That was a whole drawer money! The bright red bills stacked together, I'm afraid there are hundreds of thousands, especially glaring under the cold light of the phone screen.

My eyes widened, and it took me a while to come back to my senses.

Nowadays, people emphasize using mobile payments, yet there are still people keeping so much cash at home. Could it be that this money is not clean?

For someone as poor as me, this much money is as tempting as a naked beauty standing in front of me. How could I not be moved? But I understand the principle of not taking things that don't belong to me, so I reluctantly closed the heavy drawer.

Being able to keep so much money at home further indicates that someone lives in this house. How should I verify whether it belongs to Red Sister? I turned around and leaned against the desk, contemplating.

The light from the phone happened to shine on the bookshelf. Unconsciously, my gaze swept over the unreadable professional books, and something caught my attention.

I quickly walked over and pulled it out.

It was a notebook with a brown leather cover, stained with a little blood.

Most of the pages inside were torn out, leaving only one.

May 5th.

The most dreaded thing finally happened. What should I do? It seemed like a diary, with only a short sentence.

The page was smeared with quite a bit of dark red blood, scattered and shocking, soaking through the paper as if a blood-stained hand was holding a pen to write these words.

From the handwriting, it was clearly from a woman's hand.

However, the writing was messy and twisted, as if the hand holding the pen was trembling, conveying the fear of the person writing.

In my mind, Red Sister's pale and beautiful face suddenly appeared.

"What's the most terrifying thing you've ever experienced?"

This was the first thing she said to me, and it resembled the style of the sentence in the notebook.

Moreover, she approached me on May 6th, the day after the terrifying event on May 5th.

The scariest thing happened on the 5th.

She came to my shop seeking help on the 6th.

It seemed a bit too coincidental! The entire notebook only had this one sentence, with most pages torn out, providing no additional clues. But I had a strong intuition that these words were written by Red Sister.

What had she encountered? A beautiful and wealthy woman should be living a comfortable life, yet she got involved in these mysterious and terrifying events.

What was the connection between her and the Strange Tales Live Room? Various questions and speculations floated in my mind.

I took a photo of this sentence in the diary with my phone, then closed the notebook and put it back in its place.

Leaving the study, I found a chair and propped it behind the front door.

The door opened inward, and if someone came back, pushing the door would inevitably make the chair hit and create a sound.

Then, I hid in a corner of the living room.

Tonight, I would stay here.

Waiting for a windfall!

If this was Red Sister's home, she should come back. I just hoped she wasn't a sly fox.

Turning off the phone's light, the thick darkness pressed against me like ink.

The doors and windows were tightly closed, the air was stagnant, and there was no sound in the spacious house. It was so quiet that I could hear my breathing clearly.

The waiting time was extremely agonizing as if time was infinitely stretched.

I looked towards the direction of the door countless times, hoping it would open. However, after waiting for a long time, there was still no movement.

Sitting alone in the dark, I always felt like something was watching me. I checked with my black-screen phone several times but saw nothing.

This kind of feeling is torture.

Anxiously waiting, I didn't know how long had passed. Eventually, without any support, drowsiness gradually overwhelmed me.

I held my phone, leaning against the wall, and unknowingly fell asleep.

In a daze, it seemed like I heard the sound of sharpening knives.

Huo huo huo—

Slow, rhythmic.

My temples throbbed. I wanted to wake up, but I was horrified to find that I couldn't open my eyes.

My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and my body couldn't move. It was as if an invisible, terrifying force was imprisoning me. My consciousness was clear, but I couldn't even move a finger.

I felt something standing next to me, looking down on me from a high position.

Fear spread through every pore of my body.

Breathing became tighter, like a fish on the brink of death, struggling with all its might, but still watching its life slip away.

As if a century passed.

Suddenly, I felt my body loosen. I woke up as if in a trance, lifting my eyelids.

No longer pitch black where I couldn't see my hand in front of my face; the room was dim, and it was already daylight.

Exhausted, I got up from the floor. The first thing I did was run to the front door to check.

The chair was still intact, propped against the door. No one had come in.

What was that suffocating and pressure-filled feeling last night? It couldn't have been a dream because it was too vivid. Moreover, I heard the sound of sharpening knives.

Right, the middle-aged woman on the 17th floor also mentioned the sound of sharpening knives! I quickly moved the chair back to its original position, left 1802, and took the elevator to the 17th floor.

Outside 1702.

I calmed myself, reached out, and knocked on the door.

After a long time, no one answered.

No barking of dogs either.

Not at home? Now, I could only hope that the middle-aged woman would call me.

I sighed.

Standing at the elevator, hesitating.

I didn't know whether to continue waiting in 1802 or go back and make a plan.

After last night, I had a genuine fear of that house. I didn't know what else might happen if I continued staying inside.

But that house was very likely Red Sister's home. If I let fear cause me to miss Red Sister, I wouldn't be able to unravel the secret of the Strange Tales Live Room.

Just as I couldn't make up my mind, the phone rang. It was a call from a neighbor in the urban village.

"Hey, Livai, aren't you at home? The fortune teller Wang Lame is waiting for you at the door of your shop, looking for you urgently. Hurry back."

"I'm out on business. Could you tell him for me? I'll be back soon."

Wang Lame didn't have a phone, so he must have been waiting anxiously to resort to calling someone.

Putting away my phone, I glanced at the dark door. I took the elevator down, preparing to return to the urban village.

It was already bright outside, with gentle sunlight shining on me, but I still felt cold all over.

"Hey, what are you doing?" When passing through the garden, a fierce voice stopped me.

I turned around and saw the security guard of the residential area.

"I'm looking for someone," I explained vaguely.

"Who? What's the door number?" Perhaps my cheap dressing raised suspicions, and the security guard, with hands behind his back, asked skeptically.

I had a sudden idea: "Building 6, Unit 2, Room 1802."

The security guard's face looked strange for two seconds, and then he sneered disdainfully, revealing the satisfaction of seeing through a lie.

"Hehe, 1802 has been empty since it was handed over. You're too green if you think you can fool me! This is a private residence, do not enter without permission. Get out quickly, or don't blame me for not giving you a chance!"