Chapter 5: The Bloodstained Guard

The second floor was even darker than the third. The sharp scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, tainted by the faint, metallic smell of blood.

Lin Yan tightened his grip on the short staff. The rough rubber wrapping around the handle felt cold against his palm, while the white button attached to the pommel swayed gently with each step, radiating a faint warmth that eased the oppressive chill around him.

Keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible, Lin Yan hugged the wall as he edged toward the eastern end of the corridor.

According to Xiao Zhe, the nurses’ station was all the way down at the far end.

Most of the hospital room doors lining the corridor were shut, their faded numbers barely legible. Every now and then, one stood open, revealing nothing but impenetrable darkness, as if each doorway were the gaping maw of a beast lying in wait.

Lin Yan had no intention of wandering inside to investigate. Right now, his only objective was the nurse’s diary.

Drip… drip…

Somewhere nearby, liquid fell in slow, steady drops. The sound echoed through the silent corridor, each drip unnaturally distinct.

Every nerve in Lin Yan’s body was stretched taut. He had no idea whether the rampaging headless nurse had followed him downstairs, but what worried him even more was the security guard stationed at the nurses’ station.

If even Xiao Zhe, a ghost himself, found the security guard terrifying, then he had to be far more than an ordinary monster.

As he made his way down the corridor, Lin Yan scanned his surroundings for anything that might prove useful—materials or clues.

When he passed a room marked “Dispensary,” he came to a stop.

The door stood slightly ajar, and a sharp medicinal odor drifted out from inside. Peering through the narrow gap, he took a cautious look.

The room was in complete disarray. Shelves had collapsed, spilling multicolored pills and shattered glass ampoules across the floor. In the middle of the room, a chalk outline of a human body had been drawn on the tiles, its edges stained a dark brown.

Resting where the figure’s head should have been was a single notebook.

It had a brown leather cover, heavily worn around the edges.

“A diary?” Lin Yan’s gaze sharpened.

Can the nurse’s diary really be this easy to find? Or is it bait?

He hesitated, choosing not to step inside just yet. At that very moment, one of the hospital rules flashed through his mind: “Meals are delivered three times a day by the hospital aides. Make sure your food appears normal…”

Did the medicine in the dispensary count as “food” under the rules? If he accidentally touched any of it, would he trigger a punishment?

And that chalk outline unsettled him. It felt as though something beneath the floor was staring up at him through it.

I’ll check the nurses’ station first. If it’s not there, I’ll come back and take the risk.

With his mind made up, Lin Yan continued down the corridor.

About twenty meters later, a semicircular reception desk came into view at the end of the corridor. Behind it stood a row of filing cabinets crammed with yellowed folders. An old analog clock hung on the wall beside the desk, its hands frozen at 3:14 a.m.

This was the nurses’ station.

And someone was already standing in front of it.

The figure was tall, clad in a dark blue security uniform mottled with grime and old stains. A peaked cap sat low over its brow, the brim obscuring most of its face. It stood ramrod straight, arms hanging loosely at its sides, utterly motionless, more like a statue than a living person.

Yet Lin Yan could feel it.

A crushing pressure reeking of blood rolled off the figure, blanketing the entire nurses’ station.

This was the security guard.

Lin Yan halted in his tracks and slipped into the shadows at the corner, carefully studying the corridor ahead.

The security guard didn’t seem to have noticed him. It remained rooted in place, as motionless as before.

The nurses’ station stretched nearly fifteen feet from end to end. Lin Yan’s gaze slid past the guard toward the far left end of the counter. The drawer he needed was shut tight, secured with an old-fashioned warded lock.

Where’s the key?

His eyes swept over the guard.

A heavy ring of keys hung from its belt, swaying almost imperceptibly with each shallow breath and producing the faintest metallic clink.

The key was on the guard.

That complicated things. If he wanted the diary, he’d have to lure the guard away… or get rid of it.

His grip tightened around the short staff as his mind raced through one possibility after another.

A direct fight was out of the question. This guard was even more dangerous than the doctor monster he’d encountered earlier. It exuded nothing but pure, savage killing intent.

He’d have to outsmart it.

His gaze dropped to the staff in his hand before sweeping across the corridor.

Beside the nurses’ station was a hot water room ¹ 开水间 (kāi shuǐ jiān): A small room commonly found in Chinese hospitals where patients, visitors, and staff can access boiling water. It’s typically equipped with hot water dispensers or kettles, and people often use it to fill thermoses, brew tea, or prepare instant food. with its door standing open. Several insulated flasks sat inside. Farther down the corridor, a green Exit sign hung from the ceiling. One corner had come loose, exposing a length of wiring that occasionally spat tiny blue-white sparks.

A plan slowly began to take shape.

He needed to create a distraction—something that would draw the guard’s attention just long enough for him to snatch the keys, unlock the drawer, and retrieve the diary.

But every step would have to be executed with split-second precision. One mistake would be fatal.

