Doctor Gao's face clouded with doubt, his reservations about Chen Ge's proposal evident in the tightening of his jaw. "I'm afraid Men Nan might not be able to survive until tonight; his condition is deteriorating rapidly," he said, his voice heavy with concern for his student. The urgency in his tone underscored the severity of Men Nan's plight, a young man teetering on the edge of psychological collapse. Chen Ge glanced at Men Nan, whose head remained bowed in that unnatural, oppressive posture, as if an invisible force anchored him to the ground. The doctor's words echoed the black phone's cryptic warning about the special visitor, amplifying Chen Ge's suspicion that Men Nan's condition was not merely psychological but tied to the supernatural forces that had been guiding his own path. The stakes felt higher now, each moment a delicate balance between uncovering the truth and pushing Men Nan past his breaking point.
Men Nan stood silently, his head still lowered, his pupils darting erratically as if scanning for an unseen threat. The unnatural rhythm of his eye movements sent a shiver through Chen Ge, who couldn't shake the feeling that the young man was reacting to something beyond the visible world. His silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the park visitors around them, and it reinforced Chen Ge's belief that Men Nan was the key to the black phone's mysterious agenda. "But there's no better option," Chen Ge said firmly, meeting Doctor Gao's gaze. "His condition is completely different from Wang Xin's, so I'm limited in what I can do without more information. But if you trust me, let me visit his apartment tonight. A fresh perspective might uncover something you've overlooked. Also, I have another question for him." The proposal was a calculated risk, driven by the black phone's hint that his choices could shape the outcome of this encounter.
Stepping closer to Men Nan, Chen Ge moved deliberately, his hand slowly sweeping through the air above the young man's head and along his spine, as if testing for an unseen presence. The gesture was subtle but intentional, born of his experiences with the Haunted House's spectral inhabitants. "What are you doing?" Doctor Gao asked, his voice tinged with confusion and a hint of unease at Chen Ge's unorthodox approach. Chen Ge paused, his eyes fixed on Men Nan's rigid posture. "Doctor Gao, have you noticed that whether he's talking or walking, he keeps his head lowered? It's as if something is pressing down on his skull, forcing it into that position." The observation had been nagging at Chen Ge since their conversation began, Men Nan's posture too unnatural to be mere habit. "Men Nan, doesn't it feel exhausting to hold your head like that all the time?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing, hoping to coax a response from the young man.
Doctor Gao's eyes widened slightly, as if Chen Ge's observation had struck a chord. He reached out, patting Men Nan lightly on the back, his touch both reassuring and investigative. "Are you still feeling uncomfortable?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. Men Nan's response was a weak wave of his hands, his head remaining stubbornly lowered, as if defying any attempt to lift it. The effort of standing in the crowded line seemed to overwhelm him, his body trembling faintly as if on the verge of losing control. Noticing the young man's distress, Doctor Gao acted swiftly, guiding Men Nan away from the throng to a quieter, shaded corner of the park where the dim light might ease his agitation. Chen Ge watched them go, his mind racing with the implications of Men Nan's behavior, the black phone's silence adding to the weight of the moment.
The erratic movement of Men Nan's pupils stuck with Chen Ge, a detail that felt significant in its abnormality. The young man's eyes darted constantly, often rolling upward as if straining to see something just above his head, a gesture that sent a chill down Chen Ge's spine. It wasn't just nervousness; it was as if Men Nan was hyper-aware of an invisible presence looming over him. Chen Ge's gaze drifted to the young man's shadow, noting its sharp outline against the ground. Unlike a natural hunchback, whose spine would curve, Men Nan's back was ramrod straight, with only his head bowed forward, giving the unsettling impression that an unseen weight rested squarely on his skull. The recurring dream of washing his hair, coupled with this posture, hinted at a deeper connection—perhaps a spectral force exerting its influence, tying Men Nan to the supernatural mysteries Chen Ge had been unraveling.
The question of the dream gnawed at Chen Ge: why washing his hair? The act, so mundane in waking life, had taken on a sinister significance in Men Nan's nightmares, each repetition bringing a menacing figure closer. The black phone remained silent, offering no further clues about the special visitor, and Chen Ge forced himself to focus. The prospect of a reward was enticing, but he reminded himself that special visitors were bonuses—valuable if seized, but not worth obsessing over if they slipped away. After sending two more groups of visitors into the Haunted House, he noticed Men Nan's condition stabilize under Doctor Gao's expert care. The doctor's counseling skills were evident, calming the young man's frayed nerves until he appeared sedated, his trembling subsiding into a fragile calm. Chen Ge marveled at Doctor Gao's ability to steady someone so close to the edge, a testament to his expertise in navigating psychological turmoil.
