Chapter 640: This Was Done by the Same Person
Even though she controlled the hotel, An Ran was still just an ordinary woman—at least before the apocalypse. She didn’t know whether there were simply too many rooms, or if she just hadn’t been thorough enough. Doors kept opening and closing, people were panicking and dashing about—it was chaos.
Before she even knew what Chen Chaofa looked like, her mind was already muddled by the various faces and methods survivors described—every murderer looked different, every situation sounded different.
Even when she saw Chen Chaofa’s portrait, An Ran felt nothing. She was certain—she’d never seen him before.
“I heard from the survivors that some of the murderers were their own relatives,” Yun Tao said. He shook his head, unable to find any pattern.
If they were all part of the same group, they should have some shared motive—like resentment toward the leader. But those who knocked on doors and killed included lovers, brothers, even people with no connection at all.
“It was one person,” Zhan Lian said. His brows were furrowed.
He had personally examined all the corpses that hadn’t yet been digested by An Ran’s plants. From the perspective of a professional killer, the wounds varied greatly, the weapons were different, the methods inconsistent. But if one ignored the survivors’ statements and only looked at the bodies—those differences became meaningless.
Every corpse carried the same attitude from the murderer: Human life was nothing but a joke.
Zhan Lian was certain—it was all done by the same person.
From the beginning, he suspected Chen Chaofa might have a special ability—something that allowed him to enter rooms invisibly. Each time someone knocked, Chen Chaofa could silently follow behind and slaughter everyone inside.
After all, almost no one survived. Those who did had no idea what truly happened inside their rooms. Some said their brothers were stabbing them. Others said their wives, lovers, or parents were killing them.
The killers all looked different—but the cruelty was identical.
To this murderer, the elderly, women, children—even the pregnant—were no different. They were all targets.
One person alone had massacred so many rooms.
Silence fell over An Ran and the others.
Outside the teahouse, Jingxuan and the rest grew louder and louder. People crowded toward the door. At first, they didn’t dare enter—but soon, no one dared step in at all.
Everyone was discussing nervously when a voice suddenly shouted from the crowd: “Did you people seal the fourth-floor exit?!”
The voice was full of anger.
The first floor was buried in snow and ice. The only escape route from the Grand Fortune Hotel was through the fourth-floor doors and windows.
But now those exits were sealed shut—and rooms were being slaughtered one after another. Everyone feared they would be next.
People wanted out. And resentment began to grow toward whoever sealed the exits.
One complaint triggered many. Voices rose. The crowd stirred restlessly.
In An Ran’s arms, Doll began to fuss in her sleep, as if about to wake.
An Ran frowned and turned. The green vines around the teahouse entrance had thickened, quietly extending outward.
Zhan Lian reached out, gently gripping An Ran’s shoulders. He lowered his voice. “The situation is getting complicated. You two should get out first.”