing? Aren't you supposed to catch Anne Hathaway and Martin in bed? Why didn't you go in?"
Desberle stared at her in disbelief, "What are you talking about? We went in, but it wasn't Martin in bed with Anne Hathaway—it was a demon. A terrifying, horrible demon! Damn it, hurry up and call the police!"
At the end of his sentence, Desberle shivered, recalling the horrific face.
Sofia thought these two were out of their minds!
A sudden wave of fear hit her—these two lunatics wouldn't harm her, would they?
That thought spiraled uncontrollably, growing stronger by the second, and she couldn't shake it off.
"Damn fools, hurry up and grab your phone! Do you want us all to die here?" Desberle grabbed Sofia's arm.
Her heart pounded at the increasingly twisted look on his face.
"You… you don't have phones?"
"Idiot, we don't carry phones during work. It distracts us, and if lost, it could expose our identities. Hurry up!"
"Fine, I'll grab my phone, you stay here!"
Sofia glanced at the spot where she had placed her phone, right by the key tray near the door. Her eyes lit up.
"I'll get it now; my phone is by the door, I'll go grab it."
Saying this, Sofia jogged to the door, grabbed her phone, and quickly dashed out.
"Damn it, what are you doing?!" Desberle shouted.
"Ah, the demon, the demon is coming!" Stevenson cowered behind the sofa, trembling.
Sofia ignored the voices behind her, charging out of the apartment and into the hallway.
Should she call the police?
She hesitated for a moment but decided to run first, just seven floors.
A moment of relief washed over her when she noticed the two lunatics hadn't followed.
She cursed under her breath. She had actually been thinking about sleeping with one of them!
But soon, she realized something was wrong.
The building... it felt like she couldn't escape, no matter how far she ran!
In Desberle's apartment, he watched in confusion as Sofia burst out of her room and into Anne Hathaway's apartment, where the demon was.
This woman had to be crazy!!!
He rushed to the door to close it, but just as it was about to shut, a dark hand shot through the crack. Five long fingers with sharp claws pushed against the door.
Desberle was sent flying.
"Ah! Don't kill me, don't kill me!" he screamed in terror.
Meanwhile, in the early hours of the morning, John and Coulson, still in the car downstairs, were both yawning.
John wondered, "Why aren't the boss and Stevenson down yet? Are they too into it and reluctant to leave?"
"Shut up, I think something's wrong," Coulson replied, his face serious. "The boss isn't one to be careless."
"Maybe they're still in Sofia's room," John shrugged.
Just then, police cars screeched to a halt outside the building.
John and Coulson both recoiled.
Coulson muttered, "Looks like something really went wrong."
"What do we do now?" John, still new to the team, was unsure.
Coulson looked at him in surprise, then said as if it were obvious, "We leave, of course. Not everyone should get stuck in this. Let's go back and contact the PR team, get ready to help our people out."
Inside Anne Hathaway's apartment, the girl was holding the bread and eggs Martin had cooked for her, peering through the peephole.
"Oh my God, it looks like something's happened at Sofia's apartment—so many police are going in."
"Hmm, there are two men in her room? Did she have a threesome last night? That bitch!"
"Oh my God, these men don't seem quite right, they look scared, sweating so much, one even pissed himself."
"Sofia?"
As Anne Hathaway chattered away, it sounded like she was reveling in someone else's misfortune.
Just as she said "Sofia," Sofia appeared.
She was being helped out of the building by two police officers, looking like she had run a marathon all night—exhausted and disheveled.
In fact, she had run all night, terrified the whole time.
As the police led her out, she kept mumbling, "The stairs, endless loop; the stairs, endless loop…"
She seemed almost hysterical.
"Ugh, why are the police walking this way?" Anne Hathaway panicked, realizing Martin was still in the room.
"Don't panic. The apartment across from ours must have had an incident. The police are just asking neighbors. Just say you don't know anything."
"I can't be found, go hide in your bedroom and calm down."
As Martin said this, he grabbed a plate from the table and walked into the bedroom. However, he wasn't completely reassured by Anne Hathaway's composure and subtly cast a spell to calm her down.