Wondering what image he had in this netizen’s mind.
Even people at the Resurgence Management Office saw him as lawful and harmless, but no one ever doubted his self-defense skills.
His knuckles tapped lightly, and Xu Qinglai suddenly chuckled.
“Got it, I’ll be careful.”
“Just got off work—heading home now.”
As he typed, he glanced at the driver up front.
The driver caught Mr. Xu’s cue and started the car immediately.
The vehicle pulled away from the company. Xu Qinglai leaned back in his seat and, sure enough, saw a new message.
“Yeah, heading home?”
“That’s good—nights have been unsafe lately.”
Bo Ting relaxed: “Once Mr. Xu’s home, send a message to let me know you’re safe.”
Xu Qinglai stared at the message for a few seconds, his expression odd for a moment, but he replied:
“Sure.”
Bo Ting pocketed his phone. Mr. Xu had just gotten off work and was in the car—no need to bother him now.
He’d message once home.
Looking around at all the lit-up floors, Bo Ting’s slight evening nervousness faded.
With so many people in the building and everyone leaving lights on, it felt secure.
Probably because the whole neighborhood was lit up. From the balcony, Bo Ting could even spot Gouzi darting wildly in the garden.
…
At the Resurgence Management Office:
After sending the text message about the “Jinding Peak Night Crying Woman” incident, Lu Jingshan waited for a response.
However, it seemed the other side had no intention of continuing to surf the web?
They ignored the “provocation”?
Lu Jingshan raised an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving that the weird entity would be so good-tempered.
Even if, for certain reasons, they couldn’t speculate on the weird entity’s thought processes, the fact that high-level weird entities had strong territorial awareness alone made Lu Jingshan think they wouldn’t just ignore it.
Otherwise, last time after their “fishing” attempt, it wouldn’t have issued that casual warning.
But this time…
Tch, what did the lack of reaction mean?
Lu Jingshan rubbed his chin and couldn’t help but try to think from the other’s perspective.
He persisted until two in the morning, but there was still no activity online. Not only the account that had appeared before, but no new anomalous signal sources were detected across all major platforms either.
Lu Jingshan rubbed his temples, starting to doubt his life choices.
Had he really guessed wrong?
…
Counting the hours as the night dragged on, Bo Ting leaned on the sofa and yawned, then couldn’t help but glance at the clock again.
Mm, it was already four in the morning; dawn was about to break soon.
There shouldn’t be any issues, right?
His head felt groggy. Even as a workaholic young man, he was a bit dazed after staying up all night. Bo Ting fought off the sleepiness and checked the group chat.
Around two-something in the morning, someone had reported they were safe, but after two-thirty, not a single message came through.
It looked like everyone had gone to sleep—they just hadn’t turned off the lights.
He sent a message. Just as he prepared to exit the chat, he suddenly heard a familiar dog bark.
In the dead of night, Doudou’s “woof-woo” sounded especially invigorating and cleared his mind. Bo Ting, who had been drowsy, snapped awake and abruptly stood up.
Gouzi’s figure had vanished from in front of the floor-to-ceiling window at some point, but in the empty garden, continuous enraged “woof woof” barks from the dog echoed nonstop.
Aside from being a bit shy when it first arrived home, Bo Ting hadn’t heard Gouzi make that sound in a long time.
No good—this definitely meant Doudou was in danger!
“Neighbors, looks like something’s happening!”
He frowned and hesitated for only a split second before slipping on his raincoat and posting in the group that he was heading out.
However, from the first bark he heard to now, less than a minute had passed, and that “awoo” sound had already grown more distant. Interspersed intermittently were bursts of a woman’s crying, making it sound like Gouzi was about to lose.
It sent a chill down his spine.
Bo Ting’s expression grew grave for a moment, but his determination to save the dog won out. He barely comforted himself: Don’t be scared.
After all, he wasn’t exactly human—what was there to fear?
If it really was the serial killer, maybe they would be the one scared of him?
He was just an air conditioner, after all.
He imagined: if that serial killer really broke into their neighborhood, chased after the dog, and then ran into him head-on, only to lift his raincoat and reveal a mobile air conditioner beneath the baggy clothes—they might think they’d encountered some weird event.
With that self-reassurance in mind, Bo Ting pursed his lips and shoved the door open.
The old security door clicked in the silent corridor.
Perhaps because they were dead asleep, there was no sound from Aunt Qian’s place next door.
Bo Ting glanced back, thinking that calling Auntie Qian and the others wouldn’t help much anyway, so he mustered his courage, left the corridor, and followed the increasingly distant sounds down to the first floor.
Fortunately, Doudou was still alive.
