Chapter 605: The Reporter

One side of the seal was covered in dust, while the other was completely clean—it had clearly just been torn off.

Chen Mo knew I meant well. He nodded and lowered the tip of his fruit knife.

"I'll take the lead. Stay close." His voice still trembled a bit. He took a shaky step forward, then forcefully pushed open the door to the Central Operating Room, as if trying to bolster his own courage.

The fool stood in the doorway, shining his flashlight inside. He'd just told us to stay close, but the moment he actually pushed the door open, his legs seemed to take root. He stood completely frozen.

"You made so much noise opening that door. If anyone's in there, they definitely noticed us immediately. They'll hide in the dark and wait to deal a lethal blow," I said helplessly. We were originally in the shadows, but Chen Mo's stunt had put us in a slightly awkward position.

"Then... what do we do now?" He turned to look at the Writer and me, as if seeking our input.

"We're already here, so what else can we do? We go in and take a look. Just be careful—don't touch anything you shouldn't." I reached out and pushed the operating room doors fully open. Relying on the flashlight's beam, I used my Judging Eye to observe the area carefully.

The Central Operating Room was massive, containing no less than seven smaller rooms of varying sizes. Their doors were all tightly shut. The thing we were looking for had to be in one of them.

"Nothing dangerous out here. It's safe for now."

"You're that sure?" the Writer asked, sounding surprised as he patted my shoulder. "Were you a scout in the military?"

"No, but I used to be a private detective. I'm good at tailing people, taking secret photos, investigating affairs, things like that. If your wife ever cheats on you, you can hire me to gather evidence," I said casually, not wanting to dwell on the subject with the Writer.

"I'm afraid you won't get the chance," the Writer said, his face falling in dissatisfaction with my tone.

"Fair enough." I glanced at the Writer and took the lead, stepping into the Central Operating Room.

Although Jianghu Cancer Research Hospital had been abandoned for years, it had once been Huaxia's premier cancer research facility. Its interior layout was highly professional, with clearly marked zones that gave off a distinct sense of order.

The sterile room, the pharmacy storage, the emergency operating room, the instrument and dressing prep room, and so on. Perhaps because of its unique location right in the center of the hospital, the doorplates on the Central Operating Room's walls were all clear and perfectly preserved.

I originally wanted Chen Mo to guard the door to leave us an escape route, but the guy was far too cowardly. He stuck close behind me, refusing to leave no matter how much I tried to shoo him away.

And I couldn't order the Writer around, which meant the three of us were lumped together, leaving no one to keep watch over the area as a whole.

"These rooms are all interconnected inside. Let's not bunch up. Someone needs to stay outside and keep watch."

I looked at the Writer. He grinned with his slightly deformed mouth. "Why don't you wait outside? If you guys actually find something, you might just pocket it behind my back."

"What could possibly be worth taking in this hellhole? I'm doing this for everyone's safety."

The Writer finally agreed. He closed the main doors to the operating room and leaned back into the corner; it seemed having his back against the wall was the only thing that made him feel secure.

Chen Mo and I opened the door to one of the rooms. The moment the hinges creaked—before we could even step inside—the door to the room closest to the department exit was pushed open.

"Who's there?" the Writer shouted in a low voice, immediately darting out of the corner to block the operating room exit. Realizing his escape route was cut off, a dark figure slowed down and stopped in his tracks.

Hearing the commotion, Chen Mo and I abandoned our search. We rushed out of the room, and the three of us formed a triangle, trapping the dark figure in the center.

"Man or ghost?"

Trapped in the middle, the dark figure remained calm and composed. He slowly backed up against the wall, holding something in his hands.

Chen Mo aimed the flashlight directly at the figure. Once we got a clear look at his attire, all three of us breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's alive."

He wore a faded tracksuit and had a messenger bag slung across his back. In his left hand, he held a dV (a handheld digital video camera), and in his right, a modified one-handed crossbow.

