Chapter 147: Illusion

Ding! The elevator ascended to the indicated fourteenth floor and stopped. Ka! The two heavy elevator doors slid into their slots, revealing two vigilant police officers inside.

Jeffrey pressed the open door button next to him to keep the elevator stationary.

"Are we just waiting here, buddy?" Beck asked doubtfully, unable to discern any issue with the actual thirteenth floor.

"Hmm,"

Remembering the priest's instructions, Jeffrey felt it best to stay put, even though he saw no anomalies.

"Damn, I can't see anything."

Beck looked at the thirteenth floor, its spacious hall and corridors, and muttered before glancing at the humidifier at his feet.

"Including this thing, I have no idea what it's supposed to do."

Jeffrey glanced at him, uttering a stark reality that instantly sobered Beck.

"If you knew, you wouldn't be standing here afraid to move. Why don't you go up and try?"

Beck's face twitched, casting a resentful look at his partner.

Jeffrey simply ignored it, continuing to watch the thirteenth floor.

The next second, before anyone appeared, footsteps echoed.

With the priest there, Jeffrey, who was already tense, suddenly became more alert, focusing on the front.

Beck, reacting instinctively, quickly drew his Glock 19 and aimed it forward.

Thump, thump, thump, the footsteps grew closer.

Then, the priest's voice, along with the footsteps, reached them.

"It's me."

Beck and Jeffrey exchanged a look, understanding each other perfectly. Beck didn't relax, his gun still aimed at the empty space ahead.

Suddenly, hands emerged from the void, swiftly and accurately reaching for his gun. Beck was startled, immediately pulling the trigger, only to find his hand empty.

Whoosh! Jeffrey also drew his gun at lightning speed, but halted at the sudden appearance of a robust figure in the elevator.

"Father York?"

Jeffrey breathed rapidly, his gun still aimed, the situation eerily unsettling. Clearly, there was no one visible, yet someone suddenly appeared.

Facing Jeffrey's aimed gun, York smiled nonchalantly, tossing the Glock 19 back into the terrified Beck's arms.

"Nice gun."

Then, under their shocked and wary eyes, York picked up the humidifier and stepped out of the elevator again.

Combining the recent event with the changing time on his phone, York realized the entire thirteenth floor was engulfed in illusions. Thus, what he saw might not truly be as it appeared, for in this illusionary space, an actual bathroom could appear as a living room to him,

Or perhaps nothing at all, yet your eyes see a living room.

Or maybe you've just stepped into the illusionary space created by the room's spirit.

Under these circumstances, only items brought from outside, like the humidifier and the last bottle of holy water he held, including the backpack he carried, were real.

Glancing at the backpack quietly resting on the sofa, York remained still, pouring the last bottle of holy water into the humidifier.

"I want to see how you resist this move." Muttering to himself, York enchanted the working humidifier.

He needed a humidifier for this reason: to amplify the essence of the enchantment, allowing the humidifier to evaporate water at an explosive rate, performing the work of dozens of humidifiers.

[20 magic points used] [...] Twenty points equate to twenty times the power, so an enchantment of twenty points on the humidifier is equivalent to the effect of twenty humidifiers.

As the prompt sounded, under York's perception, the humidifier immediately produced moisture, rapidly evaporating the holy water and spreading it throughout the air.

He looked ahead, the room before him gradually shifting back to the appearance of a corridor.

York's mouth twitched, realizing he had only walked about ten steps.

"Impressive, no wonder those victims were tormented to the point of suicide for relief."

Thinking back to the room, York couldn't help but sigh, carrying the now twenty-times more effective humidifier like a hunter seeking prey, following the spreading mist everywhere to ensure every part of suite 1408's illusionary space was dispelled, revealing its true form...

Finally, only the bathroom remained, but the humidifier's holy water had evaporated completely, signaling loudly.

York, expressionless, placed the humidifier on the floor, took out another bottle of holy water from his backpack, poured it into the humidifier, and proceeded to fill it up again.

According to the victims' records, this bathroom had witnessed wrist slashing and throat cutting suicides. Since the suite had never been cleaned from the start, the bathroom couldn't possibly be this clean.

"In here! This must be your only sanctuary, right?"

York stopped in the bathroom, his eyes narrowing, placing the humidifier on the ground, allowing the mist to quickly fill the entire bathroom.

As the mist spread, the bathroom walls began to peel, revealing its original appearance, stained with blood...

"Here!"

York's gun aimed at a shadow in the corner, firing.

Boom! The seen shadow vanished instantly, hitting the wall instead, creating a mess of debris. However, York also heard an almost imperceptible scream,

Confirming this was the so-called spirit of the room's location, York was about to continue firing to exorcise it.

The next second, unexpectedly, the scenery changed in a blink, presenting a new space.

"Huh?"

York stood, stunned, looking around the familiar yet strange setup. His pupils slightly shook.

The once dirty bathroom now appeared as a moderately sized room.

A bookshelf filled with medical literature and trophies lined one wall, next to a wardrobe for hanging clothes. Opposite was a bed, beside which stood a desk with a computer, and by the window, a vase.

York looked down at his hands; the revolver grenade launcher had disappeared, and in his right hand, he now held a small watering can.

Memories buried deep in his mind surfaced; this was his room in his previous life.

Then, a long-lost voice echoed.

"Son, dinner's ready!"

That was the voice of his mother from his previous life. York pursed his lips, his gaze fixed on the flower pot, his face showing hesitation for the first time.

Although he knew the current scene was fake, possibly the room's spirit's last resort to create an illusion from his deepest memories, creating a scene he longed for,

York took a deep breath, looked at the clock on the computer desk, closed his eyes, and eventually put down the watering can.

"I'll let you live a bit longer!"

Honestly, he did want to see his parents appear before him, even if it was fake, because it was an opportunity to see them with his own eyes, not just in memory.

"Are you not coming down yet?" The long-lost voice sounded again, and for once, York, or Ning Weize, felt a surge of emotion, disrupting his usually steady mood.

"Sigh!"

York, or Ning Weize, exhaled once more, forcing down the emotions that had suddenly risen, glanced at the flower pot with its vividly alive plant, turned, and headed downstairs.

"Coming, Mom!"

"..."

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