It's not too much to say that a beauty is a little bit stronger

Xiao Huai slowly opened his eyes, and the scene in front of him gradually became clear.

A long table stretched out in sight, and the table was filled with various delicacies. The candlelight dimly illuminated these exquisite tableware and food.

There are six chairs on both sides of the table. Each chair seems to have been prepared for someone in the past, but is now empty.

His eyes moved from the dining table to the center of the hall, where there was a huge mural.

It is the famous "The Last Supper" in reality.

But it doesn't seem to be finished.

There are several figures missing from the picture. Their outlines are vaguely visible, but are only outlined with faint lines, as if the painter stopped halfway and was never able to complete the painting.

The entire hall was filled with an inexplicable sense of oppression, as if it was stuck in an unfinished world, constantly reminding people that some things were not over yet.

Xiao Huai's gaze returned to the dining table again. From a distance, the food on the table seemed gorgeous and exquisite, as if carefully prepared for a grand banquet.

But when he got closer, he suddenly saw those chilling details.

The surface of those delicacies had already rotted, and the meat under the luster gradually took on an unnatural dark color. What was worse was that among the dishes, countless white maggots were wriggling, crawling across the plates, bringing waves of disgusting smell.

Beneath the beautiful appearance lies the truth of corruption and decay.

There was only silence in the hall, so quiet that one could even hear the slight friction of the maggots wriggling.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise coming from upstairs, and then a figure rolled down the stairs, his clothes disheveled and in a miserable state.

The man fell to the ground and shouted in panic: "Don't kill me, don't kill me!" His voice trembled with tears.

Xiao Huai's gaze fell on the young man. He had black hair, brown eyes, and three delicate purple earrings gleaming on his left ear. He looked innocent and fragile, like an immature rebellious teenager.

His face was full of fear, and his eyes were fixed on the stairs, as if he was waiting for some terrible judgment.

Following his gaze, Xiao Huai saw a man in a black suit walking down the stairs.

His expression was stern, his eyes cold as he looked down at the boy lying on the ground with contempt: "Hand over your things. Didn't you steal my things?"

The young man supported himself on the ground with his hands and shook his head in panic: "I didn't, I didn't steal your things!" His tone was full of despair and fear.

Just then, a crisp laugh rang out.

Xiao Huai's gaze shifted towards the direction of the voice. There was a girl with twin ponytails, wearing a black miniskirt and a clown tattoo on her leg. Her smile was filled with chilling malice.

She was playing with a bell in her hand and said lazily, "I saw him steal it. He is a thief."

The man in the suit's eyes darkened, and without the slightest hesitation, he kicked the boy in the ribs. The boy screamed in pain, curled up, and tears welled up in his eyes. Then the man in the suit grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the ground like a dead object. The ground made a teeth-grinding sound of friction. The boy was shaking all over, his voice choked, and he almost cried out: "I said... I said! I hid it!"

The man in the suit paused and looked at the boy sharply: "Where is it hiding?"

The boy trembled, tears streaming down his cheeks. He stretched out his hand weakly and pointed at the long table behind Xiao Huai, his voice filled with fear: "I hid it on the dining table..."

His trembling finger pointed straight at Xiao Huai, and with this point, the eyes of everyone around him turned to him.

The twin-tailed girl showed a devilish smile and tilted her head, as if she had just discovered Xiao Huai's presence: "Hey, there are guests. I thought there was no one here."

Her voice was sweet, yet contained a kind of creepy contempt, as if Xiao Huai was just an insignificant character who had suddenly broken into the game.

Xiao Huai stood there, his expression unchanged.

He didn't steal anything, so why should he feel guilty?

The girl with twin ponytails suddenly jumped to Xiao Huai's side nimbly, her eyes curved with a smile and an inexplicable playfulness.

She stretched out her hand and introduced herself, "I'm Chen Wangya." There was a lightness and playfulness in her tone.

Her hand paused in the air, waiting for Xiao Huai's response.

But soon, she withdrew her hand, raised her head, tilted her head and looked at Xiao Huai, with a hint of curiosity in her voice: "What's your name?"

Then, as if he had thought of something, he narrowed his eyes and said, "Have we met before? You look familiar."

Xiao Huai glanced at her, "Li Ming."

Chen Wangya laughed out loud: "Hey, what a fake pseudonym. Forget it."

It’s just a name, not important. She always felt that Xiao Huai looked very familiar, especially his eyes.

Then she suddenly leaned in closer and looked closely into his eyes: "Why are your eyes red? Are you mixed-blood?"

Xiao Huai raised his hand calmly, keeping a certain distance from her, his voice still understated:

"Colored contact lenses. Haven't you seen them before?"

Colored contact lenses?

Chen Wangya blinked and suddenly laughed out loud, "I thought you guys didn't wear colored contact lenses. They look pretty good. If I go back to reality, I'll definitely ask you for a link."

She obviously didn't delve into it any further, but instead became slightly interested in him.

On the other side, the young man who was being dragged by the man in the suit quietly showed an imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared as if nothing had happened.

The man in the suit gave the boy a cold look and pushed him forward without any hesitation. The boy almost stumbled and fell towards the dining table.

His body slammed heavily against the edge of the table, and the cutlery made a harsh collision sound. The rotten food was also shaken and scattered, and maggots fell out. The scene became more and more disgusting and terrifying.

The young man weakly raised his hand and pointed to a pocket watch on the dinner plate, with a reluctant sneer on his face: "Isn't it right here? Why are you so anxious? It's not like you lost it."

The man in the suit snorted coldly, then let go of the boy, no longer paying attention to his embarrassed appearance, and turned his gaze to the pocket watch on the plate.

He reached out his black-gloved hand and carefully picked up the pocket watch, as if this item was more important than anyone else.

However, his purpose was obviously not the pocket watch itself, but a small stamp hidden in the pocket watch's interlayer.

He skillfully opened his pocket watch and flicked it lightly, revealing the exquisite and ancient stamp.

The stamp has a light yellow luster and its edges are slightly worn, but it still reveals a rare historical texture.

A hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes, and he slowly took out the stamp as if he was holding some precious treasure.

Then he carefully removed the stamp, took out an exquisitely bound stamp album from his pocket, turned to a blank page, and gently inserted the stamp into it.

His movements throughout the process were meticulous and cautious, as if all these ritualistic collecting behaviors could bring him some kind of satisfaction.