Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Entity in the Room and the Second Floor

Inside Zhang Lan's home, the ground floor living room was saturated with a deep, vibrant red.

A vast network of fine, dense blood vessels covered the floor, all originating from a single entity positioned in the center of the room. The entity’s body had been severed at the waist; its lower half was missing, serving as the source from which the sprawling veins emanated.

The vessels carpeted the entire living room floor, raising the surface level by about two or three centimeters. These intricate, overlapping layers of veins crawled over the furniture—climbing up tables and chairs before spilling back onto the floor—creating an uneven, bumpy terrain beneath the crimson mass. They reached toward the staircase and the edges of the walls, their tips clawing at the surfaces like ivy, attempting to grow upward.

Despite their persistent efforts, the vessels seemed to make little headway. In the corners of the room, piles of dislodged wall plaster littered the floor, mixing with the vessels to create a muddy, grayish-brown texture stained by organic fluids. They had tried to climb the stairs, but after ascending two or three steps, the growth halted. The veins were layered thick enough to match the height of the third step, yet they dared not climb any higher, remaining frozen in place.

Returning to the source, Chen Qing’s gaze lingered on the severed torso. Veins spilled from within the body, filling the entire abdominal cavity; from the perspective of the jagged, severed torso, it almost looked as if these vessels were the pillars holding the body upright. The torso and the column of veins formed a semi-circular shape, cascading downward like a waterfall erupting from the remains.

The entity’s hands were unnaturally gaunt, suspended in mid-air like eagle talons, pointing toward the front door. Its frame was withered, and its face had lost all human semblance. The eye sockets were sunken, occupied entirely by a mass of flowing, bright red vessels. They intertwined and pulsed, lending the skull a grotesque, fleeting semblance of life.

"What... is this?" Jiang Wan looked at the scene before her, cold sweat soaking through her shirt.

"An entity," came the reply.

"What kind of entity! No, that’s not right..." Jiang Wan shook her head, clutching her forehead as she asked, "Why would an entity appear in the Main World?"

Chen Qing fell silent for a moment. He pulled a pendant from his collar and gestured toward Bu Zhaozhao, who was hovering in the air. "Ask her. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life."

Listening to Chen Qing, she wore a similarly strange expression. "Under certain circumstances... entities from the Backrooms can leave through gateways. But the problem is, entities that leave the Backrooms cannot survive for long. Once they lose the support of the Backrooms' rules, they quickly weaken and die. Something like this..." She pointed at the still-writhing veins, her brow furrowed in astonishment. "This is the first time I’ve seen one with such vitality."

Chen Qing asked, "Have you seen the other one?"

To the side of the hall, near a sofa, stood a faceless man dressed in a crisp, sharp suit. His face appeared to be tightly covered by some kind of gelatinous substance that rose and fell with every breath he took. He stood perfectly still, and the surrounding blood vessels instinctively veered away from his position.

"The Foundation once recovered an investigator's walkie-talkie from an entity like that; subsequent experiments suggest that these types of entities are transformed investigators."

"No wonder you're so knowledgeable..." Chen Qing realized, though his gaze remained restricted by the state of the room. "We might have to go upstairs..."

Jiang Wan took a pack of tissues from her pocket and tossed it onto the network of veins. The moment the tissues hit the ground, the vessels surged forward, hungrily pulling them underneath. In mere seconds, the rhythmic, blood-pumping motion of the veins smoothed the bump back into its original state.

"Looks like we can't step on them..." Jiang Wan’s face turned pale, but before she could finish, Chen Qing countered, "No. Look beneath our feet. We're standing on them right now, aren't we?"

Chen Qing pointed to their feet. Only then did Jiang Wan notice that the entryway where they stood was also covered in veins. However, these vessels were much finer, and walking on them was barely noticeable.

"There are parts of the floor we can step on." Chen Qing turned his head, his gaze settling on the shoe cabinet by the entrance.

"But how do we tell them apart?"

"Try a heat source?" Jiang Wan asked, and Bu Zhaozhao answered.

"No. A heat source would be too much of a provocation. Even if it were safe, I'm afraid I’d just end up irritating it and getting us attacked." Chen Qing frowned, his eyes suddenly landing on a bottle of alcohol. Next to the alcohol sat two neatly stacked, large boxes of salt.

"Tell me, why would they buy so much salt..."

Jiang Wan rolled her eyes at him. "You don't know? People hoarded salt during the SARS outbreak, and now with the nuclear wastewater discharge, everyone's stocking up on sea salt to eat slowly."

"I suppose." He tilted his head, pointing at the text on the salt boxes. "Do you think there's a chance that most of us in inland cities actually eat lake salt or bamboo salt?"

Jiang Wan was silent for a moment, glancing away.

"You didn't hoard any, did you?"

She lowered her head further.

"This salt..." She looked out the window, lost in thought. "Maybe we can use it..."

Just as Jiang Wan was about to voice her complaints, she turned back to see Chen Qing tearing open the bags of salt, spreading the grains across the veins on the floor.

"Eh?" She watched his actions, bewildered. "What are you doing..." She furrowed her brow, unable to fathom his intent.