'He's recording with a dV. Could this guy be a live show streamer?' Even though I knew he wasn't a ghost, I still didn't dare drop my guard. I took two steps back and said to him in a low voice, "Don't panic. We don't mean you any harm. Just put down the crossbow first."

Although the hand crossbow looked small, it packed a lethal punch. It could easily pierce a car window from a few meters away. If a steel bolt struck a soft spot like an eye socket or the neck, it would be instantly fatal.

The man remained completely silent, his posture unchanging. With icy eyes, he slowly swept his gaze over the three of us. When he finished inspecting us, he furrowed his brows and asked, "Why are you people here?"

To earn his trust, I repeated the cover story I had made up earlier, then introduced the Writer and Chen Mo.

The man's reaction was lukewarm—right up until he heard that Chen Mo had a note and had been blackmailed into coming here. His expression immediately shifted.

I caught that subtle change. I told Chen Mo to take the note out of his bag and use the physical evidence to prove he wasn't lying.

Upon seeing the yellowed piece of paper, the man finally lowered his modified crossbow. His expression softened significantly.

"Did you also come here in the middle of the night because you received a note?" I asked, testing the waters. To my surprise, the man gave a brisk nod. He hung the dV around his neck, freed up a hand, and dug into his messenger bag, pulling out a note identical to Chen Mo's.

Both the material and the writing on it were exactly the same.

"Sorry, I was too on edge." The man put the note away and lowered the hand gripping the crossbow.

"Where did you get that note?" I waited until the man had un-nocked the steel bolt from his crossbow before I dared ask.

"This?" He waved the note, a bitter smile on his face. "I stole it from a morgue."

"Which morgue? The morgue in this hospital?" Chen Mo's eyes lit up, his tone urgent. "Have you already been to the Third Ward? Did you get the birth and death certificates? Hurry, let me see!"

"You're overthinking it. I stole this note from the morgue of a private hospital in Xinhu." The man sighed, his voice thick with deep regret. "I was just asking for trouble. I thought I could break a huge news story, but I ended up digging my own grave."

He hefted the dV in his hands. "I'm a reporter. If any of you are into supernatural urban legends, you've probably heard my name. I'm Zhang Heng."

"Zhang Heng?" I blurted out. My strong reaction drew curious glances from everyone around me.

"You've heard of me?" The man himself found it hard to believe. In truth, he was well aware that his profile wasn't very high.

To put it bluntly, using the word "profile" on a bottom-tier entertainment reporter like him was a waste of breath.

I knew I had lost my composure, but since the cat was out of the bag, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and admit it. "I think I've seen your reports online. The ones about Shuangfo District in Xinhu City."

"Yes, exactly! I wrote those reports!"

With the man confirming it himself, the Zhang Heng standing in front of me slowly overlapped with the Zhang Heng in my memory.

The first time I went to Xinhu to complete Li Jingyu's commission, I had accidentally entered the apartment Zhang Heng was renting. And I'd discovered some incredibly shocking things in his room!

That included a conversation between Lu Xing and a mysterious figure, as well as video footage of Lu Xing committing a skinning murder. This man's investigation into Shuangfo District had been remarkably detailed. Back then, I even stole a voice recorder from his room, and to this day, I still haven't managed to decrypt the third audio clip on it.

'So it's him.' This man was an enemy of the Two-Faced Buddha. He had risked his life to investigate the entity, and despite being an ordinary mortal, he had managed to uncover so many clues about the Two-Faced Buddha. To be completely honest, I deeply admired him.

It's just that when I visited his rented apartment back then, the landlady mentioned he hadn't been home for a long time. I assumed he had already been murdered. I never expected him to actually show up tonight in Jianghu Cancer Research Hospital.

Compared to the Writer and Chen Mo, I was actually far more interested in why Zhang Heng was here.

Aside from the fact that our paths had crossed in the past, there was a more crucial point: out of the three of them, Zhang Heng was the one who most closely resembled a live show streamer.