Chapter 52 |
Shen Ge felt like he was standing on a glass walkway thirteen stories high—except there was no glass beneath him. Just empty air. Anyone with even a hint of acrophobia would’ve collapsed in terror by now.
“Director?” Shen Ge called out to Deng Yuqi.
Her voice quickly responded through the earpiece: “Copy. What’s your status?”
“I’ve only taken one step up. Are you hearing my voice directly, or just through the comms?” Shen Ge asked.
“Through the earpiece,” Deng Yuqi replied.
“Fascinating. We’re only a step apart, yet sound can’t travel normally. But signals still work,” Shen Ge mused.
“A ghost space is more like a spatial distortion—still within our reality, just segmented. Imagine a house divided into countless soundproofed rooms. Where you enter is unpredictable. That single step might’ve placed you on the 20th or 30th floor. Sound can’t propagate, but weak signals can.”
Shen Ge experimentally stepped back. Instead of returning to the stairwell, he merely retreated a pace, still suspended in midair.
He took a few more cautious steps upward.
“Huo Yu, can you see Shen Ge from the 13th floor?” Deng Yuqi radioed.
“Negative,” came Huo Yu’s reply. “From our perspective, everything above the 13th floor is ‘invisible.’ No people or objects are visible.”
Shen Ge analyzed, “So the area above the 13th floor isn’t just ‘gone’—it’s become transparent. Outsiders can’t see in, and from inside, it’s like walking through an invisible maze.”
“Proceed carefully,” Deng Yuqi instructed. “First, determine your current floor. Then head to the 17th to locate the source. Safety first—no unnecessary risks!”
“Understood.” Shen Ge continued upward, using the ghost glove to trace the unseen wall. From his vantage, even the lower twelve floors had vanished—his gaze dropped straight to the ground.
Though his feet registered solid ground, the sheer psychological weight of seeing nothing below was something only acrophobics could truly grasp.
Before entering, Shen Ge and Deng Yuqi had studied the building’s floor plan. The stairwell had exactly 23 steps per floor. On the final step, he moved with extra caution.
Tap.
As his foot landed on the last step, he gripped the railing tightly. Thanks to the glove’s “Unyielding” trait, even if he slipped, he wouldn’t fall.
Unsure of his current floor, Shen Ge headed for the elevator lobby, hoping to find survivors for intel.
Guided by mental blueprints, he navigated the unseen hallway. The building had two staircases and four units per floor. The moment he stepped into the lobby, cries erupted from his right.
Ten meters away, suspended in midair, a family of three—two adults and a child—clung to each other in terror. The man spotted Shen Ge first and shouted, “Police? Comrade Officer! Help us, please!”
His accent was odd—like a foreigner mangling Mandarin. Stranger still, Shen Ge could hear him clearly, despite Cheng Shengnan’s earlier report that sound couldn’t penetrate the anomaly.
Shen Ge signaled for silence. “Stay put. Once I resolve the situation, I’ll evacuate you.”
“Comrade, get me out now!” The man scrambled up, legs shaking too violently to glance downward.
“Husband!”
“Daddy!”
His wife and young son, paralyzed by fear, couldn’t even stand.
Ignoring them, the man hunched forward like a crab, lurching toward Shen Ge—only to slam face-first into an invisible barrier.
“What is this? You’re police, right? Save me!” He battered the unseen wall, desperation morphing into rage.
The man looked to be in his thirties, with narrow eyes and a plaid bathrobe. Fear twisted his features.
“Final warning: Get. Down.” Shen Ge’s voice turned icy.
“I’m Korean—a lawyer! I have diplomatic privileges here! If you abandon me, I’ll report you to the embassy!”
“Idiot.” Shen Ge strode past without a second glance.
Fumbling along the barrier, the man suddenly yanked at something—and a painting materialized in his grip.
Wait. This was on my wall?
He groped further, “finding” another painting. The first one vanished the moment he dropped it.
Am I still inside my apartment? Just… unable to see it?
Realizing the “wall” was his own home, he traced it to the door, wrenched the handle open, and bolted out—abandoning his family.
“Husband, don’t leave us!”
“Daddy!”
Ignoring their pleas, he sprinted after Shen Ge.
“Wait! Take me with you!” The man lunged wildly.
Between the submachine gun and sidearm, Shen Ge was hardly an easy target. He pivoted, delivering a textbook side kick—freshly mastered the day before—to the man’s gut, dropping him to his knees.
“Apologies. My priority is protecting our citizens. For Korean emergencies, dial Korean police. Need the embassy’s number? I’d be happy to look it up.” Shen Ge smiled politely.
Gasping, the man switched tactics: “I’m overseas Chinese! Just visiting family! Please, get me out!”
“Oh?” Shen Ge feigned interest. “Then answer this: What’s the largest island in our country? No thinking—answer now! Three, two—”
“Taiwan!” the man blurted.
This lunatic’s quizzing me during a crisis?
Shen Ge tsked. “Wrong. It’s Hokkaido.”
The hell—Hokkaido?!
This guy’s insane!
The man gaped, finally realizing Shen Ge was toying with him.
“Traitor.” Shen Ge eyed him with disgust.
“A wife-and-child-abandoning traitor.”
He turned toward the hallway corner. Over his shoulder, he asked, “One last question: What floor is this?”
“21st,” the man muttered.
Without another word, Shen Ge walked away.
“Hey! Wait!”
The man’s shouts faded behind him.
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