Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital. Recreation hour.

Two nurses assigned to watch the patients were huddled together, whispering.

“Did you hear? Over by Dongdaqiao, some drunk guy died. They found him this morning, and half his body was gone.”

“That’s nothing. The South District is way creepier. They’re saying a little girl’s been going door to door, knocking. Soon as someone opens up, she asks if they’re her mom.”

“Huh? How come I never heard about that?”

“They locked the news down. The Exorcist Police have been going house to house telling people not to open the door at night no matter who knocks.”

“What if it’s your family outside?”

“Then that’s your choice, I guess. You wanna risk one person dying, or the whole family?”

...

Malcolm Stanton had one hand cupped behind his ear, listening in on every word. A striped bedsheet was draped over him like an invisibility cloak.

One foot had no sock on.

The other foot had two socks.

He stood on top of a bench.

Careful as a thief, Malcolm swept his gaze around the yard, checking everybody nearby. Once he made sure it was safe, he lowered his badly uneven haircut into the bedsheet.

Under the sheet, Malcolm held a slipper in his right hand and jabbed at it with his left.

“Agent Zero-Zero-One dispatched to Earth requesting connection to headquarters. HQ, do you copy? Over, woo-woo.”

“Big Ball has already been occupied by ghosts. This is our chance to launch a sneak attack from behind. HQ, do you copy? Over, woo-woo.”

He waited a long time.

No reply.

Malcolm tugged open one corner of the sheet and peeked out.

No one was paying attention to him.

Satisfied, he carefully stuffed the “communication device” back into his crotch.

Then Malcolm forgot which side of the bench was the way down and took one firm, confident step toward the backrest.

And then—

He pitched forward headfirst like an uprooted onion and smashed straight down onto a rock.

Somewhere, one of the patients suddenly shouted, “Funeral feast! Funeral feast!”

The others instantly copied him, throwing both hands over their heads and circling Malcolm in wild cheers.

...

When Malcolm woke up again, he was back in the ward. Outside the window, the sky was already completely dark.

[System activated. Scanning host’s physical condition: severe mental illness. Accept treatment?]

Malcolm rubbed his eyes and shook his head. The system panel floated right in front of him without moving an inch. Rock-solid stability, no joke.

“Outrageous. Those white-coat little weasels actually drugged me while I was asleep. Shameless. Total cheap shot. No martial ethics at all.”

[Does host accept treatment?]

“You’re the crazy one. Your whole family’s crazy. Treat your ancestors for eighteen generations, why don’t you? Scram. You’re blocking my absorption of the essence of the sun and moon.”

[Host treatment failed!]

Malcolm sat cross-legged on the bed and began practicing his breathing technique when the sound of dripping water came from outside the room.

He couldn’t focus on cultivation anymore. He tilted his head and listened hard to the movement in the hallway.

It sounded a bit like someone mopping the floor.

The footsteps were very light.

Who the heck was mopping in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?

Wait, no. Tomorrow was supposed to be his cleaning duty.

Did somebody get the date wrong and clean up for him?

Heh heh heh.

What an absolute idiot.

Let me see which dumb sucker is mopping my floor for me.

At night, the ward doors in the hospital were always locked before bedtime. Malcolm could only press himself against the little observation window on the door and look outside.

The hallway beyond was pitch-black. Only by the pale moonlight could he make out a figure moving slowly forward.

Very slowly.

Every time the shadow passed a ward, it stopped to look inside.

This moron was cleaning pretty seriously.

Malcolm stretched his neck, craning for a better look.

At last, the idiot reached his door.

Separated by only a pane of glass, there was a pale, swollen face outside. Wrinkled and puckered, like it had been soaked in water for a very long time. Messy hair hung down in wet clumps, still dripping.

Barely looked like a woman.

Never seen her before.

With a face that busted, he’d definitely remember it.

New arrival, maybe?

[System scan]

[Female Ba, early-stage second-rank resentful ghost. Drowned to death. Soul bound to corpse, transformed into a Ba. Female Ba must maintain eye contact with prey for over three seconds before hunting. Based on host ability index reference, danger level: extremely high. Strongly advise host to close eyes.]

The Female Ba’s eyes rotated stiffly and locked onto Malcolm’s.

[Danger! Host, close your eyes immediately.]

But a madman’s brain never works on normal settings.

“You staring at me? You looking down on me? Huh? You disrespecting me?”

Malcolm pointed straight at the Female Ba outside the window and started cursing.

“Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re a woman. The second I get out there, I’ll beat you every time I see you. Still staring? You’re still freaking staring? Damn, my temper—what, you think I can’t handle one ugly freak like you?”

The Female Ba suddenly curled her mouth into a strange, sinister grin and shifted her gaze away.

A metallic clatter sounded outside the door.

The loose wooden door creaked and slowly swung inward.

The Female Ba wore a long white dress. Black water dripped from her body, leaving a trail all over the floor.

The second Malcolm saw that, he lifted one foot, yanked off his slipper, and smacked her right across the face with it.

“I’m on cleaning duty tomorrow, and you dump black water all over the place? You messing with me on purpose? You asking for it!”

The Female Ba didn’t move at all from the hit.

[High-level warning. Host, prepare to dodge.]

Malcolm raised his right hand and pointed one finger at her eyes.

“I don’t care if you’re new here. Once you’re in this place, you follow the rules. I’m teaching you a lesson right now. Still glaring at me? Not convinced?”

The Female Ba opened her mouth wide.

The corners of her lips tore apart. Shreds of flesh still clung there in wet strands. A sharp, piercing scream ripped out of her throat.

She was angry.

She wanted to bite Malcolm’s head clean off.

She wanted to pop his eyeballs like grapes.

With her bloody maw stretched open, the Female Ba lunged straight at his head.

[In accordance with the principle of strengthening the host, the system is preparing a one-minute energy burst for host. Host, please... forget it.]

Malcolm only felt a sudden heat in his hand.

Then he swung the slipper he was holding and slapped it brutally across the Female Ba’s face.

The instant the slipper touched her skin, it let out a sizzling sound like meat on a grill. The force of the blow was so ridiculous it sent her flying straight out of the ward.

Slipper in hand, Malcolm stepped out after her. He turned his head and looked down the hallway.

Black water everywhere.

“You ugly thing, who told you to come here?”

He raised the slipper and laid into her hard.

The Female Ba trembled all over from the beating. She shrank into the corner of the wall, too scared to move.

Then Malcolm noticed black water still dripping from the hem of her dress. He pointed at it viciously.

The Female Ba immediately gathered up her skirt and didn’t dare let even one more drop fall.

Under Malcolm’s “guidance,” the Female Ba obediently started cleaning the hallway she had dirtied. She even went so far as to break the locks on the other ward doors so she could clean those rooms too.

The noise woke up some of the other patients.

“Malcolm, does she actually listen to you? Can you tell her to wash my socks?”

“Malcolm, have her wash my underwear too!”

“When’s she coming again? I’m gonna save up my dirty laundry for her.”

...