Yang Jian obtained a lot of useful information from this person named Old Li, information that was crucial and important, allowing him to have a general understanding of the situation on the fifth floor of the post office.
According to Old Li, the messenger on the fifth floor of the post office had stopped delivering letters for a long time because the black letter was left in room 502, causing the post officeās operations to be unable to function properly, while the previous messengers on the fifth floor lived comfortably without any issues.
Previously, some messengers who came up from the fourth floor gained temporary freedom as a result, while some chose to, like Yang Jian, enter room 502 to try to take away the black letter to restore the post office to normal, but unfortunately, the previous people all failed.
The prolonged stalemate made Old Li realize the severity of the issue.
The post office was losing control.
The harm caused by losing control was even more terrifying, so Old Li had been waiting for a messenger who could handle this black letter.
Yang Jianās appearance was not accidental; rather, he had the strength to handle the supernatural in room 502.
To put it simply, he was strong enough.
The previous messengers might have had luck, brains, and ability, but they lacked some strength, so regrettably, they could only die here.
āBy the way, do you know a woman named Silver?ā Yang Jian suddenly asked.
āYes, there is such a person, she also entered this room 502. She left a deep impression on me.ā Old Li was silent for a moment, as if recalling past events.
Yang Jian looked at the broken corpses everywhere: āDid she die?ā
The woman nicknamed Silver was a captain-level figure designated by headquarters, mysterious in identity, and suspected to have been a messenger of the post office long ago, but now she was missing, with no one knowing she was here. Before her disappearance, only Zhou Deng on the supernatural bus saw her.
āNo, she didnāt die. She was the only one who didnāt take away the black letter but managed to escape from this room; after that, I never saw her again. She didnāt appear on the fifth floor of the post office.ā Old Li said.
āI seeā¦ā Yang Jian frowned.
From Old Liās words, itās not hard to deduce that the captain named Silver also entered room 502 before him, tried to take the black letter, but although ultimately failed, she succeeded in surviving and then disappeared?
Old Li continued: āPerhaps other messengers know her whereabouts. I have been trapped here for a long time, unable to get out, so I donāt know much. Now you should leave; staying longer will only be more dangerous.ā
At this moment.
Supernatural phenomena frequently appeared in this room, the ghost was resurrecting, making this place very dangerous, not suitable for anyone to stay.
Yang Jian had already stayed at risk for a long time to inquire for more information.
This was Old Liās second urging.
āI understand, Iāll handle the matter of the black letter.ā Yang Jian said no more and turned to leave.
Old Li stood in the middle of the living room, like a ghost isolated from the world, trapped here with no escape, no freedom, his emotions had already faded, holding on till now was nothing more than a belief.
Being able to come to the fifth floor and being willing to willingly sacrifice to leave this black letter must have his own unavoidable beliefs.
This is not something general people can understand.
Just like Sun Rui, a person responsible for Dahan City, his identity and status unparalleled, able to fully enjoy life, but he gambled his life on the first floor of the post office, only to deal with the Ghost Post Office.
After all, some things must be done by someone.
And this Old Li, Sun Rui, are those kinds of people.
Yang Jian returned to the fifth-floor lobby of the post office.
The eyes in the oil painting once again stared at him, some eyes still emitted malice, some assessed, and eerie gazesā¦the people in these oil paintings are the ones who successfully escaped the post office.
Theyāre the top-tier messengers.
If there are people alive in the oil paintings, then they must be an extraordinary ghost handler.
āAre these eyes all longing for resurrection?ā
Yang Jiang turned his Ghost Eye, staring at the painting suspected to be his fatherās portrait: āIf after the three letters on the fifth floor can truly resurrect someone in the oil painting, then would you also want to resurrect?ā
The male in the oil paintingās eyes moved, seeming to be having a stare-down with Yang Jian.
The appearance of the people in the painting and those outside the painting are quite similar, sufficiently proving the unusual relationship between them.