The dog’s agile figure burst out from under a large tree on the first floor with a “bang,” as if chasing something.
Bo Ting let out a sigh of relief and hurried after it.
But after taking just two steps, he understood why the dog was so frantic.
Because the sounds were everywhere around them!
Intermittent sobbing came successively from sewer grates, the garden soil, even the streetlights—making it impossible for Doudou to be everywhere at once.
As a carnivorous dog, Doudou rarely encountered a situation where it couldn’t reach its target.
Tonight was the exception.
After detecting the unfamiliar, nauseating aura, Doudou had immediately chased it out of the neighborhood. But after lingering nearby for half an hour, it still hadn’t spotted the source.
A flicker of confusion passed through the bone dog’s scarlet eyes, and it shook its head.
But the next second, a piercing cry erupted in its ears.
The eerie, shrill sound was so grating that even the mutated bone dog felt uncomfortable.
It was as if the opponent was deliberately “walking the dog”—disappearing every time Doudou alertly pursued, only to reappear right when Doudou gave up, luring the bone dog bit by bit away from the neighborhood…
When Bo Ting arrived, he saw Doudou darting madly around the garden for a few laps, then suddenly charging toward the neighborhood gate like it had lost its mind.
Not good!
Bo Ting’s face changed drastically. He immediately shouted toward the security booth.
“Doudou.”
The icy male voice transmitted from the security booth made Doudou’s dog head stiffen just as it was nearly bewitched into leaving. The ceaseless crying in its ears abruptly vanished.
Doudou: …
Finally, some relief.
Wait—no!
The black dog turned its head and slowly spotted the human standing in the security booth.
Bo Ting was still in his black raincoat, tall and stern. His expression was serious as he looked at it, brows furrowed.
Their eyes met, and Doudou’s dog legs buckled awkwardly as it stiffly walked back.
Bo Ting breathed a sigh of relief and crouched down to check the dog from head to toe.
“Good thing you’re okay. You scared me to death.”
“This depraved pervert even released a Pet Interferer in the neighborhood!”
Yes, that was it.
Bo Ting figured that maddening crying was the sound from the Pet Interferer. The culprit had definitely targeted their neighborhood and, seeing Doudou on guard, came up with this insidious trick to lure it out.
As for what happened after luring it out… In a killing maniac’s hands, even humans didn’t survive—what chance did a dog have?
The situation just now had been extremely urgent.
But they weren’t out of danger yet, were they?
After leashing the dog, Bo Ting stayed alert, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
However, after he came downstairs, the crying had already stopped.
The area was deathly quiet, as if only he and the dog were there. Yet Bo Ting didn’t believe the serial killer would leave so easily.
But… where was the person?
Could they have… hidden in the security booth?
Bo Ting eyed the small room next door, his heart pounding.
If they really were in there, opening the door would put him face-to-face with the killer.
The pitch-black security booth showed no light.
Facing off against whatever was inside through the door, Bo Ting took a deep breath, gripped the dog’s leash tight, and summoned his courage.
But the next second, after shining his phone’s flashlight into the booth, he found… no one inside?
The less-than-five-square-meter space was visible at a glance.
Bo Ting scanned it once, then looked at the dog. After Doudou shook its head with a “woo woo” to indicate no one was there, he felt a bit suspicious.
Had they really left already?
And so quickly?
Meanwhile, at the Resurgence Management Office:
Even until dawn the next day, there was no activity in Taiping Luxury Garden.
Lu Jingshan couldn’t hold out any longer and finally went to rest. But when he woke up, he noticed his superior’s strange expression.
“What happened, Captain Zheng?”
Even the usually carefree Lu Jingshan felt fatigued after two consecutive failed setups targeting Taiping Luxury Garden.
Zheng Shangyun snapped out of his contemplation and didn’t hide anything.
“I just got a call.”
“No missing persons reports from Jinding Peak so far.”
As a prime leisure spot on the southern side of Mengjia City, Jinding Peak covered a vast area. Since the incident, the Resurgence Management Office had stationed people at every mountain entrance to prevent weird events.
But strangely, no matter how many people they deployed to block the paths, new bodies always turned up the next day—and most were unrelated to the area.
Some even lived in the city center, had been working overtime normally that evening, and inexplicably woke up on Jinding Peak.
This had given the Resurgence Management Office headaches for a long time. After calculating that last night was when Jinding Peak would strike again, Zheng Shangyun had immediately alerted Captain He Chengfeng and the Second Esper Squad to heighten their vigilance.
Yet until now… the Second Squad captain searching the mountain hadn’t reported back.
Had no one died last night?
