Chapter 67: The Emotion of Fear

The door was pushed open, revealing a pitch-black interior without a trace of light.

Only at the drawn-back curtains did a faint glow seep in from outside, lending the space an unnerving, sinister quietness.

An unfathomable sense of dread saturated every inch of the room. It felt as if an eerie, bone-deep chill pervaded the air, chilling enough to make one’s pores constrict involuntarily. This coldness wasn’t physical; it was the kind that, even in the height of summer with sweat pouring down your back, could make you suddenly cower on the floor, pressing your head down in silent agony, enduring the peak of torment, too terrified to make a single sound.

Lu Xin walked slowly through the room. It was a one-living-room, two-bedroom apartment. The ceiling felt somewhat low. A TV, sofa, and dining table stood out, all neatly arranged. The considerable square footage made the space feel hollow and desolate.

“This apartment building still has power; you can turn on the lights!”

Han Bing’s voice came softly over the comms, reminding Lu Xin.

Lu Xin nodded. He intended to feel for the light switch but withdrew his hand.

“Let me look around first,” he answered Han Bing in a low voice. He continued his slow exploration of the room, with Little Sister following closely beside him.

The living room was stark and empty, holding nothing.

In the first bedroom Lu Xin pushed open, clutter was piled up, but nothing unusual could be seen.

So, Lu Xin slowly grasped the doorknob of the second bedroom and turned it cautiously.

A quiet click sounded as the door swung inward.

Instantly, Lu Xin was hit by a powerful, abruptly released stench of decay. He raised a sleeve to cover his nose and mouth. At the same moment, Little Sister lightly tugged at his side. Even without her warning, Lu Xin’s eyes, now adjusted to the gloom within, had already spotted a human form lying prone on the floor. The overwhelming stench of rot emanated from it.

It was a dead body.

But what put Lu Xin on alert wasn’t the corpse itself; it was the windowsill.

There, by the sill, sat a dark silhouette. Hunched over with knees pulled to the chest, it sat silently by the window, gazing out at the view outside.

And the moment Lu Xin saw it, he was absolutely certain: that intense, suffocating fear originated from this figure.

Little Sister fixed her gaze on the dark silhouette, crouching slightly, her eyes gleaming with interest.

Lu Xin waved a hand gently, signaling Little Sister not to intimidate it. “Can we communicate?” he asked softly.

The shadowed figure remained silent and motionless, still hugging its knees by the window, giving no response.

“Confirmed. It’s just a minor source of contamination,” Lu Xin said quietly into the comms to Han Bing. He then turned and felt behind the door for the light switch.

Click.

As light abruptly flooded the room, the silhouette at the window vanished instantly. The pervasive sense of dread within the room also seemed to recede significantly. Now illuminated, Lu Xin could clearly see the room’s layout.

A relatively wide bed stood there, its duvet thrown into disarray, half spilling onto the floor.

Following the trail of the bedding, his eyes landed on the lifeless body sprawled face-down.

The person had likely been dead for four or five days; signs of decomposition were evident in multiple places on the corpse.

The posture suggested someone who had crawled off the bed. One hand stretched out desperately forward. Two or three meters from the outstretched fingers lay a small medicine bottle. A few bright yellow capsule-shaped pills had spilled out onto the floor.

It seemed that in his final moments, he had been reaching for that bottle, but hadn’t succeeded.

“We’ve retrieved relevant records,” Han Bing’s voice came softly through the comms. “Apartment C, Unit 1004, Kuanggong Residential Area was leased to a male named Wang Chu, aged twenty-three. He worked at a factory in the Northern District. Lived alone. No registered next of kin. No other criminal history. Can you identify the cause of death?”

Lu Xin crouched down and picked up the small medicine bottle. Faded lettering read “Nitroglycerin.”

Han Bing, likely able to see the bottle label via the feed from Lu Xin’s body camera, immediately analyzed, “Nitroglycerin is used to prevent and treat symptoms like coronary heart disease and angina. If the body shows no other external injuries, it’s highly plausible the cause of death was a sudden heart attack, compounded by failing to reach his medication in time. Of course, a definitive cause would require an autopsy.”

“…”

“What’s the procedure now?” Lu Xin asked Han Bing over the comms.

“Recommend using a special containment bag for the remains. Isolate the source. Then admit the Support Team.”

Lu Xin acknowledged. He retrieved a bag folded into a small square bundle from his backpack. Unfolding it revealed a substantial pouch made of a plastic-like material uncommon on the market – Lu Xin recognized the woven fiberglass composite from prior jobs. He carefully placed the body inside, sealed the bag, paused for a moment, and then slipped the medicine bottle inside as well.

The pervasive fear in the surroundings dissipated rapidly, becoming barely perceptible.

Meanwhile, Han Bing reached out to the Support Team via the comms.

… …

“So, how exactly did this contamination source form?”

Lu Xin walked to the window, pushed it open to air out the lingering stench, and posed the question.

“A detailed report will come from the follow-up analysis…” Han Bing began, then added thoughtfully, “Though the sequence isn’t hard to piece together. This young man, Wang Chu, lived alone in this apartment. No family. No friends. He suffered from heart disease, hence the nitroglycerin. But one night, his heart failed him. He couldn’t reach the life-saving medicine in time. He died here, alone. The intense emotions surging before death likely triggered the aberration in his psyche. However, because he harbored no malice, it manifested as a low-level, sub-D-class contamination source rather than transforming him into a Psychic Entity. Since the host is deceased, the contamination’s spread is passive and slow. Paradoxically, sources like this – projecting pure, raw emotion – often deliver the most severe psychological impact. But due to its inability to actively assimilate or attack, its danger level and contamination rating are considered low. Theoretically, this qualifies as an E-class source – a comparatively pure form of contamination. While its influence range is extensive, brief exposure shouldn’t cause true contamination. Naturally, sustained exposure would inevitably induce terrifying changes.”

“…”

“Then…” Lu Xin listened quietly. “Why did it leave behind only this lingering… overwhelming fear?”

“Likely because he was very, very scared,” Han Bing replied after a brief pause, her voice gentle. “Not just the fear of dying. It was also the terror of a solitary existence: the fear that he could die here, entirely alone, and that no one would ever discover or care. That fear is what transformed him into this specific type of contamination source.”

“…”

After a moment, Lu Xin nodded faintly. “That makes sense.”

His gaze instinctively shifted towards Little Sister, who hadn’t gone far. Seeing that the Support Team hadn’t yet arrived, she was happily dismantling the toys and figurines the young man had displayed on shelves in the living room. Her eyes shone bright with excitement, her face a picture of glee. Watching her, Lu Xin felt a sudden measure of peace.

After all, he wasn’t alone; he had his family with him.