Beyond the door was not the office Lin Yan had expected.
There was nothing.
No floor, no ceiling, no walls.
Only an endless expanse of swirling gray mist.
Within the fog, countless shattered images flickered in and out of existence—patients sobbing in despair, doctors grinning viciously, scalpels flashing through the air, blood spraying in crimson arcs. It was as though every agonizing memory this hospital had ever borne had been torn apart and gathered here.
And at the heart of that endless void floated an enormous cocoon, woven from countless strands of black thread.
Through the tangled layers, Lin Yan could just make out a human silhouette curled tightly within, like a fetus in a womb.
Thump… thump…
A deep, powerful heartbeat came from inside the cocoon.
Each beat pounded against Lin Yan’s eardrums like the strike of a war drum, sending tremors through the entire void.
This might just be the director’s true form.
Lin Yan stood in the doorway, the gray mist beneath his feet seeming to solidify into something tangible, holding him aloft. He tightened his grip on the short staff. The dark red markings running along its surface gave off a faint glow, as though stirred by excitement or perhaps sensing danger.
“You finally made it.”
A calm voice rang out, but it didn’t come from the cocoon. Instead, it came from all directions, as though the very space around him had spoken.
The gray mist churned before him, gathering and condensing until it took on a human form.
It was the same immaculate white coat, the same face concealed behind a surgical mask.
But this time, the director’s eyes were no longer cold and indifferent. In their place was something almost like… admiration?
“I’ve been watching you for quite some time, Lin Yan,” the director remarked, his voice carrying the easy familiarity of an old friend. “Ever since you first set foot in this hospital, you’ve continued to surprise me. Calm, rational, resourceful… especially that crafting ability of yours. It’s a fascinating power.”
Lin Yan stared at him coldly without answering. His mind raced, searching for an opening to strike, a weakness he could exploit.
“Do you know something?” The director spread his arms wide, as though embracing the endless void around them. “This is the real world. That hospital out there was nothing more than a stage I built to gather the materials I needed. But this place…”
His gaze swept across the swirling gray expanse. “This is my divine realm, woven from the fear, suffering, and souls of countless patients!”
Fervor crept into his voice, growing more intense with every word. “Here, I am God! I make the rules, and I can destroy anything I please!”
“God?” Lin Yan finally spoke, his voice edged with mockery. “You’re a parasite hiding in mirrors, devouring other people’s lives just to keep yourself alive. And you think that makes you a god?”
The director’s expression darkened instantly. The gray mist around them erupted into violent waves, roiling as though the entire void itself had been enraged.
“Arrogant fool!” the director snapped. “You think devouring a mere wisp of mirror-born malice gives you the right to defy me? Here, your power is insignificant!”
He flung out a hand.
Boom!
The gray mist around him twisted into countless grotesque, ghostly hands. With bloodcurdling shrieks, they surged toward Lin Yan from every direction!
“Then let’s see what you’ve got!”
A cold gleam flashed through Lin Yan’s eyes. Instead of retreating, he charged straight into the oncoming tide of ghostly hands!
The short staff in his grip became a blur, its dark red markings suddenly blazing with searing light.
[Mirror Reflection has been activated!]
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The ghostly hands slammed into the staff with a series of muffled booms. The staff absorbed part of the force, converted it, and hurled it right back!
The surrounding hands burst apart as though shredded by invisible blades, disintegrating into wisps of black smoke.
But there were simply too many.
More poured endlessly from the mist, wave after wave.
Caught in their relentless assault, Lin Yan was like a tiny boat caught in a raging storm, struggling to stay afloat.
Squelch!
A ghostly hand punched straight through his shoulder in a spray of blood.
Lin Yan grunted, his movements faltering for a split second.
That was all the opening they needed.
“It’s over.” The director watched coldly as Lin Yan disappeared beneath the mass of ghostly hands. A flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes. “So this is all you’re capable of. What a waste of such a fine body…”
But before he could finish, the unexpected happened.
Boom!
A devastating burst of mental energy erupted from the heart of the swarm!
The ghostly hands clutching Lin Yan melted away like ice cast into a roaring furnace, vanishing almost instantly.
Lin Yan emerged once more.
He was drenched in blood, yet he stood perfectly straight.
Silver light blazed in his eyes—the unmistakable sign that his Mirror Affinity had been pushed to its absolute limit.
Floating above his head was a diary, bathed in a soft white glow.
Su Wan’s diary!
Brilliant white light burst from its pages.
Wherever the light swept, the gray mist recoiled as though it had encountered its natural enemy, sizzling as it rapidly dispersed.
Then a translucent figure in a nurse’s uniform slowly materialized beside Lin Yan.
It was Su Wan.
But this was no longer the broken-necked ghost he had encountered before.
She looked as she had in life once more, her features delicate, her eyes clear and unwavering. Pure white light radiated from her ethereal form, a stark contrast to the sinister gray mist churning around them.
“Director.” Su Wan stared at the man before her, a storm of emotions in her eyes—hatred, sorrow, but above all, unwavering resolve. “It’s time you answered for what you’ve done.”
