Finishing his work but having to stay alone on the eleventh floor, he wanted to find someone to keep him company, but those people were all unusually cold, and after finishing their work, they all fawned and gathered on the seventh floor where Caleb Turner was.

Hurry up, hurry up, soon he could go downstairs to find Caleb Turner and join them.

Thinking this, Samuel Brooks finally let out a huge sigh of relief after clicking save, collapsing into his chair, completely exhausted.

He had finished his work.

When Samuel Brooks looked up, he was surprised to find that the wall clock showed it was already past five in the morning.

He was off work!

Samuel Brooks froze for a moment, then was overjoyed—he had unknowingly finished work while buried in his tasks.

Samuel Brooks immediately abandoned his plan to go to the seventh floor to find Caleb Turner and the others, shut down his computer, and leisurely walked toward the elevator.

Although that blind guy had warned him not to go near the elevator during work hours, it was off work now—there wouldn’t be any ghosts.

Samuel Brooks stepped into the elevator.

He didn’t even have time to wonder why his phone app hadn’t reminded him it was time to get off work.

On the white wall behind him, the clock’s hands spun rapidly in reverse, finally stopping at... 3:50 a.m.

Chapter 7 Red-Clothed Vengeful Spirit (6)

Samuel Brooks pressed the button for the seventh floor, watched the elevator doors close, and started feeling for his lighter and cigarettes as his craving kicked in.

It was off work—he wouldn’t run into ghosts. Thinking this, Samuel Brooks completely relaxed.

“Huh, where are my cigarettes?” Samuel Brooks only found his lighter, searched everywhere for his cigarettes, and when he looked down, found that the cigarette pack that had been in his pants pocket was now lying on the floor.

“When did I drop it? How come I didn’t hear anything?”

Puzzled, Samuel Brooks picked it up, lit a cigarette, and was just about to take a comfortable drag when one or two drops of water suddenly dripped from the top of the elevator, landing right on the tip of his freshly lit cigarette, instantly putting it out.

“What kind of crappy elevator leaks water?!” Samuel Brooks cursed, looking up, but didn’t see where the water was coming from.

There were clearly no gaps in the elevator ceiling.

“Where’s the water coming from?” Samuel Brooks muttered to himself, lit another cigarette, and this time, having learned his lesson, moved to stand in the corner of the elevator—this way, even if it leaked again, it wouldn’t drip on his cigarette.

Strangely enough... his cigarette was once again extinguished by water dripping from the top of the elevator.

A sense of foreboding swept through Samuel Brooks. Mechanically and slowly, he looked up—only to meet a ghastly pale ghostly face!

A female ghost was hanging from the top of the elevator, drool continuously dripping from her mouth.

“Drip, drip, drip...”

...

Meanwhile, outside the horror movie:

[first blood]

[Your ceiling is leaking, look up, it’s drool]

[Congratulations to the red-clothed vengeful spirit for scoring the first kill. Don’t get cocky, keep up the good work and achieve even greater results]

[This guy is really dumb, the little brother already had someone warn him not to take the elevator, so he can’t complain about dying]

[Who would have thought the ghost would secretly change the time? After all, in his mind, it was after work and there was no danger]

[Besides, would you believe a blind guy’s words?]

[Don’t forget, even though the female ghost seems to only be able to kill in the elevator, there’s still a ghost baby outside. I think that ghost baby is way scarier than the female ghost]

[Show the little brother! His sleeping posture is so cute, I want to watch his sleep stream]

...

At the same time, on the fifth floor.

Owen Grant gently nudged the sleeping Ethan Clark on the sofa: “Mr. Clark, wake up, it’s time to get off work.”

Ethan Clark frowned slightly, refusing to open his eyes, hugged his pillow, and rolled over to keep sleeping: “The app didn’t go off, it’s not time yet.”

Owen Grant wouldn’t give up: “It really is time! I can’t see, but a newcomer from the seventh floor just came down and specially reminded me!”

As Owen Grant spoke, he suddenly went “huh”: “Mr. Clark, you might be right... That’s strange, with how user-friendly the app is, we should have gotten a notification when it was time to get off work. Plus, it’s the first day, the story should update, we should have gotten a message—what’s going on...”

Ethan Clark mumbled, “The clock, there’s something wrong with the clock.”

Unable to stand Owen Grant nagging any longer, he resignedly sat up and glanced at the clock.

It really was 5:03 a.m.

Ethan Clark stared at it for a few seconds, then let out a soft snort: “The app can’t lie, so either the clock is broken, or... the ghost is lying.”

Owen Grant was instantly enlightened, opened his yin-yang eyes, and the next second screamed, hiding behind Ethan Clark: “Mr. Clark! There’s a ghost hand in the clock!”

In Owen Grant’s vision, a ghostly hand was inside the wall clock, patiently nudging the minute hand forward bit by bit.

It was a female ghost’s hand, the skin waxy, oily and deathly pale, with burgundy nail polish on the nails.

As if sensing it had been discovered, the ghost hand paused for two seconds, then darted back behind the clock like a loach, disappearing.

The wall clock instantly returned to normal, showing the real time—3:50 a.m.

Owen Grant was still shaken, gasping for breath.

They hadn’t gotten off work at all!

It was the ghost, silently and slowly moving the minute hand forward, making it look like it was past five and tricking them into thinking they were off work.

Ethan Clark could guess what Owen Grant had seen, yawned lazily, and seemed rather indifferent.