I deliver food in a bizarre world

In the latter half of the night, Chen Mo didn't know how he fell asleep.

In the end, exhaustion triumphed over fear, dragging him into a chaotic dream.

In his dream, he ran wildly down that dark, dilapidated stairwell, with the sound of crying chasing after him.

The voice wasn't that of a child; it was a mixture of countless voices.

Sharp, hoarse, sobbing, layer upon layer, like a tide about to engulf him.

The rusty iron gate stretched endlessly before him, and no matter how he ran, he could neither get close nor get far away.

From the crack in the door, countless hands shrouded in black mist reached out, frantically clawing at the air.

He suddenly woke up with a start, sat up, and his heart was pounding.

Sweat soaked through my pajamas, clinging to my skin, and even the blankets were damp.

The air conditioner was set to 26 degrees Celsius for cooling, but it had no effect whatsoever.

At four o'clock in the morning in early September, the sky outside the window was already slightly bright, and the outline of the city appeared blurry and quiet in the morning light.

"It was just a dream..."

He was panting heavily, and subconsciously reached for his personal cell phone on the pillow.

The screen was dark. He hesitated for a moment, then turned it on.

After he clicked on it, the blood-red countdown coldly ticked: 18:32:11.

The description of the new order remains unchanged; it seems he'll have to deduce the new details himself.

Or will it only be fully revealed after the task is accepted?

After getting up and stuffing the air-conditioning blanket into the washing machine, he went to the bathroom for a shower.

He closed his eyes and pondered as he rinsed himself.

"Noodle shop...noodles..."

"What kind of noodles? Beef noodles? Zhajiangmian?"

Chen Mo rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to find clues in those two words.

"A museum... a library, a hotel... or... a funeral home?"

The last word sent a chill down his spine.

He shook his head, trying to dispel these chaotic thoughts.

His stomach started growling; the intense hunger had begun to drive his body to the brink of collapse.

He hasn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, except for the bird's nest soup he had last night.

Moreover, the fright and running also exhausted him.

He dried himself off, changed his clothes, and prepared to go to the kitchen to find something to eat.

As he passed the desk in the bedroom, he habitually glanced at the huge floor-length mirror beside it.

His face was reflected in the mirror; his jawline was sharply defined, his features were handsome, his nose was high and straight, his eyebrows were sharp, and his eyes were deep and bright.

But at this moment, he was pale, looking like he was recovering from a serious illness. His hair was unkempt and messy, like a bird's nest, his eyes were dark-rimmed, and his lips were chapped...

He sighed and was about to look away when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye; it seemed to have moved slightly…

This wasn't his own action!

Chen Mo's hair stood on end instantly, and he was wide awake.

He stared intently at the mirror, simultaneously activating his Spirit Eyes!

In his vision, the world in the mirror seemed to be seen through a thin, gray, water-like film!

His own reflection, however, appeared somewhat blurry at the edges, like a television screen with a poor signal and flickering static.

What chilled him to the bone even more was that the corners of his mouth in the mirror were slowly tugging upwards, forming a tiny arc!

Chen Mo held his breath, not daring to move, staring intently at the mirror.

The man in the mirror was also looking back at him, his eyes vacant...

The room was eerily quiet, with only the sound of his own increasingly loud heartbeat.

After about ten seconds, the eerie feeling slowly disappeared, and the image in the mirror gradually returned to normal.

It was as if everything that had just happened was merely a hallucination caused by his excessive mental stress.

Both my grandfather and maternal grandfather mentioned that mirrors, especially old mirrors, are believed to connect with the spirit world, reflecting not only images of people in the living world.

Mirror……

Chen Mo felt a chill run down his spine; it seemed he would have to be more careful with this thing from now on...

Grandpa and Grandpa on the maternal side have both tinkered with some things at home, so there's no need to worry about them causing any trouble for now.

Just in case, he immediately took out a large black cloth from the cabinet and covered the entire full-length mirror before he felt at ease.

He opened the refrigerator, took out bread, wolfed down a little bit of it, and then gulped down a large glass of milk.

The injury on the tip of my tongue is almost healed, and the pain is not as intense as it was yesterday.

The food slightly eased the emptiness in my stomach, but it couldn't dispel the chill in my heart.

Chen Mo sat on the living room sofa, silently watching the sky outside the window gradually brighten.

Jinghai City is beginning to awaken; the sounds of traffic and birdsong can be heard from afar, and everything is full of vitality.

He felt out of place.

It was as if I had been forcibly ripped from that familiar world and thrown into another dimension filled with shadows and whispers.

That anonymous app was like a key that forcibly opened a door he shouldn't have been near in the first place.

He picked up his phone and looked at the blurry task preview again.

"Noodle shop..."

He muttered to himself as he walked to the study and turned on his computer.

He tried searching the web for places in his local area whose names contained the character "馆" (guan) and which might be related to "面" (mian).

Noodle shops are definitely out of the question; not only are there too many of them, but they also don't quite fit the tone of this app.

Art gallery? Museum?

But what does this have to do with "noodles"?

Does it refer to a mask or a picture?

The library is even less relevant...

Hotels and inns seem to be a better possibility.

However, Jinghai City covers a very large area, and there are at least four or five thousand hotels, if not ten thousand!

He tried typing "local strange legends museum" into the search box, and most of the results were old posts from forums full of oddities, making it hard to tell if they were true or false.

As he was aimlessly searching, the title of a local forum post from seven or eight years ago caught his attention:

[Seeking Help: Does anyone know if the Mirror Hotel is still open?]

Mirror Hotel?

Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat.

Mirror... mirror surface?

He immediately clicked on the post.

The post was very short and was posted five years ago.

The original poster said that when they were on a business trip, they stayed at a small hotel called "Mirror Hotel". The price was very cheap, almost the same as a youth hostel, which was not like being in Jinghai City at all!

However, after checking in, the poster kept hearing strange noises in the room at night.

Furthermore, the original poster felt that someone was constantly watching them in the mirror in the room...

The following replies varied, with some joking that the original poster was overthinking things, while others said they had heard rumors about that hotel and that something had happened there before.

However, no one knows exactly what happened afterward.

At the end of the post, someone mentioned that the hotel seemed to be located in the old western district of the city, but they couldn't remember the exact address and it might have been demolished long ago.

The old district in the west of the city?

Isn't that just a little further west from Huai'an Road?

Chen Mo knew the routes of the surrounding major districts by heart, and upon careful consideration, his breathing immediately became rapid.

He tried searching for the detailed address and current status of the Mirror Hotel.

The information is scarce and disorganized, mostly consisting of scattered mentions from several years ago, with no precise location or confirmation of whether it has been demolished.

The trail seems to have gone cold again...

He scratched his hair in frustration, a sense of powerlessness washing over him.

He slumped on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting bright patches of light on the floor, but he felt no warmth whatsoever…