āIf I use one chance to resurrect someone, it means Iāve come here to the fifth floor for nothing, then Iāll have to go back to the first floor and start all overā¦this isnāt worth it, but if I miss this chance, maybe Iāll never have the opportunity to resurrect my father again.ā
Yang Jian thought inwardly.
He didnāt have much feeling for his deceased father, even if he did, becoming a ghost handler over the past year had nearly eradicated it, leaving just an obsession, hoping for a good result, thatās all.
Yang Jian finally withdrew his gaze with a complex emotion.
He didnāt look at that portrait anymore.
Now is not the time to think about these things, the night is not over yet; he should take this opportunity tonight to continue exploring the fifth floor of the post office.
āOld Li mentioned previously that there was a glass bottle containing pieces of a corpse in one of the oil paintings, and another one in room 501. However, room 501 should have a ghost. Today, I donāt want to provoke a ghost again, letās see if I can find the glass bottle in the oil painting first.ā
Yang Jian once again examined the oil paintings, looking for useful clues.
Finally, he found it.
An inconspicuous oil painting.
That painting was hanging in the corner of a wall, covered in dust, abandoned there for a long time, but the oil painting had nothing in it, just a room with various strange things.
There were vases with withered flowers inserted, old tables, broken puppets, and windows nailed shut with planksā¦..and on the floor of this old room, a glass bottle containing a dead personās arm lay there.
Yang Jian walked over, without saying a word, he directly took down the oil painting.
He reached out to touch the surface of the oil painting.
Something bizarre happened, his hand was disappearing, and at the same time, a hand appeared on the oil painting.
āSo thatās it, these oil paintings are all a supernatural space, can enter, just like the ghost painting back then.ā
He retracted his hand because he didnāt plan to enter the oil painting at this time, itās enough to find the oil painting, and itās not too late to retrieve the glass bottle later when itās safe.
Yet as he retrieved his hand, the scene in the oil painting suddenly changed.
A dreadful black shadow appeared at the edge of the oil painting, the shadow like a figure was entering this old room.
Afterward, Yang Jian felt a strange sensation with his hand, as if someone inside suddenly grabbed him.
Yes.
No mistake, Yang Jian saw the shadow of that half-black figure in the oil painting with a blurry dark hand covering the place where his hand was.
At the same time, his body was being slowly pulled into the oil painting.
No, it wasnāt his body being pulled, rather the oil painting was actively sticking close, seemingly wanting to swallow him.
āThereās a ghost in this painting?ā
Yang Jianās expression darkened, without much hesitation he directly abandoned this arm, to avoid unnecessary complications.
The ghost shadowās ability to piece together corpses easily freed him from the bond, leaving an arm inside the oil painting, then taken away by the blurry black figure.
He used the Deceiving Ghostās ability.
A new arm appeared once again.
āFor safetyās sake, I should use the Ghost Hand.ā Yang Jian thought to himself.
His Ghost Hand was holding a long spear just in case of any incident in the fifth-floor lobby, thatās why he used a normal hand to test the oil painting.
Unexpectedly, there was no incident in the lobby, instead danger appeared within the oil painting.
āCanāt underestimate each painting here, perhaps theyāre hiding unknown ghosts.ā Yang Jian saw the location of that glass bottle.
In the farthest part of that old room.
This means his hand couldnāt touch it; to get it, he must risk entering inside.
The ghost in the oil painting seemed unable to leave the painting; after taking Yang Jianās arm, that blurry silhouette disappeared again, and the oil painting restored to its previous state.
No choice.
Yang Jian could only consider taking it back to room 507.
āLi Yang, open the door.ā He arrived at the door.
āCaptain?ā Li Yang carefully opened a crack in the door, even ready to take action.
When he saw Yang Jianās Ghost Eye and the supernatural weapon in his hand, he was sure.
Ghosts could impersonate Yang Jian, but they couldnāt impersonate the Firewood Knife and Coffin Nail.
āWas there something happened before? Your face looks wrong.ā Yang Jian asked.
