Chapter Sixty: Purgatory

Dong Wei was instantly on high alert. Before the operation began, the head of the major corporate client had gathered the leaders of several security companies for a brief meeting. The meeting outlined the main tasks for this security detail but also included particular points of caution for the security leaders.

The main message was clear: while on duty, they should be prepared for anything beyond the bounds of common sense. The corporate head gave no specifics as to what these extraordinary circumstances might be.

So, when Dong Wei saw the building begin to glow, his first thought was of the cryptic warning he’d received. He immediately barked orders to silence his team’s unrest and commanded everyone to be fully alert. That old sense of looming danger crept back into his heart.

Dong Wei’s sixth sense had always been remarkably accurate, saving him and his team from countless threats during past missions. Whenever danger approached, his intuition would always reveal a special way to avoid or escape it.

But today felt different. This time, though he sensed danger, no solution presented itself; his mind was blank, as if some unseen power was interfering with his instincts. The unease gnawed at him.

He issued orders for vigilance and drew his weapon, checking his gun to ensure he was ready to defend or counterattack at a moment’s notice.

Chaos still simmered among the crowd, but the corporate supervisor overseeing the mission remained cold and indifferent, refusing to let anyone intervene. In truth, they had their own plans—using the hired security teams as expendable bait to test whatever might emerge from the building. The lives of these outside contractors meant nothing to them.

Danger was brewing unnoticed, and the strange light from the building grew ever brighter, pulsing in a steady, almost rhythmic frequency. The increasing brilliance seemed to drum against everyone’s hearts, and nearly all felt that something would happen when the green light reached its peak.

After roughly half an hour, the green glow stopped flickering and held steady, then abruptly vanished. In the next moment, a deep, thunderous sound reverberated, followed by a noise like countless synchronized footsteps advancing in unison.

All conversation ceased. Each person held their breath, tense with anticipation. Even those lacking Dong Wei’s sixth sense could sense the imminent threat. The only sounds around the building were the mechanical clicks of weapons being readied.

Ten minutes passed, the marching steps faded, and the forest fell into utter silence. At that very moment, true danger struck.

Though they had waited for ages and noticed nothing amiss, suddenly a security guard realized the teammate beside him had vanished. At first, he assumed his partner had stepped away for a bathroom break or something similar, until he spotted a pool of fresh blood on the ground. Realizing something was terribly wrong, he immediately reported to his squad leader.

This was not an isolated incident—several security companies faced the same mysterious disappearances, including Dong Wei’s own team. Only then did everyone grasp that something had appeared among them, killing their comrades.

“Everyone, stay sharp! The enemy is here. All outermost personnel face outwards and raise to highest alert! If you spot anything suspicious, shoot on sight!” Dong Wei shouted, disregarding what others might think.

No one objected to Dong Wei’s command. In their hearts, they all shared his dread.

Even so, their precautions were in vain. The danger struck again and again, completely undetected. Many witnessed horrifying scenes they could scarcely believe: a teammate standing beside them would suddenly be slashed by a massive, deep wound, blood spurting, dead before a sound escaped their lips.

Some thought they must be dreaming, unable to accept the horror before their eyes. The more timid collapsed in terror, while others fired wildly into the air, hoping to flush out the invisible threat.

It was all futile. One after another, the security guards died horribly in full view. Even Dong Wei began to panic. Such a situation was beyond anything he—or even his seasoned military commanders—had ever faced.

He was certain these were not human assassins in invisibility suits. No human could kill so soundlessly, and those suits always left some visible outline. True invisibility, as in the stories, relied on countless optical cameras reflecting the surroundings, but there was always a trace. The enemy here was truly unseen and slaughtered with impunity.

And what kind of weapon could inflict such long, deep gashes on the bodies left behind?

The security teams fell one after another. Some, driven mad by fear, mistook members of other companies for the enemy and opened fire on each other. In an instant, the forest became a slaughterhouse as everyone began to shoot at everyone else.

Dong Wei’s first instinct was to run. What they faced today was far beyond his abilities. Weapon in hand, he bolted for the far edge of the forest. He had not run far when he stumbled and fell, feeling as though he had crashed into something solid.

Yet, when he looked up, there was nothing there...

—

“Wow!” Gu Mengyan exclaimed as soon as she opened the door with her room card and caught sight of the interior. “Yirou, come quickly! This room is gorgeous! Look at the huge floor-to-ceiling windows! You can see such a vast forest outside! Yirou, hurry and look!”

Excited as a child on her first family trip, Gu Mengyan kicked off her shoes and jumped onto the bed, bouncing up and down as if it were a trampoline.

After a while, she hopped down, still delighted, and ran over to a door. “Huh? What’s this door for? It’s not the bathroom…”

Opening it, she discovered a staircase leading upward.

Curious, Gu Mengyan pulled Fan Yirou along to climb the stairs. When they reached the top and saw what awaited them, both girls gasped in unison, “Wow~~~”

They had reached the hotel’s top floor—a spacious open terrace from which they could gaze out over all the scenery below.

Most exciting of all, dominating the rooftop was an enormous open-air swimming pool.

“This is the legendary rooftop pool! I’ve never seen one with my own eyes before!” Gu Mengyan marveled.

Fan Yirou nodded in agreement. “Me neither! I’ve always wanted one on the roof of my own house—just imagine swimming and sunbathing up here, how wonderful that would be!”

Gu Mengyan glanced at Chen Hao, who had just arrived behind them. “At least you did one thing that pleases me! Booking this hotel room was just perfect!”

Just as Chen Hao was about to respond, a sudden, blinding pain stabbed through his mind. In the next instant, scenes from the Kostar Forest flashed through his head like a slideshow—not continuous, but with all the crucial moments clear: the security personnel, their weapons and equipment, the strange green-lit building, and the slaughter of the guards.

Clutching his head in agony, Chen Hao crouched to the floor, groaning in pain.

Startled, Gu Mengyan and Fan Yirou rushed to his side. “Chen Hao, are you alright? Are you feeling unwell? Is it a headache?”

“Is it jetlag? Or maybe you’re not used to the water, or you’ve caught a cold?”

The pain didn’t last long, but the sudden surge of terrifying images left Chen Hao deeply unsettled. He slowly stood up, waved the girls off, and said, “I’m fine, just got a sudden headache. Maybe I caught a chill. Don’t worry, I’ll just go lie down for a bit. You two look around and come down when you’re ready. Tonight, you can swim here—an open-air pool at night has a unique charm.”

With that, he forced himself downstairs to his room, not waiting for a reply from the two women.