CHAPTER 614: CHAPTER 341

In the air of the old apartment building, there lingered an indelible musty smell.

The wall paint had peeled off in patches, exposing the dull gray cement beneath.

Various advertisements like "infertility treatment" and "locksmith and plumbing repair" were randomly stuck on walls, resembling a rash plaguing the building.

A lonely incandescent bulb hung near the staircase, casting a dim light.

It flickered occasionally, projecting shadows onto the walls, stretching and distorting them.

Ding—

The elevator stopped on the seventh floor, its old iron gate creaked, struggling to slide open.

The scraping sound echoed in the quiet hallway, piercingly loud.

A woman staggered out of the elevator.

A tight camisole and a pencil skirt accentuated her alluring curves.

The scent of alcohol and cheap perfume mixed into the hallway air.

Clearly, she had just escaped a night of revelry, returning home.

Her exquisitely made-up face was somewhat smudged, still carrying the remnants of intoxication.

Her high heels struck the floor with crisp yet slightly chaotic "tap tap" sounds.

At that moment, she seemed completely unaware.

Just around the corner in the shadows of the hallway.

There were a pair of eyes emerging in the darkness, gazing at her swaying figure.

The woman wobbled as she walked deeper into the corridor, stopping before a door.

Fumblingly, she pulled out a bunch of keys from her handbag.

Their collision produced a tinkling sound.

It seemed she expended much effort to aim the key at the lock and open the door.

Clang!

She quickly stepped inside, the door shutting behind her, isolating everything from the outside world.

In the corner, those eyes still fixated on the direction where the woman disappeared.

Deep within the pupils, there faintly flickered a bizarrely ominous red glow.

As if a beast lurked there, ready to devour its prey.

About half a minute later, a figure silently emerged from the corner.

A wide black raincoat enveloped the figure entirely, with the hood pulled low.

Raindrops, not yet dried, trickled from the edges, forming tiny patches on the dusty floor.

The figure moved down the long corridor, treading as lightly as a feline.

Most of the lights here were broken, with only one or two at a distance still illuminating.

The faint light barely outlined the contours of the tightly shut doors.

Behind them came various sounds of residents’ lives: TV noise, the intermittent cries of a baby.

As the figure passed beneath a functional bulb, the dim glow faintly revealed a white mask on the face.

Hideous, terrifying, resembling an Evil Ghost.

Beneath the mask, Fang Cheng’s eyes were sharp, staring towards the corridor’s end swallowed by darkness.

This apartment building was constructed in the early Republic era, with ten floors, in a spiraling structure.

All facilities exuded an old-fashioned sense of time, not to mention surveillance equipment.

No wonder that the target "Scorpion" would choose to hide here.

The intelligence provided by Chen Chen was only a rough range, lacking a specific room number.

Thus, he could only use the most primitive method of elimination, observing from the opposite rooftop to narrow down the target to a few suspicious residents.

Now, Fang Cheng was standing on the seventh floor, his gaze fixed on the door labeled "709".

Just a dozen minutes ago, he had seen the lights in this room go out.

From every perspective, this place was the most suspicious.

Fang Cheng quietly approached the door, refraining from immediate action.

Instead, he slightly closed his eyes, amplifying his sensory perception.

Invisible ripples expanded outwards, penetrating the thick door, probing into the darkness within.

All surrounding residents’ noises were filtered, leaving only the sounds generated inside this room.

Yet.

Inside was a deathly silence, with not even the faintest breath or heartbeat detectable.

Suddenly, a thread of abnormal scent, like an invisible hook, caught Fang Cheng’s sense of smell.

It mingled with the inherent mustiness of the corridor, subtle, faint, yet pungent.

Like the stench emitted from excessively sun-dried salt fish by the sea.

Such a scent might be difficult for ordinary people to detect or discern.

But Fang Cheng could clearly perceive it.

This was certainly not the condition of a normal resident.

Fang Cheng’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, then he reached out, gently pushing the door.

The door remained unmoved, tightly locked.

Fang Cheng glanced down at the old lock, without the slightest hesitation.

Immediately, he reached inside his raincoat, retrieving a cross-shaped screwdriver.

Then, he steadily aligned the screwdriver’s tapered edge with the lock hole, slowly inserting it.

One hand tightly grasped the cold door handle to steady the door panel, while the other gripped the screwdriver’s handle firmly.

His ears keenly captured the roar of a car swiftly passing on the street outside.

Now!

Fang Cheng’s wrist suddenly exerted force, thrusting the screwdriver inward, using brute force to collide with the lock pin.

Crack!

A sharply suppressed cracking sound emanated from the lock’s core.

Perfectly masked by the roar from the street.

Fang Cheng gripped the screwdriver’s handle, then his wrist calmly twisted.

All the lock pins were violently dislodged from their positions, and the obstruction vanished instantly.

The lock yielded, obediently rotating open.

Squeak—

The door gently swung open, revealing the scene inside.

Fang Cheng stepped inside directly, without deliberately lowering his footsteps.

If the resident inside was truly the target "Scorpion".

Then with the extraordinary vigilance recorded in the intelligence, even the slightest sound of unlocking should have been enough to wake them from sleep and prepare for confrontation.