On the rooftop of the public toilet, two men in suits stood overlooking the courtyard below. This time, the younger brother relentlessly scolded the elder brother by his side, while the once confident elder remained speechless with frustration.

　　The man in the black suit said,

　　"Elder Brother, what kind of nonsense have you gotten yourself into?"

　　"I told you just now, let him get hit and die."

　　"But you said you didn't want him to dirty our clothes with his blood."

　　"When people die and become ghosts, they retain their appearance at the moment of death until judgment."

　　"Now look, he's even more filthy than before!"

　　The man in the white suit replied,

　　"Alright, stop blaming me already."

　　"I didn't want it to turn out like this too."

　　"Who knew this guy would die such a disgraceful death?"

　　"It seems we're in deep shit this time, brother."

　　"Stop looking, let's prepare for the soul capture in seven days!"

　　Seven days later...

　　"Hey, you idiot, wake up!"

　　"I'm talking to you, wake up!"

　　"Shift！ I've come to settle the score."

　　A voice as faint as a mosquito echoed around the En Gong's side.

　　As the En Gong heard a subtle voice calling out to him, he drowsily opened his eyes.

　　"What's going on?"

　　"Why am I perfectly fine?"

　　"Did the protagonist's aura come to my rescue?"

　　He rubbed his eyes, searching for the source of that faint voice.

　　"Where are you looking?"

　　"Here, here, I'm right here."

　　The mosquito-like voice circled from the En Gong's ear to right in front of his face. Yet, he still couldn't see anyone in front of him.

　　The En Gong asked,

　　"Where are you?"

　　"Why can I only hear your voice but not see you?"

　　"Can you speak up a bit? You sound like a mosquito."

　　"Haven't you eaten enough? Huh?"

　　The En Gong complained to the invisible voice.

　　The faint voice spoke again.

　　"I'm right in front of your face."

　　"Can you cross your eyes? You'll see me if you do."

　　Half-believing, half-doubting, the En Gong held up his right index finger in front of him, staring intently at it. He slowly moved it towards his nose bridge, and as he took his hand away, he clearly saw the one who was speaking to him. My god... it... it was actually a mosquito, an Aedes mosquito to be precise. Let me educate you, Aedes mosquitoes are those black ones with patterns, and their bites not only itch but also hurt terribly.

　　The En Gong once again held up his index finger, allowing the mosquito to land in front of him for communication.

　　"You just said you wanted to settle the score with me."

　　"What did I do to you?"

　　Upon hearing the En Gong's words, the Aedes mosquito perched on his finger grew agitated, starting to reproach and complain.

　　"I'm a mosquito, I like to live near stagnant water."

　　The En Gong interjected,

　　"Stinky mosquito, stinky mosquito, that's what you mean, right?"

　　The Aedes mosquito retorted,

　　"Can you stop interrupting? Your mouth never stops."

　　Didn't you know the En Gong had a chatterbox mouth? The Yama Lord knew it many days ago; just get used to it.

　　Oh, sorry, I'm interrupting too. Let's continue with what the Aedes mosquito has to say.

　　"That morning seven days ago, I was flying perfectly fine by the pond."

　　"What did I do to deserve this?"

　　"I had just reached the center of the pond when you plummeted down."

　　"Being pushed into the septic tank by your butt."

　　"And then I somehow ended up here with your soul."

　　Upon hearing the word "soul," the En Gong seemed to realize something, taking a closer look at the surroundings.

　　The living room was filled with familiar furnishings.

　　"Isn't this my house?"

　　"Did I really die?"

　　The Aedes mosquito explained to the En Gong,

　　"Not only did you die, but I was dragged down with you."

　　The En Gong was still skeptical about the words of the spotted mosquito, but just as he wondered why he was at home, he clearly heard sobs and a man's sigh outside the door. The sobs were obviously from a young woman, while the man's sigh sounded so familiar.

　　"Lingling, it's been the seventh day already."

　　"Don't be sad."

　　"I'm really comforted that you can cry like this for that child."

　　"The En Gong, that kid, is already dead."

　　"Since he's gone, don't let your sorrow ruin your health."

　　Upon hearing the man's voice outside, the En gong suddenly realized who the two people were—it was Zhao Ling and her father, En zhun.

　　When he turned around and saw his black-and-white photograph on the table behind him, he fully understood and sat down on the ground with a jolt, completely frozen. At that moment, his face was expressionless and empty. But after a few seconds...

　　"Oh... poor me..."

　　"Why do I have such a miserable life..."

　　"Who can tell me what's going on..."

　　Judging from his tears, one might think he had made a living by crying before he died. Now that he knows cry, where was he before? Always meddling in other people's business... truly deserved it!

　　Animals and insects often have keen sixth senses. Looking at the unfortunate En gong sitting on the ground across from him, the spotted mosquito suddenly spoke to him.

　　"Fatty!"

　　"I'm going to hide first, you're on your own."

　　After saying that, the spotted mosquito flew into the En gong's hair. From its tone, it was evident that something was about to happen in this room, or else it wouldn't have endured the stench of the En gong's body just to get close to him.

　　"What are you telling me for?"

　　"Even a fool knows you're dead."

　　"And thoroughly cold."

　　"Look at you, stinking of feces and urine."

　　"My brother and I don't want to take this job anymore."

　　Just as the En gong was sobbing uncontrollably, a chilling voice came from behind him.

　　The En gong slowly turned his head, and inexplicably, he felt fear in his heart.

　　The source of the fear was not the two voices but the sudden chill that filled the entire room after hearing those words. An ominous coldness made him shiver, as if he had been thrown into an ice cave. This description was absolutely accurate; in an instant, the atmosphere of the entire living room had changed. The candles burning on both sides of his portrait were once normal in color, but now the flame had turned completely blue, just like a scene often seen in horror movies.