Among Mandarin, Cantonese, Korean, and Japanese, the pronunciation of the number 4 is similar to that of "death", so it is often regarded as an inauspicious number. For example, some buildings skip the 4th and 14th floors. In Hong Kong, there is no ferry named No. 4, and in Taiwan, there are no license plates with a single - digit 4. When choosing a mobile phone number, we usually avoid numbers ending with 4.
I didn't believe in such superstitious things before, but that night, looking at the house number above my head, I fell into deep thought.
"Room 444."
The address on the small advertisement was completely correct. I couldn't even believe that such a place actually existed in Jiangcheng.
"Should I go in?"
It was like reaching the last level of a game, and my mood was very complicated now.
The dark corridor seemed endless. Underfoot, I would occasionally step on cracked, rotten wood and the corpses of insects. What concerned me more was that this was the fourth basement floor. My mobile phone blacked out for no reason, and my only weapon, a German - imported 8 - kilovolt anti - wolf stun gun, also stopped working. I had lost all protection and had to face whatever was about to happen empty - handed.
The gloomy and terrifying environment, combined with the old granny's acrostic poem before, made me extremely nervous. The more I thought about it, the more scared I became.
"If all this is just a prank or an alternative variety show, then the person behind it has gone to a lot of trouble. Moreover, I've been very careful, but I haven't found any cameras or obvious signs of human interference. This doesn't seem like a joke."
With my hand on the doorknob, I fantasized that when I opened the door, there would be a dozen cameras recording me, and a well - dressed host would give me a warm hug, shouting into the microphone, "Congratulations, Mr. Gao, for passing the test! Here is one million yuan in bonus for you..."
Daydreaming was pleasant, but reality was always sad.
"Creak". Accompanied by the harsh sound of the door opening and flying dust, I entered the room.
"Is there anyone here?"
The dim light swayed overhead. The carpet gave off a musty smell. Rotten tables and chairs were piled in the middle of the room. On the innermost wall, four large, crooked characters were written - "Netherworld Show".
There were no flashing lights or cameras as I had imagined, nor were there any wronged ghosts with blood - stained faces and severed heads.
Neither the best - case scenario nor the worst - case scenario occurred. Behind the door was just an abandoned warehouse.
"I can't let my guard down. Since the address provided by Xia Qingzhi is true, this is likely the first scene of her brother's murder. That is to say, I'm now in a room where a homicide has taken place."
I gently closed the door. The light bulb above, which flickered on and off, gave off a long - lost glow, and I felt a bit more at ease.
"Is there anyone here?" The light was clearly on, but the furnishings in the room gave the illusion that it had been abandoned for a long time.
I stepped onto the tattered and damp carpet. It felt very strange, as if I was stepping on hair that had solidified with blood.
The floor groaned underfoot, and from the occasional holes, one or two unknown insect corpses could be seen.
All kinds of thrilling words were carved on the tables and chairs in the middle of the room, and in some places, long scratches were made by fingernails, as if the people who had once sat there had suffered extreme torture and pain.
Walking to the innermost part, the four characters "Netherworld Show" were painted on the wall with blood - red paint. At first, it seemed nothing special, but the longer I looked at it, the more I felt that there was a kind of ferocity and eeriness in the characters.
"Ordinary paint or varnish will fall off in chunks and darken over time, turning from red to brown. These seem to be the characteristics of blood..."
There was also a small door by the inner wall. Since I found nothing outside, out of curiosity, I pushed it open.
"Shh..." The temperature in the room dropped sharply. I took a deep breath of cold air and froze at the doorway.
In the not - too - large room, there was a two - meter - long black offering table. On the other side of the table, three people were sitting side by side!
They were dressed in formal attire, similar to the radio hosts I had imagined before. The only thing that made me feel uncomfortable was that all three of them were wearing paper - man masks. At first glance, they looked like three paper - crafted dolls.
