Chapter 1: Deadly Question┃The End at the Beginning

Snow had been falling for four hours, with no sign of stopping.

This was a cabin in the wilderness, its walls hung with hunting gear, a worm-eaten long wooden table set in the center, and people of all ages—men, women, and even a foreigner—sat around it.

It was cold inside. Everyone sat shivering with grim faces, but no one got up to light a fire, because the old-fashioned radio on the table was speaking.

[The current time is 17:30 Beijing time.]

[There are 30 minutes left until the exam. Candidates, please enter the venue promptly.]

The radio’s voice was hoarse, carrying the static unique to the 1950s, tirelessly chattering away like a ghost.

This was already its second announcement. The first was three hours ago: [Welcome to Exam Room No. 003712], which directly scared an old lady into fainting, and she still hadn’t come to.

As for the person who ignored the instructions and tried to dismantle the radio... after removing the battery case, he seemed possessed and rushed outside. Five minutes later, his corpse slid down from the roof along with the snow.

After that, no one dared touch the thing again.

[Candidates who have not entered, please do so as soon as possible. Do not linger outside.]

The message looped three times, and the room was deathly silent.

After a long while, someone whispered, “It’s giving instructions again... What do we do? How does it know someone’s still outside?”

Everyone looked uneasy, but no one answered.

After another moment, the person at the head of the table asked impatiently, “So who hasn’t come in yet?”

This person had a head of slightly curly, dirt-yellow hair like a chicken’s, a lean build, and average height. Both arms were tattooed like a zoo—you couldn’t tell if they were donkeys or dogs, but the effect was intimidating.

The person next to him shrank back and replied, “Old Baker.”

“Which Old Baker?”

“The drunk who threw up as soon as he came in, the one with his son and nephew.”

The speaker jerked his chin toward the wall and cautiously made a “shh” gesture.

By the wall was a broken sofa, where the nephew lay.

He was a young man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, very tall and striking. When he entered, ducking under the doorframe, he and the snowy pines outside made a picturesque scene. But he’d worn a scowl since coming in, looking a bit arrogant.

According to the drunken, rambling Old Baker, the nephew’s name was Brian Baker.

“He just got back to the country less than two months ago, took advantage of the National Day holiday to visit me in Harbin. I was supposed to take him to the airport tomorrow morning, but... it’s all my fault! I couldn’t hold my liquor!”

Old Baker got himself drunk at the farewell dinner, and, taking advantage of the empty streets at night, staggered along.

On the sidewalk in front of the children’s hospital, someone had left a pile of silver joss paper. As Old Baker wobbled past, he lost his balance and stepped right into the pile. The world spun, and he, his son, and his nephew were all swept up and sent here.

When they entered the cabin, he was still dizzy and promptly threw up all over Brian Baker. After that, Old Baker sobered up in fright and didn’t dare speak to Brian Baker.

Everyone here had encountered something supernatural in broad daylight, completely unprepared. Only the foreigner named Mike had a clean set of clothes in his backpack.

After changing, Brian Baker kept his distance from the others, curling up on the sofa and saying nothing, as if he’d fallen asleep.

Through the arm covering his face, you could see an earring in his right ear, glinting dazzlingly in the lamplight and the snowy reflection outside.

……

It should have been dark, but the snow blanketed the mountains, making it still bright outside.

A heavily pregnant woman looked anxiously at the cupboard. Time on cell phones had become erratic here; only the clock on top of the cupboard told the time. “It’s almost six. Could that Old Baker...”

Bang bang bang!

Before she finished, the door was suddenly pounded on.

Everyone jumped, staring over. Someone wiped the snow from the window, and Old Baker’s big face pressed against the glass, mouthing exaggeratedly, “It’s me, open up.”

Everyone breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, he made it back before six—no one died.

The two snowmen who entered were Old Baker and his son William Baker.

“How’s it outside?” everyone asked anxiously.