Li Yang lowered his voice and said: āCaptain, come in first, there are ghosts wandering outside, earlier a ghost used your voice to ask me to open the door, almost entered the room, luckily I repelled it.ā
He held a small blood-stained wooden mallet, capable of temporarily repelling ghosts.
Though it seemed minor, it actually could save a life at critical moments.
āThis happened? Thereās a ghost imitating me trying to invade the room? How come I didnāt see any ghosts before?ā Yang Jian stood outside, he glanced around again.
In the vision of the Ghost Eye, he found nothing.
āForget it, this ghostly place could have any sort of bizarre occurrences, and the fifth floor of the post office is already confirmed to have ghosts existing on this level. We just have to be more careful. You keep that painting safe; Iāve decided to continue investigating the situation.ā Yang Jian handed the oil painting to Li Yang and didnāt go inside.
He would rather stay outside than go into the room.
āDid you find any clues just now?ā Li Yang asked as he took the oil painting.
āNot bad, I contacted the person in Room 502 and obtained some important intelligence, but the secrets of the fifth floor are far more than just that.ā Yang Jian briefly described some of the situations on the fifth floor.
Li Yang found it unbelievable after listening.
He didnāt expect such things to happen on the fifth floor of the post office.
Previous messengers actually discovered a way to avoid delivering letters and rid themselves of the post office curse, making it so messengers entering the fifth floor from then on wouldnāt need to deliver letters.
It seems there truly are many talented individuals among the fifth-floor messengers.
āUnfortunately, there was a flaw in their understanding at the time; although the method was useful, the side effects are greater, which previous messengers didnāt realize. The loss of control of the post office now is related to this,ā Yang Jian said.
āThatās about the situation, Iām leaving.ā
He left some information behind and then turned around, disappearing into the darkness outside the door.
As the black letter finally departed Room 502.
The curse that had been suppressed within the post office for at least ten years began to emerge.
From various places.
Numerous eerie roads leading to the post office started to appear, with each road symbolizing the existence of a fifth-floor messenger.
And through long accumulation.
The number of fifth-floor messengers is more than imagined.
Rumors from previous fourth-floor and third-floor messengers said there was an issue on the fifth floor, suspecting they all died, but now itās clear that was wrong.
The fifth-floor messengers didnāt die; they simply didnāt need to deliver letters anymore and thus separated from the post office, living unnoticed across cities nationwide, concealing their identities, which created the false impression of an empty fifth floor.
Subsequent messengers entering the fifth floor couldnāt see others and discovered fierce ghosts within the rooms, naturally assuming there was an issue on the fifth floor and everyone had died.
āThe operation of the post office has resumed, and the black letter was actually taken by a new messenger. As expected, the worst fear has happened after neglecting the post office for too long, assuming it would remain calm. It seems the fate of the messengers canāt be changed,ā in an ordinary residential building.
A man in his forties stood on the balcony in pajamas, smoking a cigarette, deeply furrowing his brows.
āDad, Mom said not to smoke on the balcony. Come back to sleep,ā at this moment a cute child around ten years old ran over, pulling the manās hand.
āTell mom Iāll go to sleep as soon as I finish this cigarette.ā The middle-aged man rubbed his slightly balding forehead, then returned to his senses and said with a smile.
āDonāt lie.ā
The cute child then immediately ran off.
The middle-aged man flicked his finger, tossing the cigarette butt into the nearby trash can, then his face turned somber: āRegardless of who moves the black letters, no matter good or bad, they should be killed. The curse of the messengers has ended and shouldnāt continue.ā
At that moment, he made a decision and then turned back inside.
The lights flickered.
āHoney, Iām going out for a bit.ā The middle-aged man walked out the door in pajamas and slippers.
Meanwhile, in another city.
āWhat? Two hundred yuan for the driving service fee, okay, okay, Iām on my way.ā A man struggling for life ran a nighttime driving service.
He was in his forties, but life made him appear particularly weary.
