Chapter 3: The Locked Room

His head was swimming, and his vision seemed wrapped in a thick, oppressive fog. The distant hum of traffic from the main road ebbed and flowed, as if heard from within a dream. Lost in this suffocating haze, Yu Sheng wandered for an unknown stretch of time before his thoughts gradually cleared enough to take shape. He hesitated, pausing mid-step, and glanced back at the path he had taken.

Darkness had already claimed the sky, and the streetlights had long since flickered to life. He found himself on a narrow street near his home, flanked by old, low-rise residential buildings that crouched like lurking beasts in the shadows. The first-floor shops, haphazardly converted from living spaces, spilled warm light onto the street, pushing back the faint chill that gnawed at his bones.

Chill?

Suddenly, Yu Sheng felt it again—that piercing cold, slicing through his lungs and bones like shards of ice. He could still feel the rain slicing across his skin like knife edges, and, most hauntingly, the unnerving gaze—cold and slimy—of that giant Rain Frog fixated on him.

His breath caught, his chest tightening until he forced himself to inhale, dragging air into his lungs with ragged gasps. He couldn’t help but clutch at his chest, his hands trembling. For one agonizing moment, he almost believed that his heart was gone, that his chest was a hollow, icy void. Then his pulse thudded loud and sure against his palm—a heartbeat. He was still alive.

Yes, the living have heartbeats. He hadn’t been devoured by that monstrous Rain Frog.

But the memories surged and crashed over him like tidal waves, relentless and brutal. No matter how hard he tried to suppress them, the images persisted—raindrops drumming like war drums, a painted Door on a wall, and that colossal amphibian. He wanted to dismiss it as a mere hallucination, but the more he remembered, the more the notion crumbled under its own weight.

He had died once, yet here he was, walking down the path home—just two more intersections to go. Of all the eerie Doors he had encountered since arriving in this accursed Boundary City, this one was by far the most sinister.

His odd behavior had drawn a few cautious glances from passersby. Some people hesitated, seemingly debating whether to approach and offer help. He waved them off, hastily picking up his pace to leave the area.

Lingering on the sidewalk, trapped in contemplation, clearly wasn’t going to resolve anything. He moved on, briskly navigating the final stretch away from the old residential zone toward his so-called ‘home’ in this enigmatic city.

After just two intersections, the ambiance around him changed, growing more desolate and eerily vacant. It was as if he had stepped into a forgotten corner of the city. The streetlights stood lonely sentinels, their pale glow falling on empty sidewalks. He continued, until his destination loomed into view—the Old Manor.

A sprawling, three-story mansion, its once-grand facade had long since been weathered by time. The peeling walls and sloped roof gave it a haggard charm, and though the ancient Doors and windows seemed neglected, they remained intact—an aging monument to a bygone era when construction codes were more relaxed. In this chaotic Boundary City, this mansion was his only refuge—a haven where the shadows of those sinister Doors didn’t seem to reach.

Despite the house’s strangeness, it offered a peculiar sense of security. He took a deep breath, clutching the plastic shopping bag from the supermarket, and crossed through the stark glow of the streetlamp to unlock the front door.

The old Door creaked open with a weary groan. Yu Sheng stepped inside, flicking on the lights. Though the place bore no resemblance to the home of his past, the warm glow of the bulbs settled something uneasy within him. He closed the door, sealing away the city’s cold night.

He tossed the groceries on the kitchen shelf by the entrance before hurriedly crossing the vast, empty living room and stopping at the bathroom mirror. Pulling open his shirt, he scrutinized his chest.

There were no wounds, no blood—nothing to suggest he had ever suffered a fatal injury. It was as if death itself had been nothing more than a distorted memory. Frowning, he checked his shirt again, running his fingers over the place where the Rain Frog had pierced him.

“Damn Door…” he muttered under his breath.

He murmured softly to himself, leaving the restroom and turning back to the living room.

Behind him, the surface of the Mirror above the sink silently cracked, fissures spreading like spider webs before merging back together just as quietly.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room, Yu Sheng tried to sort through the chaotic mess in his mind. He didn’t know how much time had passed before his exhausted mind finally quieted down, and sleep enveloped him.

The feeling of drowsiness seemed to stretch on endlessly until a sudden ‘thud’ exploded in his mind, like someone striking stone with a shovel right above his head, jerking him awake.

He opened his eyes in the darkness, momentarily confused before realizing—the living room light had gone out.

He clearly remembered leaving it on before falling asleep!

A chill surged through his heart as instinct took over. Yu Sheng’s hand moved almost unconsciously towards the baton at his side—the first item he acquired for self-defense after arriving in this eerie and unfamiliar city. Although it hadn’t been useful so far, just holding it brought some psychological comfort to the terror-stricken upright ape that he had become.

Slowly and cautiously, he rose to his feet, his senses straining to pick up any sound or movement in the dark.

In such a desolate and remote area, the idea of a burglar wasn’t far-fetched. In fact, Yu Sheng almost wished it were just a thief—at least thieves could be beaten down with a baton, unlike a one-meter-tall frog.

Yet the living room remained silent—no signs of an intruder, no sounds of movement.

On the bright side, there were no frog noises either.

Taking advantage of the dim glow from the streetlamp outside, Yu Sheng lowered his posture and moved cautiously, navigating to the wall switch. He flicked on the light, and his eyes blazed with sharp vigilance, sweeping across the room.

He blinked. Something felt off about his field of vision, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Regardless, the room was now lit, and he could clearly see the living room’s state.

Keeping his body slightly crouched and the baton in hand, he began checking every corner of the house.

The first floor consisted of the living room, kitchen, dining area, and an unused storage room—everything was in order.

He hesitated at the foot of the staircase before making his way up to the second floor.

There were three rooms upstairs—his current bedroom, a storage room full of miscellaneous items, and the locked room at the end of the hall.

When Yu Sheng first moved into the Big Manor, that room had already been locked, and despite searching every inch of the mansion, he never found the key.

He checked his bedroom and the opposite storage room first, both normal. Then he approached the locked door at the end of the hallway.

As always, the door remained tightly shut.

Truth be told, Yu Sheng had attempted numerous ways to deal with the lock, from using a power drill to wielding a handheld chainsaw, but none of his efforts succeeded—the drill bits and saw teeth dulled and sparked without leaving a single mark on the seemingly fragile wooden door.

He even tried professional help, contacting several locksmith masters. The first two got lost wandering the Old Residential Area Behind the Commercial Zone and never found Wutong Road No. 66. The third one got hit by a motorcycle just past the intersection and only recently got out of the hospital.

It felt as if some unseen force actively prevented Yu Sheng from opening that room.

This manor was his only safe haven in the entire city, yet even it had its share of unsettling oddities.

He reached out and grasped the doorknob, attempting to twist it—it didn’t budge an inch.

Nothing unexpected happened; it was still locked.

But whether it was his imagination or not, when he futilely tried to turn the handle, he thought he heard a faint, mocking laugh coming from the other side—a young woman’s voice, as if laughing at his helplessness against a mere door.

Goosebumps erupted all over his skin!

In this manor—his supposed sanctuary that he had lived in for two months—this locked room… Was there someone inside all along?

…How hadn’t she starved to death?

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