When stepping onto this suddenly appearing First Level, you will immediately step into emptiness and fall directly from the real world into a Mysterious Space, never able to return.

Actually, this eerie occurrence isn't triggered that easily; most people don't have the leisure to count the number of stairs.

However, some children love to do this, and occasionally, they'll fall for it.

Thus, although the destructive power of such eeriness isn't strong, the impact it has is significant.

The president turned around and glanced at the elite behind him.

"The Prophet and Harding's Third Level group will stay at the entrance. The rest, follow the preset plan, and establish a blockade outside. Without my orders, no one is to enter."

The president turned to the two headquarters support personnel.

The two support members, a man and a woman, didn't speak, merely nodded slightly.

Their gaze returned to the Thirteenth Level step.

The president took the first step.

He walked slowly, it could even be said very slowly.

Then the Second Level, Third Level... he was synchronously counting silently in his mind.

He passed the Twelfth Level.

The Thirteenth Level was right beneath his feet.

"Thirteen..."

His foot stepped onto it.

At that moment, the surface of the marble step rippled like water.

The center of the step seemed to be pressed into by some force, creating a pit that grew deeper and eventually became a vertically descending endless passage.

The two headquarters support personnel followed behind the president, the three of them stepped into the passage.

Their figures disappeared instantly upon entering the passage, and the surface of the steps returned to its original state.

No one noticed, before the president took that step, an invisible figure was already pressed close behind him.

Jeming used the Void Step to hide himself, his form so illusory that even a shadow was absent; his breath, heartbeat, body temperature, and even consciousness waves were compressed to the minimal limit.

He stuck so close behind the president, it was almost face-to-face distance.

Yet neither the president nor the two Disaster Level Spiritualists detected his presence.

Jeming followed them into the passage.

After a brief sensation of falling, the grayish space unfolded before Jeming's eyes.

Inside the space, it wasn't entirely dark nor bright, but a dim light akin to twilight between dusk and dawn.

The light was sufficient for seeing the surroundings, but it wasn't clear where it originated.

Beneath his feet was a gray ground, its texture akin to a substance between solid and liquid, slightly sinking when stepped on but leaving no footprints.

Above, no ceiling was visible, only endless gray extending into the distance.

The space was filled with countless stairs and rooms.

These stairs floated isolated in the air.

Irregularly distributed across various locations in the space, some beneath feet, some overhead, and others faintly visible in the distance.

Each level of stairs extended in different directions, leading nowhere in sight.

The rooms were irregular too.

The walls were translucent, showing the room's outline but obscuring contents within.

Some rooms large as warehouses, others small like coffins, all floating in the air, erratically arranged like the stairs.

Upon entering, faint whispering sounds were heard.

The sound wasn't loud, resembling many people whispering at a distance.

The speech was fast, yet no words could be discerned.

Surrounded by these sounds, the whispers enveloped them from all directions simultaneously.

Jeming's brow furrowed slightly.

He realized these whispers possessed a peculiar power, appearing to be a kind of eerie attack.

If someone instinctively tried to listen closely, the sound would amplify rapidly near their ears.

Transforming from whispers to mutters, from mutters to screams, until the mind was disturbed, thoughts muddled, and judgment lost.

Ordinary people facing this attack would lose consciousness in seconds.

However, the three walking ahead of Jeming were not ordinary.

The female support on the left reacted first, and without hesitation, she let out a cold snort.

The snort came from her nasal cavity, simultaneously releasing a wave of power.

Her supernatural also seemed to be sound-based.

Wherever her sound wave passed, the whispers were like being muzzled by an invisible hand, silencing instantly.

Two similar types of eerie forces extinguished each other upon contact.

The female support continued walking without pausing.

In the meantime, the male support on the right used the gap to lock onto a direction with his supernatural senses.

His body leaned slightly forward, then shot out like an arrow released from a bow.

The president followed the male support steadily, neither hurried nor delayed.

He didn't immediately use his supernatural ability.

His supernatural, like Harding's, was Storm type and unsuitable for closed spaces like this.

Violent storms here would destroy the fragile structure, and might trigger other unknown dangers.

Their figures quickly vanished amidst the interplay of light and shadows among stairs and rooms.

Jeming stood on the gray ground behind, watching them gradually fade into the distance.

His form, gradually emerging from the "unnoticed" state under the effect of Void Step, shifted from transparent to opaque like a painting.

Standing on the gray ground, surrounded by whispers circling him, yet hesitant to approach, seeming to recognize Jeming's intimidating presence.

Jeming first surveyed the surroundings, then activated the All-Purpose Eye.

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