Chapter 1

The crimson lips, the hazy night;

Tonight,

belongs to indulgence;

In the center of the dance floor, men and women shook their bodies to the rhythm of the music, their white thighs and sweat-soaked chests, the allure of femininity and the testosterone of masculinity, intertwining into a vortex that drove one to madness.

In a corner of the dance floor, a man in Nike sportswear sat there, a cigarette and a bottle of alcohol in front of him. The heat and noise around him seemed to have no effect on him; he subconsciously hid his face in the dark corner of the light.

Not a few fiery dancers approached him to invite him to dance, but he coldly rejected them all. He seemed out of place in this environment.

A woman in a white-collar work uniform covered her mouth and rushed out of the dance floor to the restroom.

At this moment, the man picked up the cigarette from the table, put it in his pocket, stood up, and walked towards the restroom, like a hunter waiting for his prey, now beginning to track it down.

The woman rushed into the restroom and immediately started vomiting at the sink. The restroom was soon filled with a sour smell. She turned on the tap, rinsed the sink, and splashed a handful of water on her face.

The cold water on her face momentarily cleared her mind, which had been ignited by the dance floor. However, when she opened her eyes again, she was startled by the figure behind her in the mirror.

"You......"

The woman tried to speak but couldn't. The other person's two fingers had already locked around her neck, preventing her from making a sound. The other person's movements were so familiar, as if they were doing something they did all the time, without any effort, just naturally.

At the same time, the other person's other hand raised, holding a knife.

"Although I don't like to talk much, it's a rule of the club that I must say: your sins have escaped the punishment of the secular world, but they cannot escape our judgment."

"Poof..."

Without much preamble, the blade quickly pierced the woman's chest and turned clockwise.

The man's palm pressed against the wound to prevent the blood from splattering.

The woman's body trembled twice and then collapsed to the ground as the man let go.

The man began to rinse his knife and hands with water from the sink, then, looking in the mirror, he straightened his clothes.

He did everything meticulously and systematically.

A young but pale face appeared in the mirror, handsome with a hint of unusual excitement. This must be because he had just killed someone; killing always gave him this kind of pleasure.

He was also addicted to the feeling of killing, even as if he were hooked on a drug, unable to break free.

The woman on the ground still had her eyes open, unable to rest in peace.

The man took a small bag from his pocket, filled with heroin.

He didn't use it because the pleasure from drugs was far less intense than the thrill of killing.

"Snap..."

The small bag was torn open, and the heroin was scattered around the woman's body.

The man then threw the bag next to the body.

This nightclub was not clean, and the man was sure that the owner, upon discovering a woman's body surrounded by drugs, would not think of protecting the scene and calling the police.

Finally, he took a deep look at the woman's body, took a deep breath, and savored the last moments of the afterglow of the killing. His face finally returned to normal. He smiled at the mirror, confirming that his smile was natural and not forced. He pushed open the door of the women's restroom, moved the "Cleaning in Progress" sign, and walked out.

Throughout, he was sure he had avoided all the camera angles and had not drawn attention from anyone around him. Of course, he had left many traces while killing, but he believed the nightclub owner, worried about being implicated, would clean up for him, or at the very least, dispose of the body. This way, he could be at ease.

As he walked out of the nightclub, a cold wind hit him, making him shiver. It was as if he had just returned from heaven to the real world. Yes, that nightclub, that restroom, and that woman's body were heaven to him, for they gave him the warm and comfortable feeling that only heaven could provide.

"Life is beautiful."

The man muttered to himself, his voice a bit hoarse.

He took out his phone, opened the ride-hailing app, and called a car.

Soon, a driver accepted the order and called him.

"Hello, is this Mr. Su Bai? Is your location correct? You're at the roadside behind the Passion Nightclub, right?"

Su Bai frowned slightly. This ride-hailing app automatically displayed his registered name to the driver, which he found distasteful. Now, after releasing his suppressed emotions, he was very clear-headed. He knew that the farther his name was from this place tonight, the better.

"Yes, I'm here."

