Henry Brooks had just walked out the door when William Clark got down from the bed. In fact, he had never taken off his clothes, since he hadn’t planned on sleeping. At this moment, he was wearing light blue jeans on his lower half and a black long-sleeved shirt on top. The reason he was dressed like this in bed during the height of summer was for convenience later—if something unexpected happened, sometimes clothes could help ward off some of the harm.

David Miller was already sound asleep. William Clark pushed open the dormitory door, maintaining his own pace and rhythm, and followed behind Henry Brooks as they went downstairs together.

Henry Brooks pushed open the main door of the dormitory building and walked out. A moment later, the door was quietly pushed open again by William Clark, who followed after him.

As he walked, William Clark was thinking about the whole situation. Previously, he had been taken by the terrifying broadcast to an unfinished building scenario, and only after those three ghosts had turned to ash did he return to the side entrance of Passion Nightclub.

So, does that mean he had now entered another scenario? This scenario could be completely fake, but William Clark felt it was probably a mix of real and fake.

Right now, it was obvious that Henry Brooks was still alive, and the killer probably couldn’t have imitated Henry Brooks’s girlfriend’s voice to call him out.

In other words, the killer who was imitating the dismemberment case from decades ago hadn’t acted yet.

Suddenly, William Clark stopped in his tracks.

Hadn’t acted yet?

Then the time for the crime—

Could it be right now?

William Clark took out his phone, turned sideways to hide behind a tree by the path, his clothes covering the lit-up screen. When he checked the date, it was actually three days ago!

William Clark’s breathing quickened a bit. He pressed his somewhat dry lips together:

Because all the clues pointed in one direction—

That is,

Tonight

was the time when the dismemberment murderer would strike, and it was about to begin.

Should he keep moving forward and follow Henry Brooks, or go back to the dorm and lock the door to sleep?

The former was undoubtedly extremely dangerous, because even the police didn’t know how the killer committed the crime, and the many surveillance cameras on campus hadn’t captured a single clue. If he kept following Henry Brooks, he would also get caught up in the murder case that imitated the dismemberment. At this moment, images flashed through William Clark’s mind—not only the pieces of flesh hidden in classrooms, flowerbeds, restrooms, and so on, and the woman’s head in the bird’s nest on the tree, but also the scene of Henry Brooks nailed to a chair, his belly cut open and stuffed full of water-filled condoms.

It was very possible… he would become the third victim.

William Clark also recalled the hit-and-run driver. He had clearly been killed by that little girl, and in a brutal way, but the final result was that he died in a car accident.

If he died in this horror broadcast story, would there also be a flawless explanation for his death in reality?

Instinctively, William Clark began to retreat. He planned to give up—this was a human instinct, a fear of the unknown.

However, just then, a cold glint suddenly swept across William Clark’s vision.

William Clark whipped around, but behind him was still the quiet campus path and the dim streetlights—no one in sight.

But William Clark was certain that just now, it was the reflection of a knife that had, by pure chance, flashed across his body. As a member of a murder club who had killed many people, William Clark was extremely sensitive to this feeling.

He… had already been targeted?

The killer was now hiding in some corner nearby, weapon in hand, watching him with a gaze that was both subtle and cruel, like a predator waiting for its prey, searching for the right moment to strike.

Prey—strike?

William Clark’s teeth began to make a faint grinding sound.

When he thought of the words ‘prey’ and ‘hunter’, a certain emotion hidden deep in William Clark’s heart suddenly surged up.

He, it seemed, was also a hunter.

And most importantly, the other party had actually chosen to hide for now. What did that mean?

If it was like the last time, when he encountered the female office worker who charged at him head-on, then William Clark really wouldn’t have had any other options—after all, the female office worker was basically a zombie by then.

But this time, the other party—the killer—was, in all likelihood… human!

A human,

who would hide,

which meant they had concerns.

Good, that’s good.

William Clark slowly retreated to the side, completely blending his figure into the small grove behind the dormitory building, holding his dagger horizontally in front of him.

Both hunters,

then we

can have a contest!

Chapter Twelve: The Killer Has Arrived!

Darkness brings fear, but at the same time, it can also bring a kind of comfort—especially now, when William Clark had melted into the woods. Once the darkness hid his body, William Clark’s breathing unconsciously became steadier, and his earlier tension was soothed.

And just then, Henry Brooks had already turned the corner and walked far away. Under the streetlights, only a faint, blurry figure could be seen.