"Room 102 is my home... I've forgotten so much, but I still remember there's something important to me in Room 102. Let me in... let me in!" The Canker Spirit Louis rasped, desperately gnawing at the apartment wall. His bloated body was wedged in the opening, thrashing in vain. His words were slurred, but the pleading and defiance in his voice were unmistakable.
Holmes frowned, deep in thought. The source of the grudge clearly lay in Room 102. Brute force wouldn't drive this specter away—what if he helped Louis find the root of his grudge instead? It was worth a try, at least better than attacking head-on.
He turned to the players cowering in the fog. "Who's willing to help?"
"Help with what? Jack couldn't kill that specter, let alone us!"
"Any stimulation makes it destroy the wall faster. There's no way!"
Holmes shook his head. "Help him enter the apartment. He's stuck—we need to widen the hole."
The group stood stunned. We're here to exterminate rats, and he wants to help the specter invade? Even the bandaged specter monitoring them stared at Holmes in disbelief.
"I know it's reckless, but it's the only way to complete the mission." Time was running out, but no one moved—they thought he was mad.
Sighing, Holmes drew his spectral hammer and approached the wall, beginning to chisel beside Louis. Surprisingly, the mutated rats around the Canker Spirit parted when they saw his actions.
DING! Player has incurred the wrath of 12 spectral residents for damaging the dungeon map through improper actions.
Holmes ignored the warning. He already had no favor with them—what did a little more malice matter?
With each swing of the hammer, blood oozed from the wall, making Holmes' eyelids twitch. This apartment hides dark secrets. These bleeding walls might be tied to the main quest.
"He's really lost it. Is he trying to die faster?" The players behind him broke into cold sweats.
Even the bandaged specter couldn't watch anymore. "You're playing with fire."
"I have my way to expel it," Holmes retorted. "I can do as I please until the mission ends. Punish me if I fail."
The specter didn't stop him—Holmes was right. But it sneered, "Damaging the apartment, angering specters, harming the landlord's interests... I can't imagine how horrific your punishment will be."
"That's a problem for later. Don't disturb me now." Holmes' reply made the bandaged specter snort in anger.
With a thunderous crash, a section of the wall collapsed, dripping sticky blood instead of dust. The hole widened, allowing Louis to slither into the apartment easily, spilling filth into the first-floor corridor. The stench permeated every room.
"He's really inside..." Holmes followed, immediately hearing a storm of curses from spectral residents:
"Get out!"
"Who let this filth into the apartment?"
"Disgusting! Whose brat is this? Damaging the wall and bringing rats inside!"
"He's from Room 404, the drunkard's kid! Like father, like son!"
DING! 25 spectral residents have turned hostile toward the player for aiding an expelled specter's illegal entry. 7 of them have reached 75% malice—expect retaliation after the mission.
"The trouble's getting bigger! Is there any way to fix this?" Holmes took a deep breath, sweating profusely from the insults echoing in the corridor.
On the sixth floor, the landlord puffed his pipe, aware of the chaos below but choosing not to intervene. "This kid... is he courting death to survive? What a bold one."
The door to Room 102 on the first floor opened. Mike tossed out two dead rats, looking disgusted. "Is this dungeon infected with the plague today?" He looked up, saw the hole in the corridor, and Louis dragging his bloated body, then cursed. Before he could duck back inside, he recognized Holmes. "Aren't you... Holmes? What are you doing here—patching the wall or expelling rats?"
"Neither," Holmes replied. "I widened the hole and let the specter in."
Mike's mouth twitched. How did he get into so much trouble? "If you don't want to survive, don't drag us first-floor players down! I was supposed to slack off today, but these damn rats almost killed me!"
Holmes sheathed his hammer, wiping filth from his face. "I'm doing this to survive."
"You won't survive, man! All first-floor residents want to tear you apart, even the succubus in my room lost what little favor she had for you. The rats chewed her 'treasures'—now she wants to drain you dry!"
Holmes didn't care. Before Mike could say more, he slammed his door shut.
The stench intensified. Louis' severely swollen, grotesque face leaned in, staring at Holmes. "Why help me?"
"Just being helpful. No reason needed."
