At six o'clock, the post office lights turned off.
This rule seemed to equally apply to the fifth floor of the post office.
Yang Jian and Li Yang were staying in room 507, when suddenly the dimly lit room brightened as if a power source had just been connected. Meanwhile, the outside, which was merely dim earlier, suddenly turned pitch black. The light from the room couldn't extend outwards.
"It's six o'clock now," Li Yang observed, paying attention to the changes around.
Everything in the room was normal. The deliberately left corpse had been disposed of, so there were no ghosts in this room, and it had been repeatedly confirmed as safe.
Yang Jian held a cracked long spear in his hand, his ghost eye glowing red under the dim yellow light, as he moved his body slightly.