“Su Wan…” The director’s expression finally changed. For the first time, his face grew grave, and there was even a flicker of wariness in his eyes. “To think you managed to preserve a spirit form this pure. It seems I was too careless back then and failed to erase your consciousness completely.”
“It’s because someone’s still waiting for me, and the truth still needs to come to light,” Su Wan answered softly.
She turned to Lin Yan and gave him a gentle smile. “Thank you, Lin Yan. Leave the rest to me.”
She reached out and cradled the diary in both hands.
Without so much as a breath of wind, the diary sprang open.
Its pages began flipping wildly.
Countless glowing words streamed from between the pages, blazing white as they swept into the air. They converged overhead, forming a massive cross forged entirely from radiant light!
Su Wan seized the cross with both hands and drove it straight at the director!
“NO!”
The director roared in terror. Gray mist surged around him in a frenzy, condensing into a thick shield before him.
BOOM!
Light and darkness.
Good and evil.
The two utterly opposing forces collided with an earth-shattering crash!
Blinding white light erupted outward, swallowing everything in an instant.
Lin Yan instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. Yet he could still feel a warm, pure energy enveloping his body, seeping into his wounds and slowly knitting them closed.
He had no idea how much time had passed before the blinding light finally began to fade.
Lin Yan opened his eyes and stared at the sight before him in stunned silence.
The endless gray fog was gone. In its place stretched a pristine white expanse suffused with a faint, ethereal glow.
The director’s figure had faded to little more than a shadow, as though he might disappear at any moment. His white coat hung in tatters, and his mask was gone. Beneath it was a completely featureless face, smooth and reflective as a mirror.
“So this is what you really look like?” Lin Yan scoffed.
“Heh… hehe…” A hoarse laugh rasped from the director, thick with resentment and venom. “You… destroyed everything I spent centuries building… But do you really think… this is over?”
“As long as the ‘heart’ still exists… I can’t die! I’ll be reborn in the real world… and when I am… I’ll turn every last one of you… into part of my collection!”
“No! He’s trying to merge with the heart!” Su Wan cried out.
Her figure had grown considerably more transparent as well. That last attack had clearly taken an enormous toll on her.
Lin Yan’s gaze sharpened as he turned toward the enormous black cocoon.
As though responding to the director’s call, the heartbeat within the black cocoon suddenly quickened, each thud louder and more powerful than the last. Something terrifying seemed to be stirring within, on the verge of tearing its way out.
“I won’t let you!”
Lin Yan didn’t hesitate. He pushed off hard and shot toward the cocoon like an arrow.
“Stop him!” the last remnants of the director’s consciousness roared.
Countless black threads burst from the surface of the cocoon like writhing tentacles, surging toward Lin Yan from every direction.
“Get out of my way!”
Lin Yan roared as the short staff in his hand erupted with a brilliance unlike anything before. Mirror Reflection kicked in at full force!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The black tendrils slammed into the staff. Part of the impact rebounded, blasting several of them apart.
But there were far too many.
More tendrils surged through the gaps, coiling around Lin Yan’s arms and legs before winding tightly around his torso, binding him in place.
“Argh!”
The tendrils tightened with crushing force. Lin Yan’s bones creaked under the pressure, his chest constricting until he could barely breathe.
“Lin Yan!”
Su Wan wanted to help, but her body had faded until she was almost completely transparent. All she could do was shout desperately, “The mirror! Use the mirror! The heart’s reflection in the real world is its weakness!”
The mirror? The reflection in the real world?
Something clicked in Lin Yan’s mind.
He remembered the man submerged in formalin back in the specimen room. The man’s heart was the director’s core, and he was connected to this place through a mirror.
Which meant the heart in the mirror world and the heart in the real world were two sides of the same coin.
If he damaged the heart here, the one in the real world would be damaged too!
But how was he supposed to attack it?
Lin Yan stared at the black cocoon mere inches away. The tendrils binding him tightened by the second, their crushing grip bearing down on him.
A reckless idea flashed through his mind.
If attacking it from the outside didn’t work… then he’d attack it from within.
“Su Wan! Get me inside!” Lin Yan yelled.
“What? No!” Su Wan cried. “That’s where his consciousness is rooted! If you go in there, it’ll swallow your mind completely!”
“We’re out of time! Trust me!” There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in Lin Yan’s eyes.
Su Wan stared at him, at the unwavering resolve and confidence in his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it was as though she were looking at herself all those years ago.
She gritted her teeth, then nodded. “Alright! I’ll get you in!”
She burned through the last remnants of her strength. Her nearly transparent body dissolved into a brilliant streak of white light and slammed straight into the black tendrils wrapped around Lin Yan.
Boom!
The tendrils snapped apart.
The crushing pressure around Lin Yan vanished.
He seized the opening, letting the force of the impact propel him forward. His body shot toward the enormous black cocoon like a cannonball.
“NOOOO!”
The director’s howl of despair tore through the air.
Squelch!
Lin Yan smashed through the surface of the black cocoon and plunged inside.