Midnight.  

A fierce wind knocked over the flowerpot on the balcony.  

It crashed to the ground with a loud bang.  

Galaxy Courier jolted in fright, her heart pounding violently as she tightened her grip on the blanket, not daring to make a sound.  

“Wuuu… wuuu…” 

The faint, shrill weeping outside began right on time. In the dead silence of the night, it felt to Galaxy Courier as if a woman was crying directly into her ear.  

Goosebumps instantly prickled across her skin.  

Even though Huo Ning had already assured her that there were no ghosts in her room, Galaxy Courier’s heart still lodged itself in her throat.  

Click.

The power went out.  

The air conditioner shut off, and the remaining cool air wouldn’t last long in the room.  

Clutching her phone in the darkness, Galaxy Courier sat up and turned on the rechargeable nightlight on her bedside table. As the dim glow flickered to life, she finally exhaled in relief.  

Then—the eerie, hollow wailing exploded in her ears again.  

Her heart hammered wildly, as if it might leap out of her chest.  

Trembling, she opened Peppercorn Live. Even at this hour, a dozen night owls were still awake, chatting in the comments.  

[Hey, isn’t this the girl who’s supposed to have a major calamity tonight?]

[Remember, sis—Master Huo said no matter what happens, you can’t open the door!]

Most of her viewers had come from Huo Ning’s livestream.  

They were all intensely curious about the “great calamity” she was fated to face tonight.  

Some were genuinely worried for her safety, hoping to hear she’d made it through the night.  

Reading their messages, Galaxy Courier’s anxiety eased slightly.  

She typed out a few lines:  

[Galaxy Courier: Thank you, everyone. I won’t open the door. It’s just… that strange sound is back outside my room, and the power’s out. I’m really scared, so I wanted to talk to you all.] 

[Galaxy Courier: I don’t know what’s out there, and I’m afraid of alerting it. I can only text—hope you don’t mind.]

[Don’t worry, sis! We don’t mind at all. How about this—keep your stream on, and we’ll stay with you tonight.] 

[I’m not sleeping. I’ll guard your livestream. If anything happens, I’ll call the police immediately.]

Galaxy Courier’s throat tightened, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

These internet strangers were so kind.  

Just as she was about to thank them, a frantic knocking suddenly erupted at her door.  

Her hands jerked in shock, sending her phone tumbling onto the bed.  

Every hair on her body stood on end. Instinctively, she grabbed the large scissors from her desk, holding her breath.  

“Is anyone there? Please—help me! Open the door!”

A weak, desperate plea echoed from outside.  

It sounded like a girl—young, probably not much older than herself.  

Galaxy trembled as she picked up her phone again.  

Logically, this was a cry for help. But instead of sympathy, an icy dread crawled up her spine, her shirt clinging to her back with cold sweat.  

She forced her breathing to stay shallow, silent.  

The longer she hesitated, the more frantic the knocking became—urgent, even panicked.  

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each strike felt like a hammer driving straight into her chest.  

“My husband—he’s attacking me! He just grabbed a kitchen knife! Please, I’m begging you, let me in!”

The girl outside sobbed hysterically, her wails growing louder, her fists pounding wildly against the door.  

Galaxy’s face paled, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple.  

She stared at the door, teeth sinking into her lower lip, torn between instinct and reason.  

Her entire life, she’d been taught to help others—to never turn away from someone in need.  

A voice inside her screamed: She’s a girl, just like you. You have to help. If you don’t, you’re no better than a monster.

But cold, hard logic held her back.  

The streamer warned you. Do. Not. Open. That. Door.

Yet…  

Her fingers shook as she finally typed into the chat:  

[Galaxy Courier: There’s a girl outside saying her husband is abusing her. She’s begging me to let her in—says he’s chasing her with a knife. What do I do? Should I open the door?]

Deep down, she didn’t want to.  

But if that girl died tonight because of her inaction…  

She’d never forgive herself.

Just a wall away, yet it stood between another girl and survival.

[DON’T! OPEN! IT! Stop playing the saint—how do you know it’s really a girl out there?!]  

[She says she’s being abused, but did you hear any shouting or sounds of things breaking? If not, then what good would opening the door do? And if they force their way in, do you think you’d be safe?]

[And if you didn’t hear any commotion, that’s even more suspicious. A real victim wouldn’t run to a stranger’s door instead of calling for immediate help. Use your brain and drop that damn savior complex!]

[Do you have surveillance cameras where you live?]

Galaxy Courier froze for a second before realizing—no, her building didn’t have any.  

She lived in an old, low-rent apartment. The upside? Cheap rent.  

The downside? Security was practically nonexistent.  

[No cameras and you’re still acting like a martyr? Bold move!]  

[Go ahead, open it. “Good advice can’t save those hellbent on destruction.”]  

[Ever think that the “great calamity” Master Huo warned you about might be you getting killed tonight for meddling in that woman’s business?]  

Galaxy’s grip on her phone tightened violently.  

That last comment shattered any remaining urge to open the door.  

“Please, I’m begging you! Help me… I—I don’t want to die! He’s coming!” 

“AHH—SOMEONE HELP!”  

The heart-wrenching screams sent a sharp pang through Galaxy’s chest.  

The crushing weight of guilt nearly suffocated her.  

Taking a shaky breath, she silently typed out a text message—since she couldn’t risk a call, she sent an emergency alert to 12110, adding her district code to report the situation.  

“This… this should be enough, right?” 

She whispered to herself, clinging to the frail hope that she’d done the right thing.

Just as she was about to say something to the netizens, another knock suddenly came from outside.  

A kindly old woman’s voice spoke up: “Hello dear, my grandson got married today, and I’m here to share some wedding sweets.”

“Don’t worry, little girl. That woman who was at your door earlier—her family came to pick her up, and her husband ran after them to apologize. You’re safe now.”  

“I’ll just hang the candy on your doorknob. Remember to take it later, okay?”  

Relieved that the woman wasn’t pressuring her to open the door, Galaxy Courier let out a shaky breath.  

Maybe if she just went to sleep, everything would be fine by morning.  

[Why does this sound so familiar? HOLY SH*T—HUMAN TRAFFICKERS!]

[NO WAY, the algorithm’s insane! I just watched a video about new abduction tactics, and now I’m seeing it in real time! Don’t hesitate—CALL THE COPS!]

[OMG, you’re being targeted by a trafficking ring!]

Galaxy Courier was now too terrified to sleep. She quickly sent another emergency text to the police.  

She wondered if any male viewers could voice chat with her—just to pretend to be a family member and scare off the people outside.  

“What’s going on? I saw her come home. Why won’t she open the damn door?”

A man’s voice, low and impatient, cut through the silence.  

“This b*tch is way too cautious. Even now, she won’t budge.” 

Clutching a kitchen knife, Galaxy crouched behind the door, sweat pouring down her forehead.  

She was paralyzed with fear, her body trembling to the point of exhaustion.  

She couldn’t even imagine what would’ve happened if she’d opened that door.  

“Just break it down! Most people here are either working night shifts or useless old folks—no one’s gonna interfere!”