"No, no, no!" The three of them cried out in unison upon hearing this sentence.
"Follow me," Beichuan Si said, clearly unwilling to waste any more words.
This place exuded an odd and ancient air from every corner, an inexplicable sense of dissonance and inversion.
Take, for example, the characters on the doorplates.
They were reversed like reflections in a mirror, with the writing flipped from left to right.
It was as if this apartment truly existed in a world within a mirror.
Even intending to leave, one could only depart from the room where Beichuan Si had entered.
It appeared to be a nexus within the spiritual realm, connecting to the outside world.
But no matter what...
Beichuan Si came to a halt, fixating his gaze on the man at the stairwell entrance, gripping a blood-stained kitchen knife, with bizarre, enchanting mirror shards embedded in his head.
His face was contorted, and dark liquid dripped steadily from him.