Su Bai replied, checking the time, pulling up the collar of his sportswear, and putting on the cap to hide most of his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

"Okay, I'll be right there."

The driver hung up, but Su Bai's eyes narrowed slightly.

The driver's tone during the call had been very urgent, not the kind of breathlessness from just exercising, but the kind of emotional失控 that comes after experiencing something terrifying.

His mind had already cooled down after the killing.

Su Bai was now very sensitive.

Three minutes later, a black Audi stopped.

The driver was about thirty, with messy hair and bread crumbs on his clothes, a typical image of a private car owner working late at night. However, Su Bai saw through the window that there were several unextinguished cigarette butts under the driver's seat, flickering.

A private car owner working late at night, yet showing no care for his car, usually people wouldn't let the smoke smell in their beloved car, but he casually threw the unextinguished cigarette butts under the seat.

"Get in, young man." The driver smiled and waved at Su Bai.

Su Bai nodded. Instead of going to the back seat, he chose to sit in the front passenger seat.

"You've arrived at your destination. The passenger is in the car. Navigation is starting."

The driver skillfully started the car and offered a pack of cigarettes.

"Want a smoke, buddy?"

Su Bai shook his head and took out his own cigarettes.

"I have my own."

"Smoke mine, it's the same." The driver was very enthusiastic.

"No, thanks."

"Come on, don't be shy, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke!"

The driver's tone became more urgent, but he didn't seem to realize his own behavior.

Su Bai nodded and took a cigarette from the driver's pack.

The driver happily returned his gaze to the road and continued driving.

The car radio was playing a midnight golden hits program, singing Teresa Teng's "Sweet Honey," but halfway through, there was static.

"Welcome to the Horror Radio Program. I am the host, and I have no name, because here, names have no meaning."

The driver slapped the screen. "What kind of nonsense is this, fooling kids?"

The driver tried to change the channel, but his finger pressing the screen had no effect, stuck on that channel.

"Broken? Frozen?"

The driver muttered, repeatedly tapping the screen, even using his fist to hit it.

Su Bai slowly picked up his cigarette, his other hand silently gripping the knife in his pocket, the one he had just used to kill. The driver was clearly in an inexplicable emotional state, reminding him of himself the first time he killed.

"This is today's ghost story. I hope the listeners will calm down and listen carefully.

In a private car, there are two people, brought together by a ride-hailing app. The owner is a thirty-one-year-old man working in insurance, and the passenger in the front seat is a twenty-two-year-old college student.

This is nothing unusual, right?

Now, many people work in insurance, and it's a relaxed job. Even without running business, they can get a monthly salary by just reporting in every day. Of course, without performance, the salary won't be much, so this driver has to drive at night to supplement his income.

The college student, who can be considered excellent, but not overly special.

But the twist in the story happens here.

This driver has just fled the scene of a hit-and-run. He just hit and killed a girl crossing the street and then drove away. In a state of shock, he accepted this order."

The driver froze, looking at the screen in disbelief, then slowly turned his head to look at Su Bai in the front seat.

Su Bai saw shock, fear, and a hint of hysteria in the driver's eyes.

The radio continued:

"And the college student in the front seat is a serial killer. He must kill someone every so often to relieve the pressure building up inside him. Just now, he killed a female white-collar worker in the restroom of a place called 'Passion Nightclub.'"

The driver immediately retreated to the side of the door, looking at Su Bai as if he were a demon.

Yes, he had fled the scene, but he didn't intend to kill. And the passenger he had picked up was a murderer!

The radio paused for a moment, then deliberately lowered its voice:

"Next, let this story reach its climax..."

"Bang!"

Both the driver and Su Bai looked at the front windshield. A girl with a distorted face, half of it caved in, was pressed against the glass, her remaining eye staring at the people inside, smiling foolishly.

Immediately, Su Bai felt a chill behind him. He silently turned his head and saw a woman sitting in the back seat, a bloody knife wound in her chest, black blood still flowing out.

Seemingly noticing Su Bai's gaze, the woman opened her mouth and started to laugh:

"Hehehehe......"