The gates of Wudu Mental Hospital were already unlocked before the convoy of the Spirit Communicator Association arrived.

It was Deke's Shadow Snake threads that silently slipped through the crack and lifted the latch.

Dozens of people leapt out of the vehicles, their steps hurried but composed, forming three attack groups swiftly at the gate.

The president stood at the front, with two headquarters supporters flanking him, Harding and Deke at the rear wings.

The other elites dispersed according to their predetermined positions, bringing every exit of the building under surveillance.

However, when the team truly entered the hospital lobby, everyone was taken aback.

The expected eerie and terrifying scene was nowhere to be found.

The floor of the lobby was covered with light-colored non-slip tiles, very clean, reflecting the soft white light of the overhead fluorescent lamps.

The walls were a warm shade of beige, with several brightly colored landscape paintings depicting Wudu's harbor and a distant lighthouse.

A slogan promoting "mental care, life protection" adorned the wall behind the reception desk, with rounded, cute fonts and a smiling cartoon heart beside it.

Occasionally, nurses passed by with patients who looked surprised upon seeing them.

Given the Spirit Communicator Association's elite's expectations, since this place had become a den of cultists, it should at least appear deserted and dilapidated if not filled with remnants of devastation.

But the scene before them... completely did not resemble an invasion.

Some of the association's elite, upon seeing the scene, began to have an acute reaction, suspecting it was a fa?ade by the cultists, instinctively wanting to launch an attack.

Fortunately, the president, experienced and knowledgeable, gestured to halt their further actions.

The nurse on duty at the front desk saw a group of people in navy blue uniforms with serious expressions crowding in, dropping her pen onto the desk.

She opened her mouth, attempting to say something, only to notice the badge on the chest of the elderly man at the forefront was larger than any she had seen in the association's brochure.

"This... gentlemen, may I ask who you are..." Her voice trembled slightly but still strived to maintain professional politeness.

The president did not answer her question,

Instead, he took out a document stamped with the Spirit Communicator Association headquarters seal from inside his uniform and placed it on the reception desk, his movements unhurried like he was handling a routine affair.

"Per the emergency authorization from the association headquarters, this building needs to be evacuated immediately. All personnel, including patients, nurses, doctors, and staff, are to move to the designated safe area within fifteen minutes."

The nurse glanced at the document, her pupils contracted.

Her hand started to tremble but she forced herself to calm down within seconds, picking up the phone on the desk and pressing the button for the entire hospital broadcast.

"Attention everyone, attention. All departments are to initiate emergency evacuation protocols immediately. Repeating, all departments are to initiate emergency evacuation protocols immediately. This is not a drill, this is not a drill."

The broadcast echoed throughout the building, its tone steady but twice as fast as usual.

The elites began their actions simultaneously as the broadcast sounded.

Harding led a team swiftly through the corridors, checking each room for patients and medical staff.

With keen eyes, he discerned any possible cultist remnants, while guiding them out through the nearest safe passage.

Deke and another team rushed to the underground floors, setting up Shadow Snake threads at every staircase and door, ensuring no suspicious persons would escape during the evacuation chaos.

The president and two headquarters supporters stood in the center of the lobby, their gaze fixed on the staircase right ahead.

The staircase was ordinary.

Marble steps, brass handrails, walls the same beige as the lobby.

Leading from the first to the second floor, a total of twelve steps... no, thirteen.

The president's gaze lingered on the thirteenth step for a moment, then swept through again.

One, two, three... eleven, twelve, thirteen.

Thirteen steps.

He squinted slightly.

"Prophet." He spoke in a low voice.

The Prophet stood two steps behind him.

He was a man whose age couldn't be determined, thin, pale, in an unmarked gray trench coat, its collar turned up, hiding half his face.

His eyes were an almost transparent gray, his pupils showing no focus, as if observing a layer of the world unseen by others.

"Found it." The Prophet's voice was light, as if coming from afar, "The entrance to the alternate space is on this step. It is the step known as the 'extra one'. It's called 'Step', an anomaly of hazard level."

Deke hurriedly returned from the direction of the basement, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He paused at the mention of "Step".

"Step? You mean... the extra step?"

The president nodded.

He had heard of such anomalies, existing as abnormal phenomena on staircases.

It might appear on any set of stairs.

Originally comprising only twelve steps, it silently emerges at the thirteenth position.

It blends seamlessly with neighboring steps, in material, color, wear, indistinguishable even by touch.

Their triggering mechanism is unique.

Anyone carefully counting the steps from the First Level and inadvertently counts an extra step.

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