...Through the thick fog, a dilapidated bus crawled slowly along an endless highway.
Inside the bus sat seven people—three women and four men.They stared out the fogged windows with varying expressions: confusion, bewilderment, fear… Yet beneath it all, their faces shared the same pallid hue.It was as though they had endured something horrifying during their journey.
The bus pressed onward until it finally halted outside an ancient, decaying villa shrouded in darkness and mystery, enveloped by the same suffocating mist.The doors creaked open, as if urging the passengers to disembark.
The seven stepped out slowly, casting uneasy glances back at the vehicle. Their eyes betrayed a nameless dread—the driver's seat, where someone should have been, was utterly empty.This bus… had no driver.
As the last passenger exited, the doors slammed shut automatically, and the bus rolled away, vanishing into the depths of the fog…
Standing before the black villa, the group exchanged uneasy looks, their faces ashen."Let's go…""I don't think we have any other choice."
The words came from a gaunt man in the group, his calm demeanor standing in stark contrast to the others. He wore dark brown rectangular wooden glasses, his refined features sharp under the dim light.
"D-do we… really have to go in?" A beautiful woman with gold earrings trembled, her voice shaking. She wore revealing clothes, her arms wrapped tightly around herself for warmth. "What if… it's dangerous inside?"
The others remained silent.Initially, they had dismissed this as a prank or a reality show setup… until they discovered the driverless bus. Even as staunch materialists, the inexplicable events of the past hour had shattered their rationality.
"Would you rather walk into the fog?" Ning Qiushui inhaled deeply, forcing composure. His heart raced.From receiving that mysterious letter to arriving here, less than an hour had passed—yet it had upended his entire worldview.
"Have you forgotten the fat man who jumped out at the crossroads?"At the mention of him, the woman's eyes widened with terror. Her legs buckled, nearly collapsing.
Originally, there had been eight passengers. All had awoken on the bus with no memory of boarding. The fat man had ranted about a shady TV producer orchestrating a twisted reality show, claiming their phones had been swapped and the driver was hidden beneath them.
When the bus paused at a foggy intersection, he pried open a window and vanished into the mist…Things took a turn at the next crossroads. Hanging from the traffic lights was a fluttering object—the fat man's bloody skin, peeled whole. His grotesque, petrified expression was frozen in the hideous membrane, while fresh blood dripped down the pole.
The sight paralyzed the group. One skeptic opened a window, flooding the bus with the nauseating stench of blood…
The woman with gold earrings, Wang Yuning, staggered backward, her face ashen. The others exchanged uneasy glances, their breaths shallow.The gaunt man, Ning Qiushui, stepped forward. His calmness seemed almost unnatural. "Let's not waste time. We need to go inside."
The group followed him through the villa's wrought-iron gate, their footsteps crunching on gravel. The garden was eerily silent, save for the distant drip of moisture. The woman with the earrings felt a hand brush her waist but said nothing. Better to endure this than end up like the fat man…
At the villa's entrance, Ning Qiushui knocked.Knock. Knock. Knock.
Footsteps echoed from within. The group tensed, half-expecting some grotesque apparition. Instead, the door opened to reveal a stunning, androgynous figure—a boy no older than sixteen, with delicate features and cold, distant eyes.
"You're here," the boy said tonelessly. "Come in."
The group hesitated, but the boy added, "The fog… it's not safe to linger." At the mention of the fog, they scrambled inside, memories of the flayed skin flashing through their minds.
The villa's grand hall was dimly lit by a crackling firepit. Four strangers sat around it, motionless, their hollow gazes fixed on the flames. The air thickened with dread.
No one answered.
A petite woman, Yan Youping, whispered, "What… happens if we fail?"
The man met her gaze. "You die. Horribly."
Ning Qiushui glanced upward. "Any last advice?"
"Veterinarian."
"…Seriously?"
"Dead serious."
On the third floor, the stench of blood and rot overwhelmed them. A single blood-soaked wooden door dominated the room, its surface scrawled with crimson text:
[Care for the bedridden old man for five days.]
"That's… it?" Wang Yuning murmured. "Just… take care of an old man?"
Before anyone could react, the door creaked open. Pale hands emerged, and darkness swallowed them whole.