On the wall behind the cabinet door, four people bound by chains were painted in dark red paint.

The fifth person was holding a sickle that turned out to be a rusty kitchen knife.

The shadowy figure shrieked, and the blade in the painting suddenly reflected light, carving a half-finger-deep crack in the wall, making the smell of rust even stronger.

I turned around and saw Li Xiulan's mother-in-law leaning against the door frame.

She was clutching a serrated kitchen knife in her hand, the handle wrapped around her blue cloth sleeve, and bits of meat still clinging to the blade.

"Xiulan... run..."

The old woman's throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and she suddenly convulsed violently.

The kitchen knife clattered to the ground.

The shadowy tentacles pierced her abdomen, and grayish-white mist emerged from the wound, gathering in the air into a translucent lotus shape.

Li Xiulan cried out and rushed over, but was knocked over onto the bedside table by the slime, and the glass lamp shattered at her feet.

The lightning sword was burning hot in my hand, but I couldn't care less about her at that moment. I slashed at the rag doll that was crawling towards Tiger Cub.

With a muffled thud as rotting flesh tore apart, the baby's arm fell to the ground, still wriggling.

A projection suddenly appeared on the wall—

Li Xiulan's husband was tied up inside the cabinet, with bloody sawdust piled at his feet.

Li Xiulan propped herself up on the bedside table, her fingertips digging deeply into her palms, her expression somewhat dazed.

"I understand... I understand, so he... he didn't come back that day, but something wearing his skin came back..."

Before he could finish speaking, the dark figure split into four plumes of black mist with a "pop," which then disappeared into the wardrobe, chest of drawers, TV cabinet, and shoe cabinet in the four corners of the room.

The sounds of banging on doors and a child crying came from downstairs, and the "ding-dong" of the elevator buttons was particularly jarring.

"Guard the tiger cub!"

I bit my tongue and drew a talisman on the cabinet.

As soon as Fu finished drawing, a figure appeared at the end of the corridor.

Li Xiulan's husband was holding a blue checkered swaddle.

From inside the swaddling clothes, one could hear the tearing sound of fingernails scratching the cloth.

He mechanically repeated, "Time to sleep... Time to sleep..."

With each word spoken, the swaddling clothes would bulge out like a baby's, then slowly deflate...