Lin Yan took a slow, steadying breath and pulled the brass key engraved with the number “7” from his pocket—the one he’d found in Ward 304.

It wasn’t meant to unlock anything, but rather to make noise.

He zeroed in on the wall across from the hot water room, where a Quiet Please sign hung.

Whoosh!

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sent the brass key flying. It arced cleanly through the air and struck the sign squarely.

Clang!

The crisp metallic ring shattered the silence of the corridor.

It was as though someone had pressed pause, then immediately hit play.

The security guard, who had stood motionless like a statue until now, snapped its head toward the sound. Beneath the brim of its cap was a nightmare made flesh. Its eyes had no eyelids, only two hollow black sockets. A grotesque grin stretched from ear to ear, exposing rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth.

“Found… you…”

The guard let out a hoarse growl.

Then, with impossible speed for something so massive, it exploded into motion, leaving a blue afterimage in its wake as it lunged toward the direction of the hot water room.

Now!

Lin Yan shot out of the shadows like a striking leopard, sprinting straight for the leftmost drawer of the nurses’ station.

He moved with unbelievable speed. Barely a heartbeat after the guard lunged away, he was already vaulting over the counter.

Just as his hand reached for the drawer, a blast of foul air slammed into him from the side.

ROAR!

The guard, which had seemingly charged toward the hot water room, twisted in midair. Its enormous body pivoted in a way that completely defied physics, reversing course in an instant. A claw encased in black, armor-like keratin slashed toward Lin Yan’s head. Its blade-like talons shrieked through the air.

It had outplayed him. The monster was far more intelligent than he’d expected.

That charge hadn’t been a mistake. It had been bait.

Its real target had always been Lin Yan hiding in the shadows.

Death closed in.

There was no dodging it!

The attack was too fast, too close!

In that split second, his pupils contracted to pinpoints, but he didn’t retreat. Retreating would only get him killed faster. Instead, he gambled everything on a move that bordered on madness.

Rather than stepping back, he drove his left foot forward, dropped his weight, and gripped the short staff with both hands. The end fitted with the improvised surgical forceps whipped upward with explosive force.

Instead of blocking the attack, he counterattacked in order to force the enemy to defend itself.

With his full weight behind it, he thrust the short staff straight at the guard’s wrist—the very limb reaching for his head.

Thunk!

The sharpened surgical forceps drove into the black keratin covering the monster’s wrist.

Empowered by Pierce the Veil, the metal flashed with a faint glimmer for the briefest instant, glowing like a branding iron as it sank into the monster’s flesh.

RAAAARGH!

The guard let out a howl of agony. Its claw faltered for the first time, and black, foul-smelling blood sprayed from the wound.

At the same time, a tremendous recoil surged through Lin Yan’s arm.

The impact ripped the skin between his thumb and forefinger open, sending blood streaming down his hand. It felt as though a speeding truck had slammed into him. His entire body was hurled backward, crashing hard onto the reception counter.

Crack!

The wooden countertop caved in beneath the impact.

A metallic taste flooded his mouth, and he coughed up a spray of blood.

Ignoring the pain, he used the force of the impact to his advantage. He rolled across the counter, swung himself over it, and landed behind the reception desk.

Bang!

The guard’s claws tore through the spot where he’d been a heartbeat earlier. The solid hardwood counter split apart as though it were made of paper, sending splinters flying.

“Cough…” Half-kneeling on the floor, Lin Yan doubled over in a violent coughing fit, his hand trembling around the staff.

That exchange had wounded the guard, but it had cost Lin Yan dearly. If the staff’s passive effect, Innocent Guardian, hadn’t activated at the last possible second and formed a thin protective barrier that absorbed part of the impact, his arm would’ve been completely shattered.

So this…  is the terror of the Infinite World? Even with my unique talent, I’m still frighteningly fragile in the face of overwhelming strength and speed.

The guard slowly turned.

Its empty, pitch-black eye sockets locked onto Lin Yan behind the counter, radiating nothing but murderous rage. It yanked the broken tip of the staff from its wrist and tossed it aside without a second glance.

Black mist writhed around the wound.

Before Lin Yan’s eyes, the gash began knitting itself back together.

“Rule Breaker… die!”

With a guttural roar, the guard charged again.

Lin Yan’s expression changed. He tried to move, but the blow he’d just taken had left his insides reeling, making him a split second too slow.

As the claws slashed toward him once more, his gaze hardened. Running wasn’t an option anymore. Instead, he lunged toward the row of filing cabinets beside him, braced himself, and shoved with every ounce of strength he had left.

CRASH!

The towering metal cabinets lurched violently. With a deafening crash, they toppled straight toward the charging guard.

Hundreds of file folders burst free, fluttering through the air like a blizzard of paper.

The guard clearly hadn’t expected the move. Taken completely by surprise, it disappeared beneath the collapsing cabinets as they crashed down on top of it.