My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 788: Night Watchman

Chapter 788: Chapter 788: Night Watchman

The collector really wanted to own the ashes that glowed black, but he didn’t want to become ashes himself.

Just as the Soul Poison from Big Evil was about to drip onto the collector’s face, he seemed to suddenly wake from a dream, "The Night Watchman you mentioned—I’ve seen him! He carries a camera and wherever he goes, he records everything! He was once a well-known Crime Chaser! Later on, nobody knows what he went through, but in a very short time he degraded into a Night Watchman."

Han Fei watched the suddenly changing statement of the collector with a sly smile and took out a heart cooked by Xu Qin from his Item Bar, and he leisurely began to eat it.

Big Evil stood between the collector and Han Fei, its mouth hovering over the collector’s head. It was a threat to the collector, yet it ensured Han Fei’s safety—a situation Han Fei enjoyed the most.

"I feel like you’re lying."

"Everything I said is true!"

"If you want to establish trust, then eat this half of the heart." Han Fei, using Xu Qin’s Curse and Big Evil’s Soul Poison, wove a net in the collector’s body that bound his soul. The collector realized his current situation; his eyes were filled with reluctance, but he was helpless.

"Stop struggling; the more you struggle, the faster you’ll die." Han Fei touched the collector’s soul, which was covered in a disgusting coppery smell, "Not even a special resident? I’m very disappointed."

"You can have everything in this collection room, and I will fulfill all your demands. Just spare my life." The collector knew he had misjudged the stakes. He hadn’t expected the Outsider, who groveled before Zhang Shu, to harbor such a terrifying monster inside. Of course, the main reason was that Han Fei played his part too well, reducing the collector’s vigilance to the lowest right from the start.

"I’m not a brutal person, nor do I like killing. You work for me, and in ten days, I will help you lift the Death Curse." A completely desperate person has no value in use; only by giving him a sliver of hope will he obey and strive forward.

"Fine, I’ll take you to that Night Watchman right now."

The collector and Han Fei left the room together. The man called Zhang Shu saw them come out and thought they had come to an agreement; he ran up to the collector like a fawning dog, ready to take credit.

He rubbed his hands together, his face obsequious, but before he could speak, the collector stabbed a sharp white dagger deep into his abdomen.

The collector acted very quickly; he had hidden the white dagger on him in advance. If Han Fei had been slightly careless earlier, he might have ended up just like Zhang Shu.

"How dare you treat a guest from afar with such disrespect; you’re becoming less and less decent."

Pulling out the dagger, the collector held the knife, which was completely white and unstained by any blood.

He himself wasn’t very strong, but the knife he held was quite special.

After Zhang Shu had breathed his last, the collector then put on a different face, "That eyesore is finally dead. He was the reason you were upset just now, right?"

Both being cleaners of the Rustic Ladder, the collector killed outright; Han Fei gained a deeper understanding of this building.

The group walked through the dark alleys, avoiding the crowd; they stepped on the bones of adventurers, arriving at the busiest corridor on the tenth floor.

"Because of its stable environment, the tenth floor attracts many people from other floors, so it has become increasingly prosperous." The collector was about to lock the door leading to the dark alley, but a rotting corpse’s hand was stuck in the door gap. He kicked the severed hand away somewhat embarrassly, "Some people live very well here, so naturally, there are others who pay for their pleasure. The existence of the dark path is actually to protect everyone here. As long as you don’t become prey, you can live very happily."

"This building is indeed quite pragmatic."

With the Rustic Ladder’s boss, the collector leading the way, Han Fei avoided many troubles, and they finally stopped in front of door number 000109, which was set up as a tavern.

"Most Night Watchmen hide in restricted areas because they have many enemies, but the Night Watchman you’re looking for is quite special. He loves to stay in crowded places, often sitting here alone all day, until he runs out of money, then he goes to the restricted area to find things he can exchange for money. I have quite a collection of items that he gave to me."

After opening two iron doors in succession and passing through a long corridor, Han Fei smoothly entered the "tavern."

The "tavern" wasn’t just about alcohol; there were many other things too.

In the center of a shabby dance floor, there was a huge iron cage covered in bloodstains, as if it had once contained something.

The dim lights slowly swept across, and various people sat on the worn sofas, each holding a cup containing blood-red liquor.

"Give me five of the worst drinks." The collector approached the bar and said in a low voice.

"You’re still as stingy as ever." The tavern’s owner, also the brewer himself, his body hidden behind the room under the bar, invisible to anyone.

"Shh! Lower your voice!" The collector, clearly frightened, quickly turned to explain to Han Fei, "Whatever you do here, you must order a drink. You can try it later; the tavern’s liquor is famously delicious. Many people from other floors come here specifically to drink."

"You call this stuff ’liquor’?" Han Fei looked at the murky, thick Blood Wine in someone else’s cup.

"Although no one knows how this drink is actually made, it indeed tastes just like alcohol, and after drinking it, there’s no harm to one’s health." As the Collector was conversing with Han Fei, a small window behind the bar was slid open, and a completely deformed arm full of scars and marked with a curse placed a glass on the counter.

