"Bang—" At the same time, a powerful arm broke through the door.

This wasn't a human arm. It was big and strong, with bronze-colored muscles bursting like steel, and the back of the hand was covered with weird scales. The nails on its four fingers were several centimeters long, strong, and sharp as swords.

Gao Yang leaped at Fatty Jun, and the claw that broke through the door slashed his left arm.

The claw touched the new blood and shook slightly with delight. Then it started feverishly cutting through the door. The beast outside ripped the frail door into pieces in the blink of an eye.

The beast moved inside the room, its boots crunching on the shattered wood, producing a quiet but horrifying sound.

The main light in the room was already off, casting a dim, eerie, and oppressive atmosphere.

"Three, there are actually three... ah, ahh..." Aunt He's voice was full of pleasure mixed with unfathomable hatred and enormous gratitude: "They're all mine... all mine..."

Gao Yang lay behind the waterbed, enduring the intense pain in his arm, covering the trembling Fatty Jun's mouth beside him, not daring to make a sound.

Soon, Gao Yang's fingers felt wet; it was Fatty Jun's tears of fear.

In the poor light, Gao Yang used the ceiling mirror to plainly view the opponent.

It was certainly "Aunt He," a middle-aged woman in her fifties dressed in a cleaning outfit. She seemed emaciated and ancient, with a human torso and head, but her limbs underwent animal changes, tearing through her pants and sleeves and seeming disproportionately huge.

Step by step, she walked into the hallway, her body trembling with excitement.

Soon, a wet, slick, dark green tail emerged from her back.

The growth of the tail was arduous, inch by inch it protruded, accompanied by thick and murky body fluids, like amniotic fluid during childbirth.

It pressed against Aunt He's pelvis and spine, forcing her body to bend forward.

Finally, a tail as thick as a thigh and two meters long fully extended, dragging on the ground with a cold, slithering sound like a snake.

Now, she looked like a lizard person.

Gao Yang, witnessing the entire process, felt a deep fear, dizziness, and ringing in his ears. In fact, besides enduring the pain, holding his breath, waiting for death to come slowly, he had no other options.

He knew very well that he could never be a match for this monster.

In a daze, he remembered swatting a cockroach with a slipper.

Back then, the cockroach quickly hid under the bed after being discovered, but Gao Yang still easily drove it out, then with disgust and arrogance, he "smacked" it dead.

Gao Yang felt that he was now that small and desperate cockroach.

His only hope lay in Qing Ling, hidden somewhere in the room.

The standoff in the room lasted for a long, agonizing ten seconds.

Maybe it was only seven seconds; Gao Yang didn't count.

"Swish, swish, swish—" Three sharp daggers flew from the darkness, aiming straight at Aunt He's eyes.

Aunt He quickly raised her arm to block.

"Ding, ding, ding!" With three crisp sounds, the daggers fell to the ground, unable to even scratch Aunt He's tough arm.

Of course, this was just a feint.

The moment Aunt He raised her arm to block, Qing Ling burst out of the wardrobe, holding a sword in both hands, stabbing at Aunt He's heart from the side.

Although Aunt He's reaction was a bit slow, she swiftly grabbed the sharp Tang sword with both hands, her eight hard claws striking sparks on the blade.

"Ah!" Qing Ling grunted, the force from her legs, waist, and wrists exploding together, pushing the Tang sword with all her might.

"Bang!" Aunt He was slammed against the wall, but she stubbornly held onto the Tang sword, protecting her heart.

Qing Ling continued to press, the blade inching into Aunt He's chest.

"Raaah!" Aunt He let out a growl, somewhere between human and beast, as her tail swung around, whipping Qing Ling in the waist, causing her to stagger, all her strength dissipating.

Seizing the initiative, Aunt He grabbed the Tang sword and flung it, sending Qing Ling flying along with the weapon into the standalone bathroom. The tempered glass shattered into countless pieces with a crash.

The wound on Aunt He's chest was not shallow. She panted painfully and angrily, stepping towards Qing Ling.

"Whoosh—" A blanket flew over, covering Aunt He.

In the brief ten seconds that Qing Ling fought with Aunt He, Gao Yang and Fatty Jun hadn't been idle.

Fatty Jun threw the blanket over Aunt He, but it didn't hold her for even two seconds. His idea was simple: block Aunt He's vision briefly, then escape.

In fact, Fatty Jun did exactly that. The moment the blanket covered Aunt He, he bolted for the door. Unfortunately, due to his nervousness, the floor was littered with shards of glass and sticky secretions from the beast, causing him to slip and fall flat on his face right in front of Aunt He.

