My Healing Games

Chapter 789 Night Police
The collector certainly wants to possess ashes that are so black they glow, but he doesn't want to become ashes himself.

Just as the soul poison from Da Nie's mouth was about to flow onto the collector's face, he seemed to suddenly wake up from a dream: "I've met that night watchman you mentioned! He carries a camera and takes pictures and records things wherever he goes! He used to be a very famous criminal investigator! Later, I don't know what he went through, but he fell into becoming a night watchman in a very short time."

Han Fei smiled as he watched the collector suddenly change his tune. He took out a heart cooked by Xu Qin from his inventory and slowly began to eat it.

The Great Evil stood between the collector and Han Fei, its mouth hovering above the collector's head. It could threaten the collector while ensuring Han Fei's safety, a situation Han Fei preferred.

I feel like you're lying.

"Everything I said is true!"

"If you want to build trust, then you'll have to eat this half of your heart." Han Fei used Xu Qin's curse and Da Nie's soul poison to weave a net that bound the collector's soul within his body. The collector understood his current predicament; his eyes were filled with resentment, yet he was helpless.

"Stop struggling, the more you struggle, the faster you'll die." Han Fei touched the collector's soul, which was stained with the stench of money and was nauseating: "Not even a special resident? I'm very disappointed."

"I can give you everything in this collection room, and I will fulfill all your requests. Can you spare my life?" The collector realized he had misjudged the situation. He hadn't expected that the outsider who was so humble in front of Zhang Shu would be hiding such a terrifying monster. Of course, the main reason was that Han Fei's acting was too good, which immediately lowered the collector's guard to the lowest level.

"I'm not a cruel person, and I don't like killing. If you do things for me, I'll lift the death curse for you in ten days." A person who is completely desperate has no value to you. Only by giving them a little hope will they listen and try to run forward.

"Okay, I'll take you to that night watchman now."

The collector and Han Fei walked out of the room together. When the man named Zhang Shu saw them come out, he thought that the deal had been reached and ran up to the collector like a lapdog, ready to take credit.

He rubbed his hands together, his face full of flattery, but before he could speak, the collector plunged a sharp white knife into his abdomen.

The collector acted very quickly; he had concealed the white dagger on his person beforehand. If Han Fei had been even slightly careless, he might have ended up like Zhang Shu.

"How dare you neglect guests who have come from afar? You're becoming more and more outrageous."

The collector pulled out the dagger; it was pure white, without a trace of blood.

He wasn't particularly strong, but the knife in his hand was quite special.

After Zhang Shu died, the collector put on a different face: "That eyesore is finally dead. Was he the one who upset you just now?"

As a fellow cleaner of rusty stairs, Han Fei gained a deeper understanding of the building after the collector killed him without hesitation.

The group walked through the dark alley, avoiding the crowds. They stepped over the bones of the adventurers and arrived at the tenth floor, where the most vendors were located.

“The tenth floor has become increasingly bustling because of its stable environment, which has attracted people from many other floors.” The collector was about to lock the door leading to the dark alley when a piece of rotting corpse hand bone got stuck in the crack. He kicked the severed hand away with a bit of embarrassment. “If some people are living very well, then naturally others have to pay for their pleasure. The existence of the dark alley is actually to protect everyone. Here, as long as you don’t become prey, you can live very happily.”

"This building is really realistic."

With the rusty ladder collector leading the way, Han Fei avoided many troubles and finally stopped in front of door number 000109, which had been 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 a bit special. He likes to stay in crowded places and often sits there alone all day until he runs out of money and then goes to the restricted area to find something to exchange for money. A significant portion of my collection was given to me by him.”

After opening two iron gates and passing through a long corridor, Han Fei successfully entered the "tavern".

Despite being called a "tavern," it offers many other things besides alcohol.

In the center of the simple dance floor stood a huge iron cage, which was covered in bloodstains and looked like it had previously contained something.

The dim light swept slowly across the dilapidated sofa, where all sorts of people sat, each holding a glass filled with blood-red liquor.

"Give me five glasses of the worst wine," the collector said in a low voice as he walked to the bar.

"You're as stingy as ever." The tavern owner, who was also the brewer, was hidden in the room behind the bar, out of sight of anyone.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" The collector was scared and quickly turned to Han Fei to explain, "No matter what you do here, you have to order a drink. You can try it later. The tavern's drinks are famously good. Many people from other floors come here specifically to drink."

"You call this wine?" Han Fei looked at the murky, viscous blood wine in someone else's cup.

“Although no one knows exactly how this wine is made, it does taste like wine, and it doesn’t do any harm to the body after drinking it.” As the collector was talking to Han Fei, a small window behind the bar was opened, and a scarred, cursed, and completely deformed arm placed a wine glass on the bar.

"Your drinks are ready." No one could see the tavern owner's body; all they could hear was his voice and see was one of his arms.