Doctor Gao returned with Men Nan, their expressions resolute as they approached Chen Ge. "Eight p.m. tonight," Doctor Gao said, his voice firm with decision. "We'll meet you at Hai Ming Apartments." Chen Ge nodded, sealing the agreement. "Okay," he replied, and at that moment, the black phone vibrated in his pocket, a subtle buzz that sent a jolt of anticipation through him. "Let him try to sleep normally tonight, and I'll keep watch over him." Doctor Gao's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "I'll accompany you," he said, gratitude evident in his tone as he thanked Chen Ge before leading Men Nan away. The encounter left Chen Ge with a sense of unease, the weight of another strange case settling over him like a dark cloud, its threads weaving into the Haunted House's enigmatic tapestry.
As soon as they departed, Chen Ge pulled out the black phone, his fingers moving swiftly to check the new message. "The second special visitor has left. Through your effort, you have unlocked the mission information! Unlocked Hidden Trial Mission—A Room of Three," it read. The mission details followed: "A Room of Three (1 Star Scream Factor): Arrive at Hai Ming Apartment before midnight and find out the reason behind the special visitor's illness. Mission Venue: Hai Ming Apartment Room 303. Mission Hint: He came from the Third Sick Hall." The warning was clear: "The Trial Mission is only active for twenty-four hours. If you do not accept it within this time limit, it'll be taken as forfeit, and this scenario will stay locked forever." Chen Ge's heart quickened, the mention of the Third Sick Hall tying this mission to the cryptic clue found in the paper crane, a connection that felt too deliberate to be mere chance.
The reference to the Third Sick Hall sent a surge of adrenaline through Chen Ge, its significance resonating with the bloodied note he had uncovered earlier. "He came from the Third Sick Hall?" he muttered, his mind racing. Had Men Nan been treated there, or was the figure in his dreams somehow linked to that ominous location? The repetition of the number three—Room of Three, Third Sick Hall, three weeks of dreams—felt like a pattern, a puzzle embedded in the mission's design. Was it possible that two spirits inhabited Men Nan, or did the "three" refer to Chen Ge, Doctor Gao, and Men Nan entering Room 303 together? The ambiguity was maddening, but given the mission's connection to the three-star Third Sick Hall scenario, Chen Ge knew he couldn't afford to be careless. He memorized every detail, ensuring no clue was overlooked, before slipping the phone back into his pocket, his resolve hardening for the night ahead.
With the mission details etched in his mind, Chen Ge contacted Xu Wan, instructing her to take over ticket sales while he slipped into the Murder by Midnight scenario to play the ghost. The role was second nature now, his movements precise as he orchestrated scares with practiced ease, the visitors' screams a fleeting distraction from the weight of the upcoming mission. No accidents disrupted the morning, and during the lunch break, Chen Ge opted to skip the canteen, where Xu Wan and other park staff gathered. Instead, he made his way alone to the park office, his thoughts consumed by the mysteries of Hai Ming Apartments and the Third Sick Hall. The solitude gave him space to plan, to brace himself for whatever truths—or terrors—awaited in Room 303, where the black phone's next chapter would unfold.
The revelation of Director Luo's daughter, Luo Ruoyu, as the potential guardian spirit of New Century Park had left Chen Ge with a tangle of questions, each one pulling him deeper into the mystery surrounding his parents' disappearance and the Haunted House's supernatural undercurrents. Determined to seek answers, he took the elevator to the top floor of the park's administrative building, his mind racing with the implications of the bracelet, the bloodied paper crane, and the cryptic note pointing to the Third Sick Hall. The door to Director Luo's office stood ajar, a habit Chen Ge had noticed before—the director seemed to recoil from the idea of being confined in a sealed space, as if open doors offered a reassurance against unseen threats. Chen Ge knocked lightly on the doorframe, the sound echoing softly in the quiet office. Moments later, Director Luo emerged, his arms laden with a stack of reports, his expression one of distracted focus until he registered Chen Ge's presence.
