Scarlet Descent

“You?”

Looking at this enthusiastic little intern, Wei Wei was somewhat surprised.

He couldn’t help but recall the three taboos Uncle Gun had told him during yesterday’s meal.

Was it inappropriate to violate a senior’s advice on his first day of work?

Seeing Wei Wei’s hesitation, Ye Feifei blinked in confusion and whispered, “Is it inconvenient?”

“No…”

Wei Wei thought for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

Ye Feifei immediately brightened, sprinting back to her room to grab her jacket. Piggy, who had picked up his bowl nearby, froze when he heard Wei Wei agree. He wanted to say something but held back, silently giving Wei Wei a look of sympathy.

After confirming the address, Wei Wei took Ye Feifei into his Jeep and sped off.

On the way, he debated whether to continue their earlier conversation. He felt conflicted:

On one hand, he didn’t want to repeatedly revisit the past and reopen old wounds.

On the other, whenever he met someone who might know about the case, he couldn’t resist probing for clues.

Though he knew the files he’d seen in the training camp were likely the most comprehensive.

However, Wei Wei soon realized he was overthinking. The chatty little intern from the dining table now seemed like a different person in the car, nervously glancing around and clasping her hands as if praying.

Curious, Wei Wei asked, “What are you doing?”

After repeating the question, Ye Feifei finally answered earnestly, “Praying we don’t get a flat tire.”

“?”

Wei Wei was baffled.

Ye Feifei blushed slightly, pressing a hand to her abdomen. “I’m… having ‘those days’ right now.”

“This…”

Wei Wei’s confusion deepened, but he quietly slowed the vehicle.

He kindly advised, “Drink more hot water.”

Still, he couldn’t grasp the connection between her cycle and car troubles.

Ten minutes later, the Jeep’s tires splashed through pothole-ridden, neglected roads, spraying filthy water.

They arrived at a northern district of Scrap Iron City—a cluster of dilapidated, low-rise apartments. Tangled power lines and overturned trash bins choked the narrow streets, while food carts peddled earthly comforts.

They quickly located their destination: a crowded residential compound gate packed with onlookers clutching grocery bags, some even perched on walls. Police officers at the entrance jabbed poles to shoo climbers down.

Amid the chaos, a woman’s wails and a man’s roars echoed from within.

“No manners at all…”

Wei Wei muttered, eyeing the haphazardly parked cars. He wedged the Jeep into a spot and stepped out.

Pushing through the crowd with Ye Feifei, he wondered how to identify themselves to the guards.

Full-fledged team members carried covert credentials stamped with the Guard Bureau seal for accessing secured areas. But as a probationary member, Wei Wei lacked these.

Ye Feifei was worse off—her “Environmental Protection Bureau” ID was a fake Captain Ouyang had bought from a street vendor to boost her sense of belonging.

Yet no explanation was needed. As they squeezed past vegetable-toting elders and tardy schoolkids, they spotted Uncle Gun smoking inside the compound. He grinned and waved them over.

The guards lifted the barricade without question, even studying Wei Wei’s face for future reference.

“What happened?”

Approaching Uncle Gun, Wei Wei surveyed the disorder.

Supernatural incidents typically required immediate crowd dispersal. This noisy, tear-streaked scene felt unusual.

“Still unclear.”

Uncle Gun flicked cigarette ash, eyeing Ye Feifei curiously. “For now, it’s a mental breakdown case.”

“This complex had recurring pet disappearances—cats, dogs, rabbits, parrots—but they were too minor to notice. Yesterday, a young couple reported their missing two-year-old.”

“Normally, missing persons aren’t our concern. But when guards investigated, they found no child—instead, a house in Building B stuffed with dead animals. All the missing pets, nailed to walls…”

“People linked it to the missing kid, sparking panic.”

“...”

Wei Wei frowned. “Supernatural involvement?”

“Unconfirmed.”

Uncle Gun shook his head. “The captain’s upstairs checking. Go see for yourself. I need air.”

“Right.”

Wei Wei headed toward a shabby apartment block, Ye Feifei trailing.

Uncle Gun stopped her. “You’re going too?”

“What’s wrong?”

Ye Feifei glared—why could Wei Wei go but not her?

“Haha, nothing. Go ahead!”

Uncle Gun smirked around his cigarette.

As they neared the building, a mother’s anguished cries pierced the air: “My baby’s only two! How could you hurt him?!”

A gray-suited man lunged at officers: “Arrest that bastard! Why aren’t you arresting him?!”

“...”

Wei Wei sidestepped the hysterical family into the dimly lit apartment.

Whether psychological or not, a dank chill gripped him. Stale air reeked of rot.

Steeling himself, Wei Wei entered through the open door.

The living room was unnervingly tidy—spotless floors, orderly furnishings.

But at the bedroom entrance, the sight punched their senses.

Putrid stench assaulted their nostrils.

Heavy curtains darkened the room, but Wei Wei discerned the walls’ grotesque decor:

Dozens of crude specimens—parrots, cats, a border collie, red-eyed rabbits—nailed to wooden frames. Rough iron spikes pierced their bodies, the frames hung in precise rows.

Claw marks and blood trails showed the animals had been alive when mounted, struggling until death.

Dried blood streaked the frames like crimson ribbons.

Glassy eyes stared emptily at the inverted world.

“Guh—”

Ye Feifei clapped a hand over her mouth, retching.

Wei Wei steadied his breath and stepped inside.

Captain Ouyang crouched by the specimen-crowded bed, scribbling notes.

Focused men are so handsome… Wei Wei mused.

He cleared his throat softly. “Captain, we’re here.”

“Hm? Oh!”

Captain Ouyang sprang up, shoving a lottery ticket scribbled with symbols into his coat. Smoothing his hair, he regained his authoritative demeanor.

The glimpsed lottery marks left Wei Wei stunned.

The captain’s truly something—studying lotteries in this nightmare…