Yet this man didnāt complain about fatigue, continuing his hard work.
However, as this man put down the phone and prepared to set off on his electric scooter, he suddenly saw a strange, eerie path appearing before him.
At the end of the path.
A building from the Republic of China Period faintly emerged.
āThe post officeās task has started?ā The driving service man paused, a terrifying experience from years ago slowly resurfacing in his mind.
āWhy now, at least let me finish this job first.ā
He was still thinking about earning that two hundred yuan.
āNo, wait, Iām a fifth-floor messenger, and fifth-floor messengers havenāt been delivering letters for a long time, right?ā
He remembered that after that incident, the fifth-floor messengers completed the letter delivery tasks, went their separate ways, and never met again.
āCould it be someone took that black letter?ā
Details began to resurface in his mind.
The driving service manās face twisted into a snarl: āIāve been living so hard, why am I not allowed to have peace, whyā¦..ā
He was especially vicious.
The street lamps on the entire path flickered, alternating between light and dark.
āIf you donāt want me to live well, then I wonāt let you die well. Iām giving up on earning that two hundred yuan, just to exchange for your life.ā
The weariness on his face vanished, replaced by the ash-gray of a corpse.
The driving service man turned his electric scooter around, as though heading somewhere to retrieve some items and once again pick up the identity of a messenger.
There are many similar situations.
Most of the fifth-floor messengers are hidden among ordinary people in the city.
This was their initial agreement.
Their messenger identity could not be exposed, nor could they use supernatural power, otherwise they might never be able to live as normal people.
Compared to the frightening experiences of delivering letters, they were more than happy to adhere to this agreement, to forget their identity as messengers.
Even though supernatural incidents were occurring in the city, they had nothing to do with them, and they just wished to live, to live well, to live the life of a normal person.
Itās a very low demand, but also a luxury for the messengers.
So they cherished this life immensely and worked extremely hard.
But Yang Jianās appearance caused the fifth floor of the post office to start running again, breaking the created balance.
He suddenly became the target of everyone.
No matter right or wrong, good or evil.
If the fifth-floor messengers didnāt want to continue the letter delivery task, they had only one choice: eliminate Yang Jian, then return the black letter to Room 502.
All messengers are in action.
They all put aside their tasks, got ready, and rushed toward the post office.
Yang Jian is unaware of all this, after all, itās just his first day on the fifth floor, and he doesnāt know how deep the waters of the fifth floor truly are.
Time slowly passes.
But there are still several hours until the post officeās six oāclock lights turn on.
Yet some messengers have already become unable to contain themselves and have set foot on roads leading to the post office.
The wait until daylight is too long.
Dark dreams abound during long nights, and the person who took the black letter is currently in the post office, presenting a good opportunity. Although there is danger within the post office after the lights are turned off, for fifth-floor messengers, this danger isnāt entirely insurmountable.
āThump, thump thump!ā
A series of hurried and heavy footsteps emerged on the old staircase of the post office.
The staircase runs straight from the first floor to the fifth floor, making it impossible to reach any other floors.
A fifth-floor messenger appeared.
Heās a broad and bulky man, about fifty years old, wearing a work apron, carrying a fishy smell, seemingly a fish seller who had been working overtime at night, as evidenced by the fresh blood on his apron, not yet dried.
His name is Zhao Feng.
When he was young, he was a mature and charming handsome man, but time has worn him down, and now heās simply an ordinary fish seller.
During his time delivering letters, previous messengers gave him a nickname.
Soul-Reaper.
The nickname sounds somewhat juvenile, but more than ten years ago, it wouldnāt have been perceived that way.
Instead, this nickname represented strength and recognition among the messengers.
āEliminate this newcomer, and thereās still time to go back and butcher the remaining fish. Itās not the first time Iāve done such a thing; itāll end quickly.ā Zhao Fengās fat face showed no expression, and he wielded a rusty iron hook.
Like a hook used in slaughterhouses to hang carcasses.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
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