"Your drink is ready." No one could see the body of the tavern owner; the process involved only hearing his voice and catching sight of his one arm.

Holding his drink, the Collector started scanning the tavern, "Follow me, the regulars are generally in the back; they do not like to be disturbed."

Avoiding the people in the living room, the Collector, sipping on his drink, led Han Fei into a room at the back of the tavern.

The light became dimmer, and a stench of something rotting filled the room.

"Great journalist, someone’s looking for you, answer his questions well, and I can buy you another week’s worth of drink." The Collector spoke a series of numbers that seemed to be the Night Watchman’s name.

Han Fei also looked toward the Collector, in a corner on a broken bed, lay a middle-aged man clutching a professional camera, his eyes wide open with pupils full of blood vessels as if he hadn’t slept for a long time.

"Don’t fake dead; I’ve helped you out so many times, you should know to return the favor." The Collector abruptly stopped when he saw the Night Watchman raise the camera, pointing its lens at him.

The camera seemed to possess the ability of a curse, and the Collector, wisely shutting his mouth, even squeezed out a faint smile.

Han Fei’s resistance to curses was already maximized; he could be said to have grown up on curses, and at this moment, he walked directly to the bedside.

Recognizing the Night Watchman’s face, Han Fei felt a sense of familiarity as his memory would normally allow him a clear recollection of a face, even just from brushing past someone in everyday life.

"Have I seen you on TV before?" Han Fei tried hard to recall various criminal cases he had seen, but the faces in those photos and videos simply did not match up with the Night Watchman’s face, "Were you once a journalist?"

The Night Watchman didn’t bother to reply; he just turned his head to the other side, revealing a neck densely packed with crimes — Xu Fucai, Snakehead, Fu Ming.

"A Crime Chaser?" Han Fei waved others out first, waiting until he and the journalist were alone in the room before slowly beginning, "When did you enter this building? Was it through a mirror in the Murder Club or through some other passage?"

The mention of Murder Club caused the journalist’s eyebrows to knit together, but he still ignored Han Fei, seeming to consider it beneath him to speak to anyone in the building.

"If I say I have a way to get you out of this building, can you team up with me since I am also a Crime Chaser?" Han Fei’s single sentence carried two weighty pieces of information, prompting the journalist who had been lying on the bed to slowly turn over.

He stared at Han Fei’s face, looking into the light in Han Fei’s eyes.

"There are no Crime Chasers in this building, only bad people and even worse people."

"That’s not necessarily true; as long as I am alive, there can still be a good person in this building." Han Fei sat at the edge of the bed, "You give me a different feeling from the others, we come from the same place, we were originally the same type of people."

"But soon you will become just like me, I can almost see your end now, either dead or wanting to die but unable to." The journalist drained his glass in one gulp, "The only advice I can give you is to embrace the devil inside you, quickly become the person you used to hate the most, it’ll spare you some suffering."

"You didn’t hold out, perhaps because you can’t leave this building, hope slowly dissipates, despair accumulates continually, until it finally crushes you." Han Fei looked at the Blood Wine in his glass, with no desire to try it, "The biggest difference between us is that I know the way out, so no matter what I go through, the hope in my eyes will never be extinguished."

"You keep talking about this way to leave. If there really were such a method, would you still stay here?" The journalist’s words carried impatience, and his voice began to change, and as his emotions wavered, a Ghost Face faintly appeared on his face!

"I can let you have a look, to prove that I’m not lying to you. But before that, you must tell me everything about you, including your name, experience, and how you entered this building." Han Fei’s Soul-summoning Talent could be used once more tonight, and if necessary, he could call over Brother Huang Ying, whom Han Fei also missed, having not seen him in a long while.

Influenced by Han Fei’s Word Spirit Ability, the journalist hesitated for a long time before finally speaking, "My name is Ji Zheng, a journalist at Xinhu Radio Station, and honestly, I have no real sense of justice. Ordinary radio programs have long been out of listeners, I wanted to make a change, so I turned my attention to some bizarre and eerie cases."

"Investigate, expose, unmask, I sent many scoundrels to jail."

"My reputation slowly grew, but then I was targeted."

"A few weeks later, I received information that the Welfare Home run by Eternal Life Pharmaceutical was involved in child abuse, and so I conducted an investigation that lasted half a year."

"The final findings would drop everyone’s jaw, the Welfare Home under Eternal Life Pharmaceutical was not just abusing children, they were also testing new drugs on some orphans, it was completely monstrous."

"At that point, I didn’t care about anything, I just wanted to save those kids, even if it meant smashing into the massive entity of Eternal Life Pharmaceutical and being shattered to pieces."

The journalist suddenly stopped there, and Han Fei became anxious, "And then what happened?"

"Forgot." The journalist pointed at his head, "Someone put a worm in my brain, it’s eating away at my memories, and now I can’t remember who put that worm in, I only remember them laughing maniacally, the room was filled with flower-like human heads."