"Don't, don't kill me... Mom... help me..." Fatty Jun flailed on the ground like a fat mud eel, unable to get up due to the sticky liquid.

Aunt He tore off the blanket with her claws, her gaze locking onto the fallen Fatty Jun. Three humans were harder to deal with than she had expected. She no longer hoped to enjoy her meal leisurely—killing one was as good as it got.

"Swish, swish, swish—" Three knives flew out again, aiming for Aunt He's eyes.

Her eyeballs were pierced and burst, blood flowing profusely.

"Ah..." She swung her claws wildly, "My eyes! My eyes..."

At this moment, Gao Yang was trembling violently, but his hands didn't stop moving.

—You're useless.

—Nothing you do will make a difference, so don't be nervous.

—Just do it; you're already here, it's the participation that counts.

Through a bizarre form of self-consolation, Gao Yang surprisingly alleviated much of his fear and tension. At the same time that Fatty Jun threw the blanket, he had already reached the hallway, picked up the fallen Tang sword, cut the hairdryer cord, and plugged it into the wall socket.

No, the distance was still not enough!

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the Tang sword and thrust it at Aunt He.

The blade stabbed into Aunt He's thigh, but it wasn't deep due to the lack of force. Aunt He swiped at him with her claws, but Gao Yang, prepared, leaned back, feeling a sharp sting on his nose—his nose had been scratched.

Aunt He, having lost her sight, didn't pursue blindly. She grabbed the Tang sword in her thigh, trying to pull it out. Though it wasn't deeply embedded, a hidden force pressed it down, preventing Aunt He from pulling it out.

Qing Ling, lying on the ground, had her hands open, biting her lip with blood seeping from her mouth, "Hurry!"

Gao Yang grabbed the cut end of the hairdryer cord and placed it on the blade.

There were no dramatic sparks as in the movies, and it didn't even look like an electrocution. There was just a dull, short "zap" sound, and Aunt He went limp and knelt down.

She didn't faint and still tried to get up.

Gao Yang quickly shocked her again.

Aunt He convulsed violently and collapsed to the ground.

She still tried to get up, her tail thrashing on the floor. An ordinary human would have either died on the spot or fainted from electrocution.

At some point, Qing Ling had stood up. She stepped forward, pulled out the Tang sword from Aunt He's thigh, and thrust it into her right chest. Aunt He howled in pain, her hands flailing wildly.

"Help!" Qing Ling shouted.

Gao Yang quickly discarded the wire, grabbed Qing Ling's hands from behind, and pushed hard.

Finally, the Tang sword pierced through Aunt He's chest.

Aunt He convulsed, unable to scream, and slumped sideways, pinned to the pink wall in an eerie display.

Covered in wounds and exhausted, Qing Ling exhaled deeply, leaning back against Gao Yang's chest, her heartbeat thudding.

After a few seconds of silence, Qing Ling turned and collapsed onto the waterbed, nearly fainting. She was covered in injuries, her white bathrobe speckled with blood.

Gao Yang's mind was blank as he clutched his aching, injured shoulder, standing in the wrecked, filthy, and bloody room, filled with an indescribable stench.

To describe it, it felt like the smell of rotting eggs mixed with burning plastic, with a hint of wind oil essence and mustard.

Gao Yang's stomach churned, and he knelt in front of Aunt He's corpse, vomiting profusely.

Fatty Jun, having narrowly escaped death, didn't stay idle. He quickly found something to block the door and said fearfully, "Luckily, no one else is on this floor."

"Didn't you say there was only one room left on this floor?" Gao Yang wiped his mouth.

"Hehe, I lied to you. Business has been bad lately." Fatty Jun scurried over, starting to treat Gao Yang's arm.

"Bro..."

"I'm younger than you."

"From now on, you're my big brother." Fatty Jun glanced at Qing Ling on the waterbed, "And she's my sister-in-law!"

"..." Qing Ling didn't speak, but the fatigue radiating from her body hinted at "killing intent."

"Bro, I've got a question. How did you realize something was wrong with Aunt He?" Fatty Jun asked.

"The sound." Gao Yang's voice was weary, "If she were here to clean, she'd have a cart. When I told her to leave, I didn't hear the sound of the cart's wheels."

"Awesome!" Fatty Jun slapped his thigh, "Your brain works fast! How come I didn't think of that!"

"Nonsense! My buddy is smart!"

Gao Yang was startled and turned around.

The speaker was none other than Wang Zikai.