"Director Luo, I have a few questions for you. Do you have some time?" Chen Ge asked, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. The weight of the objects in his pocket—the bracelet inscribed with Luo Ruoyu's name and the blood-stained note—felt heavier than their physical form, as if they carried the answers to questions he had been chasing for years. Director Luo glanced up, his eyes sharp despite the fatigue etched into his features. "Problems with the underground parking lot?" he asked, setting the reports down on his cluttered desk, their edges curling from frequent handling. His assumption was reasonable, given Chen Ge's role in managing the Haunted House, but the true nature of his visit was far more personal, tied to the spectral threads weaving through the park's history.
"No, it's not that, but something else entirely," Chen Ge replied, his tone measured as he reached into his pocket. He carefully placed Luo Ruoyu's plastic bracelet and the bloodied note left by his parents on Director Luo's desk, the objects stark against the polished wood. "These are the things I found in the underground parking lot, beside a support beam," he said, watching the director's reaction closely. The bracelet, with its faded colors and childish design, seemed out of place in the formal setting, while the note, with its cryptic reference to the Third Sick Hall, carried an air of menace. "What is it that you wish to know?" Director Luo asked, his gaze settling on the bracelet, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "There are plenty of toys like this scattered in unnoticeable corners around the park. I placed them there myself." His voice was calm, but there was a wistful undertone, as if the act of placing the toys was a ritual tied to a deeper, unspoken grief.
Chen Ge's brow furrowed, the director's admission sparking more questions than answers. "Why would you do that?" he pressed, his curiosity tinged with suspicion. The idea of deliberately scattering a child's toys throughout the park seemed peculiar, even for someone as enigmatic as Director Luo. The director's eyes softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability breaking through his usual composure. "All the toys are my daughter's favorites," he said quietly. "I placed them around the park so that when she returned, she would not feel so lonely. They're a way to keep her close, to make the park feel like home for her spirit." The words carried a weight of loss that Chen Ge felt viscerally, the image of a grieving father leaving tokens for his lost daughter painting a poignant picture. Yet, the explanation only deepened the mystery of Luo Ruoyu's presence and her connection to the Haunted House.
Chen Ge's gaze shifted to the bloodied note, its crumpled surface and ominous message standing in stark contrast to the innocent bracelet. "Then did you place other things alongside the toys, like this?" he asked, sliding the note closer to Director Luo. The director leaned forward, his eyes scanning the blood-stained paper with its scrawled reference to the Third Sick Hall. He studied it for a long moment before shaking his head, his expression resolute. "I have no recollection of this; it wasn't me," he said firmly, his voice carrying a certainty that left no room for doubt. The denial was a blow to Chen Ge's hopes, as he had assumed Director Luo, as the park's overseer, might hold clues to his parents' disappearance or the significance of the note. The realization that even the director was unaware of his daughter's spiritual return to the park—and the secrets tied to the Third Sick Hall—left Chen Ge grappling with a sense of isolation in his quest for answers.
Disappointment settled over Chen Ge like a heavy fog as he reached for the note, preparing to leave the office with more questions than when he arrived. "Then, I'm sorry for disturbing you," he said, his voice tinged with frustration as he gathered the bracelet and note. The weight of his parents' secrets, coupled with the mystery of Luo Ruoyu's spectral presence, pressed heavily on him, each clue a tantalizing fragment of a larger puzzle. Just as he turned to go, Director Luo's voice stopped him. "Wait a minute!" The director rose slowly from his chair, his movements deliberate as he gestured for Chen Ge to show him the note again. "This is your father's handwriting, isn't it?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and recognition that caught Chen Ge off guard. The observation was startling—few people paid such close attention to handwriting, and Director Luo's familiarity with his father's script hinted at a deeper connection between their families.
Chen Ge's heart quickened, a spark of hope igniting amidst his disappointment. "Yes, you can recognize it?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise as he handed the note back to Director Luo. The director's eyes narrowed as he read the words again, his fingers tracing the scrawled letters. "The Third Sick Hall…" he murmured, his voice heavy with recollection. "Right before your parents disappeared, I heard them mention this place. It was a fleeting conversation, but the name stuck with me because it seemed to carry a weight for them, something urgent." The revelation sent a jolt through Chen Ge, the connection between the note, his parents, and the Third Sick Hall snapping into focus. Director Luo's words were a lifeline, a fragile thread linking the past to the present, and Chen Ge knew he was one step closer to unraveling the truth behind his parents' fate and the Haunted House's enigmatic legacy.