Holding his drink, the collector began to look around the tavern: "Come with me. The regulars are usually at the back; they don't like to be disturbed."

Avoiding the people in the living room, the collector sipped his wine and led Han Fei into a room at the back of the tavern.

The lights dimmed further, and the room reeked of something rotting.

“Big reporter, someone’s looking for you. Answer his questions properly, and I can buy you another week’s worth of wine.” The collector rattled off a string of numbers, which seemed to be the night watchman’s name.

Han Fei also looked towards the collector's direction. On a broken bed in the corner, a middle-aged man was lying on his side, holding a professional camera in his arms. His eyes were round, but his pupils were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept for a long time.

“Don’t play dead. I’ve helped you so many times, you should know how to repay kindness.” The collector stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence. He saw the night watchman raise his camera and point the camera at him.

The camera seemed to possess a curse-like power, and the collector wisely kept his mouth shut, even managing a forced smile.

Han Fei's resistance to curses was already at its maximum; he could be said to have "grown up" from curses. At this moment, he walked directly to the bedside.

When Han Fei saw the night watchman's face, he felt a sense of familiarity. With his memory, even if he brushed past the man in daily life, he could clearly recall his appearance within a short period of time.

"I think I've seen you on TV before?" Han Fei tried hard to recall the various murder cases he had seen, but the faces in those photos and videos didn't match the night watchman's: "You used to be a reporter?"

The night watchman didn't bother to answer; he turned his head to the other side, revealing a dense list of crimes on the back of his neck—Xu Fucai, snakehead, Fu Ming…

"A crime-fighting expert?" Han Fei waved for the others to leave first, and only when he and the reporter were left in the room did he slowly speak: "When did you get into this building? Did you get in through the mirror in the murder club? Or through some other passage?"

The reporter frowned at the sight of the people in the murder club, but he still ignored Han Fei, as if speaking to anyone in the building would be an insult to him.

"If I told you I had a way to get you out of this building, would you join forces with me? Because I'm also a criminal investigator." In just one sentence, Han Fei dropped two bombshells, and the reporter, who had been lying on his side on the bed, slowly turned over.

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

"There are no criminal investigators in this building, only bad people and even worse people."

“That’s not necessarily true. As long as I’m alive, there will be at least one good person in the building.” Han Fei sat on the edge of the bed. “You give me a completely different feeling from the others. We come from the same place, and we were the same kind of people at the beginning.”

"But soon you will become like me. I can almost see your end. You will either die or you will be unable to die even if you don't want to." The reporter finished the drink in his glass in one gulp. "I only have one piece of advice for you: accept the devil in your heart and become the kind of person you used to hate the most as soon as possible. That way you can suffer less."

“You didn’t persevere, probably because you couldn’t leave this building. Hope slowly faded, while despair kept accumulating until it finally crushed you.” Han Fei looked at the blood wine in his glass, without any intention of trying it. “The biggest difference between you and me is that I know the way out, so no matter what I’ve been through, the hope in my eyes will never be extinguished.”

"You keep talking about ways to leave. If there really were such a way, would you still be staying here?" The reporter's words carried a hint of impatience, and his voice began to change. As his emotions fluctuated, a ghostly face appeared on the reporter's face!
"I can let you see me to prove I'm not lying to you. But before that, you have to tell me everything about yourself, including your name, your background, and how you got into this building." Han Fei could use his necromancy talent one more time tonight. If all else failed, he would call Huang Ying over. He hadn't seen Brother Huang in a long time, and Han Fei missed him a bit.

Influenced by Han Fei's spiritual power, the reporter hesitated for a long time before finally speaking: "My name is Ji Zheng, and I'm a reporter at Xinhu Radio Station. Actually, I don't have any sense of justice at all. Ordinary radio programs have long been abandoned, and I want to make a change, which is why I've turned my attention to some strange and bizarre cases."

"Through investigation, exposure, and public scrutiny, I've sent many bastards to prison."

"My fame gradually grew, but I also became a target."

“A few weeks later, I received news that there was child abuse at the welfare home run by Yong Sheng Pharmaceuticals, so I conducted a six-month follow-up investigation.”

"The final result will probably shock everyone. The orphanage under Yong Sheng Pharmaceuticals is not only abusing children, but they are even testing new drugs on some orphans. It's simply outrageous."

"At that time, I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted to save those children. Even if I crashed into the behemoth that is Eternal Life Pharmaceuticals and ended up being smashed to pieces, I didn't care."

The reporter suddenly stopped there, and Han Fei asked anxiously, "What's next?"

“I’ve forgotten.” The reporter pointed to his head: “Someone put a worm in my brain, and it’s eating away at my memories. I’ve forgotten who put the worm in there. I only remember them laughing hysterically, and the room was filled with flowers that looked like human heads.”

(End of this chapter)