Only after the attackers vanished into the night did Er'gou finally relax.
The husky turned and padded back to Lin Wan.
His icy blue eyes, moments ago burning with savage fury, softened the instant they landed on her injured forehead. A swelling bruise. A thin line of blood.
Concern replaced violence.
He stepped closer and gently nudged her knee with his cold, wet nose, releasing a low, soothing rumble from his throat.
Lin Wan's trembling fingers sank into his thick fur.
"I'm fine…" she whispered, though her voice shook. "What about you? Did you hit anything?"
Er'gou shook his head. His tail swayed slightly—hesitant, cautious—like he was confirming she was truly okay.
Lin Wan pulled him closer anyway, running quick, nervous checks along his body. Aside from messy fur and lingering tension, there were no obvious wounds.
Relief washed through her.
Then the pain hit.
"—Tss!"
She sucked in a breath, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Er'gou immediately pushed his head into her palm again, eyes sharp with urgency.
Take care of yourself.
Lin Wan forced a crooked smile and dug out a wet wipe from her bag, wiping away blood and dust. Outside the car window, the glittering cityscape faded.
Neon gave way to darkness.
Skyscrapers shrank into crumbling buildings.
They were entering the Old Harbor District.
The name didn't lie.
The air thickened with an oppressive cocktail of smells—salt-heavy sea wind laced with rot, rust, engine oil, and the faint sting of chemical waste. Broken streetlights flickered weakly. The road turned uneven, scarred by time.
Abandoned warehouses loomed like sleeping beasts.
Shuttered repair shops.
Run-down motels with dying signs buzzing in sickly colors.
Desolation.
According to the vague map marker, they stopped before Warehouse No. 7.
It stood alone.
A colossal iron structure, corroded and scarred, crouching beside black, oil-slicked dock water. Wild grass choked the surrounding lot. The main gate was sealed with a monstrous rusted padlock.
The stench was unbearable.
Rust.
Old fish.
Decay.
The driver refused to move an inch closer.
"Miss Lin… this is as far as I go," he said, pale-faced. "Please… be careful."
Lin Wan paid double.
Watched the car speed away like it had seen a ghost.
Silence swallowed the world.
Only wind.
Distant waves crashing.
Insects hidden in the weeds.
She lifted the reinforced carrier, Er'gou glaring from inside. He had insisted on walking, but Lin Wan had forced him back in. Too dangerous.
One deep breath of poisoned air.
Then she walked toward Warehouse 7.
The ground beneath her feet was soft, littered with sand, broken shells, and trash. With every step, the smell intensified until it felt like something alive—clinging to skin, invading lungs.
She reached the gate.
Locked.
She tried the side entrance.
Locked.
The notebook had given coordinates.
No key.
Lin Wan scanned the area, jaw tight. "Great… now what?"
Behind her—
SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH!
Er'gou exploded into frantic movement inside the carrier.
She quickly set it down and opened it.
The husky burst out like a released spring—but instead of bolting, he ran straight toward the warehouse wall.
One specific corner.
Paint peeled away. Red bricks exposed. Rotten crates and torn fishing nets rotted nearby. The stench was suffocating.
Er'gou lowered his head.
Nose to ground.
To wall.
Every muscle locked in absolute focus.
Gone was the lazy arrogance.
Gone was the comic disdain.
What remained was something terrifyingly precise.
Professional.
He moved slowly along the base of the wall, nostrils flaring, tail frozen. Five meters. Six.
Then—
He stopped.
The ground here was darker, stained by long-term corrosion. The smell was sharper.
Rust… and beneath it—
A faint trace.
Strange.
Sweet yet spicy.
Like sandalwood twisted with medicinal herbs.
Lin Wan blinked.
She could barely detect it, but once noticed, it was unmistakable.
A scent that didn't belong.
Er'gou gave a series of short, decisive growls.
Then started digging.
Lin Wan's pulse spiked. She knelt and helped, fingers tearing through sand and gravel.
Metal.
A concealed hatch.
Rust-eaten, just large enough for a person.
No lock.
Only a simple latch.
Recently touched.
Lin Wan pulled.
The hatch creaked open.
A wave of cold, stale air surged out, saturated with that eerie fragrance.
Below—
Darkness.
A ladder descending into black.
Er'gou didn't hesitate.
He jumped down first.
Looked up.
A low "woof."
Follow me.
Lin Wan swallowed hard.
Turned on her phone flashlight.
Climbed down.
The underground passage was narrow, forcing her to hunch. Concrete walls sweated with moisture. Mold crawled in black patches. The smell of rust and fish lingered, but the strange incense-like scent now threaded clearly through the air.
A guide.
A warning.
Er'gou led the way, nose working relentlessly.
Left turn.
Right.
Forward.
Minutes stretched.
Then—
A half-open iron door appeared ahead.
The scent peaked.
Er'gou pushed it open.
Inside—
A small hidden chamber.
Dust-choked machinery parts.
Rotting sacks.
A rusted iron bedframe.
And at the center—
A trembling wooden table.
Upon it burned a single oil lamp, its glass blackened with soot.
Under the dim amber glow—
Someone sat.
Waiting.