The bedroom of Room 404 in the post office seemed more crowded than usual tonight.
Yang Jian, Li Yang, Wang Shan, Yang Xiaohua, Leuk Qingqing, Eagle, and the three couriers who were hiding in the wardrobe earlier made for a total of nine people.
Yet, this group was splintered into several smaller factions.
Yang Jian and Li Yang formed one group, Leuk Qingqing and Eagle another, while Wang Feng, Qu Hongtao, and the other two couriers made their own alliance. As for Yang Xiaohua and Wang Shan, they were just irrelevant ordinary people who could switch sides at any moment just to survive—true opportunists swaying with the wind.
The silent, somber atmosphere inside the room felt strange.
Although everyone seemed to be at peace, their inner thoughts were far from certain.
Outside the door,
hurried footsteps continued to pace back and forth.
The ghost remained outside, lingering by the door without leaving.