Louis didn't question the flimsy excuse. "I've lost all memories of this apartment. Can you help me find my old room? I know the landlord will drive me out soon, but I'll leave once I do what I came for."
This works! Holmes realized. Helping a grudge specter fulfill its wish would make it leave on its own, dispersing the rats. "I'll lead the way."
Turning the corner, they saw a familiar figure—Jack, who had just returned to the apartment. Their eyes met, and Jack looked stunned. "You... how are you inside the apartment?!"
Holmes didn't answer, but Louis behind him did. Jack realized the truth. "You brought this specter inside?! You're tired of living—even the gods can't save you now!"
Holmes said flatly, "If the gods won't save me, I'll save myself. Move aside."
Jack narrowed his eyes, unwilling to get involved, and turned to go upstairs.
At Room 102, Holmes knocked, but no one answered. Noticing the dusty doorknob, he realized the room seemed uninhabited. Louis pushed the door open—it creaked to reveal a surprisingly clean interior. Every inch was spotless, from the vases to the key tray, the floor polished to a shine, contradicting the dusty exterior.
Louis grew excited, touching everything. "It's all the same... this is my home... but where is it?"
Holmes checked the wall clock—less than an hour left. If Louis didn't leave with the rats soon, the enraged specters would tear Holmes apart before the mission punishment.
"Ah—! I just finished cleaning, and now it's a mess! How did you get in?!" A girl entered from the balcony, dropping her drink at the sight of Louis. Dressed stylishly, with glossy red hair and a tray of steaks, she was clearly a player living comfortably—even Holmes was taken aback.
"Wh-what is that specter? Don't touch anything! It's all dirty now—I'm dead!" She'd finally found a safe dungeon, and now her perfect life was shattered.
"Are you the resident of Room 102?" Holmes asked.
The girl glared hatefully. "What did I ever do to you?"
"Mission requirements. I had no choice." Holmes pointed to Louis. "He seems to be the original owner."
"Bullshit! I live here—how wouldn't I know the owner?"
Ignoring her, Holmes touched objects in the room, triggering a flood of hidden info. In two minutes, he pieced together Louis' backstory.
He interrupted the girl. "How long have you survived here?"
She stayed silent, glaring.
"Answer if you want to keep surviving."
"One month," she relented. "A specter I can't see gives me daily tasks. Where? How do you know?"
"Show me."
She led him to a bedroom, pointing to a bloodstained wall. "I get tasks here. It says I won't be expelled if I clean well."
Just then, Louis entered the bedroom, trembling at the sight of the wall. "I remember... it all comes back!"
Holmes told the girl, "Leave them. Don't interrupt the father-daughter reunion."
"Father-daughter?" She was confused.
"After they finish, you'll be safe, and my mission will be done." Holmes left the room, closing the door on the bleeding wall.
Outside, the girl was still dazed. Holmes cleared his dry throat. "Got anything to drink?"
"I only clean here—I can't use anything." She reluctantly handed him a juice bottle. "Don't drink it all—it took me three days to save!"
Holmes gulped it down. She gritted her teeth. "Finally willing to talk?"
Holmes wiped his mouth. "Let me tell you a story. Once, a father and daughter lived in an apartment. When the father couldn't pay rent, the landlord threatened eviction. The outside was too dangerous, so he found a way to keep his daughter here forever. Guess how?"
The girl paled, thinking of the blood wall. "He... he bricked her into the wall?"
"Exactly. He exploited a rule—apartment walls can't be moved. She's alive in the wall, and he became a specter after being driven out, losing his memory but clinging to the obsession of his home and the person there. One day, he returned, triggered by familiar memories, and tried everything to get in."
The girl was silent. "That's... cheesy."
"Cheesy or not, it helps complete the mission."
Minutes later, the door opened. Louis emerged, his face covered in sticky hair, looking like a water ghost. The girl hid behind Holmes.
"Thank you. Seeing my daughter safe here... my last wish is fulfilled. I'll leave now—sorry for the trouble." The obsession that had tortured Louis finally lifted.
Holmes relaxed, but then worried about the massive hole in the wall. How will this be fixed? Who will repair it?