"Are you here for an interview?" The person in the middle raised his head jerkily, like a machine. His voice was hoarse and deep, as if opening a rusty tin can.
"Yes, that's right. I'm here for an interview." I couldn't figure out the background of these three people. They might be the murderers of Xia Qingzhi's brother. I had to stay calm in front of such cold - blooded killers.
"I accidentally saw your company's advertisement and was very interested in your Netherworld Show. In the Internet age, I firmly believe that only innovation and uniqueness can lead to success, so I want to join you." I adapted quickly to the situation, taking advantage of the opportunity. To enhance my persuasiveness, I also placed the crumpled small card on the black offering table.
"Interested?" The three of them looked at each other. I wasn't sure if it was my illusion, but the paper - man masks on their faces seemed to show a terrifying smile.
"It's a stroke of luck that you managed to find this place. But the host of the Netherworld Show isn't something that a living person can do." The masked man crossed his hands under his chin. "May I ask you a few questions?"
"Sure, of course." I remained calm - faced. A few years ago, after being expelled from the police academy, I had run around to the HR departments of major companies in Jiangcheng with a forged resume. I had already summed up my experience in dealing with interviewers. I had also found template answers to the questions they often asked on the Internet.
With an air of mystery and confidence, I nodded with a smile. "Go ahead."
"Name."
"Gao Jian."
"Do you have any relevant work experience? For example, have you ever live - streamed on other platforms?"
"Sorry, I don't have such experience. But I have strong communication and adaptability skills. My personality is very suitable for being a host." Being realistic, I admitted my shortcomings while emphasizing my advantages. This was one of the interview skills.
"Well said. But the host of the Netherworld Show is different from hosts on other platforms. We not only need to communicate with the audience, but more importantly, we need to protect ourselves and stay alive..."
"Stay alive..." When the interviewer said this, I realized that things were starting to get out of my control.
"That's right. It's simple, just stay alive." The person in the middle stroked the mask on his face, making the paper - man show a strange expression. "There are countless legends hidden in our city: the thirteen steps in the deserted village and abandoned school, the last bus that picks up the dead, the floating human face in the early - morning surveillance, and the little girl in red who keeps lingering at the door... There are so many similar legends. Are they all fictional?"
"Probably..." If it was before I came here, I would have said without hesitation: Yes, they are all made up.
"Wait a minute. Do you mean that the hosts of the Netherworld Show have to go to those places every day to explore the supernatural and find materials?!"
"You're quick on the uptake. I'm starting to appreciate you." The giggling laughter didn't seem like it could be made by a human. "Operating in the midnight shadows, facing the most terrifying horror in this city. Don't you think it's exciting?"
"Live - streaming the scenes in ghost stories. That's quite novel and might meet the psychological needs of a large number of people." I responded to the three of them perfunctorily. In fact, I was already having second thoughts.
To be fair, I don't dislike watching thrilling and supernatural movies, but it's a completely different matter if I have to be the protagonist in a thriller myself.
Just imagining having to lift coffin lids, pry open the doors of haunted houses at night, and possibly be chased by a bunch of ghosts and spirits made me feel uncomfortable all over.
"Ghost stories? No, no. It seems you still don't understand." The masked man supported his chin with both hands. His gaze, hidden behind the paper - man mask, seemed to see through me like a sharp sword. "The truth is always scarier than a story. I guarantee that the deepest despair you've ever experienced will start from the moment you know the truth."
"What do you mean?"
"The answer lies in this city. You will be a witness to another world and see the real horror." There was no hint of joking in the masked man's words. His tone was dull and depressing.
"This doesn't seem like a performance..." I was now 90% sure that the Netherworld Show wasn't a prank or a variety show. It seemed that I had gotten myself into a big mess.
I leaned back, and the thought of leaving crossed my mind.
But the masked man seemed to have anticipated my thoughts. Without any visible movement from him, the door behind me creaked and slowly closed on its own. "Don't be nervous. Your interview has just begun."