A Nauseating Call and Urgent Deaths

A familiar, yet utterly nauseating voice reached Bai Wanwan’s ears, causing her to instinctively furrow her brows.

“The thing is, we have an urgent assignment on our hands, and I was wondering if you might be interested?”

The speaker’s voice still retained its characteristic flippancy, a quality that inexplicably ignited a spark of fury within Bai Wanwan.

“Hadn’t I already made myself clear?” Bai Wanwan snarled, slowly, deliberately, “Go! To! Hell!”

Bai Wanwan slowly, venomously enunciated each word, her resentment burning with an intensity that rivaled even Liu Hanzhi’s, the vengeful ghost herself.

Suddenly, as if struck by a realization, her expression momentarily froze.

‘On the other end of the phone… such oppressive yin energy,’ she thought.

“We’re truly understaffed, and finding a beautiful girl these days is quite a challenge. So, how about this, Miss Bai? You only need to make one appearance. You won’t have to do anything but stand there, simply stabilizing the atmosphere for us. We’ll arrange transportation, and a dedicated person will ensure your safety. What do you say?”

“Once it’s done, we can offer you a cash reward of thirty thousand yuan.”

As she listened to the man’s proposition, Bai Wanwan’s agitation surprisingly subsided, leaving her feeling considerably calmer.

“I’d advise you not to concern yourself with such matters right now,” she stated coolly. “Your nightclub is on the verge of experiencing a fatality.”

Bai Wanwan idly rubbed her fingers together, her voice devoid of warmth. No sooner had the words left her lips than a cacophony erupted from the other end of the line, followed by a woman’s muffled murmuring. The distance made it impossible to discern the specifics.

Yet, she managed to catch a few crucial fragments: ‘basement,’ ‘old spot,’ and ‘another death.’

The call was abruptly disconnected moments later.

“This wretched nightclub, what’s the point of keeping it open? If I were them, I would have shut it down and fled ages ago.”

Bai Wanwan sighed, a note of displeasure in her breath. Noticing the shift in her companion’s mood, Liu Hanzhi leaned closer, a hint of curiosity in her spectral gaze.

“Who was that? To provoke such a reaction from you?”

Bai Wanwan cast a glance at Liu Hanzhi before relaying the details of the call she had just received.

Liu Hanzhi, upon hearing the account, also bristled with indignation. After all, she and Bai Wanwan were now bound by a marriage contract.

“To be frank,” Liu Hanzhi began, her tone softening slightly, “I truly admire you.”

“Most people, faced with such circumstances, would have long since succumbed to despair. Penniless, without support, and saddled with immense debt, that man must have been certain you’d agree, which is why he spoke with such condescension.”

“His sole intention was to turn you into a commodity! It’s a good thing you didn’t agree.”

Liu Hanzhi nodded, a touch of self-satisfaction in her demeanor. Bai Wanwan was the one she had chosen out of ten thousand, a testament, in her own estimation, to her discerning eye.

“Let’s not dwell on them,” Bai Wanwan dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Their troubles are far greater than mine.”

She was utterly exhausted, and whatever issues arose, they could certainly wait until after she had slept.

No sooner had Bai Wanwan settled onto the unyielding bed frame than a call from an unfamiliar number rang out.

“It’s Liu Guochang’s number,” Liu Hanzhi announced.

Liu Hanzhi had seen this particular number in the backend messages previously, recognizing it instantly.

“Hello,” Bai Wanwan answered, a weary note already creeping into her voice.

“Master Bai, my apologies for disturbing your rest. Regarding the commission in Baishi, I’ve already made contact for you. The client is willing to offer an additional hundred thousand yuan, pleading only that you resolve the issue as swiftly as possible.”

A distinct nervousness edged Liu Guochang’s voice, making it clear that this matter was far from straightforward.

“Oh, alright, I understand. Let’s wait until tomorrow…”

“Of course, that’s possible, but… the client is incredibly anxious, as this incident has already claimed three lives.”

Liu Guochang’s words were hesitant, almost stammering, as if he were nervously concealing something.

For a man who had navigated the cutthroat world of business for years to exhibit such a reaction, it was clear this was no minor affair.

“You sound a bit nervous,” Bai Wanwan said, a hint of weariness in her tone. “It’s alright, just tell me everything.”

Bai Wanwan felt a touch of exasperation. Here was a man well past middle age, yet she, a mere young woman, found herself in the position of needing to offer comfort.

“Just now… two more people died at their venue.”

“At the Jinbaihan Nightclub in Baishi, the deceased are a customer and their duty manager…”

“The customer passed away over three hours ago, while their duty manager… died less than ten minutes ago!”