"It's About Time"

The three masked men who had been nesting in the power distribution room looked at each other and grabbed the AK assault rifles beside them.

The big man in the lead began to turn over the security plan again. "Well, this is the elevator maintenance room, let's go through the ventilation duct."

The three big men began to rummage through their bags, taking out a set of equipment such as night vision goggles and ropes, as well as a miniature spray gun with its own fuel. The trio put on miniature headphones and night vision goggles and got ready to go.

After a few minutes, they climbed to the top of the huge elevator shaft. The steel access cover originally had a combination lock, which was violently cut open by a spray gun. The three of them went down the maintenance escalator to the elevator shaft and took out rolls of ziplines. The leader studied the security plan for a while, and pointed down: "The seventh elevator door." ”

Because the central air conditioner is not turned off, there is always hot air blowing upwards in the elevator shaft. The three of them silently climbed down the maintenance escalator. When I was about to reach the target, the flow of the wind suddenly became strange, and the chaotic air flow was desperately rushing upwards.

"Be careful!"

The leader slapped the feet of his companion above his head, flashed to the inside of the escalator, and clasped the iron handrail. As soon as he flashed, a huge high-speed elevator roared up. If you get caught up in this iron monster, I'm afraid your body will be neatly split in half. Sure enough, the unlucky ghost at the top couldn't dodge for a while, and his foot was caught in the chain. He disappeared into the darkness of the heights and was never heard from again.

Losing a companion, the leader muttered curses the person who took the elevator. "Crazy, workaholic, come up so late......" he cursed in a bad mood, "go to hell, bastard." ”

Now there are only two people left. Thankfully, the elevator didn't cause any more trouble. They climbed smoothly to the elevator door on the first floor of the exhibition hall, carefully cut the control box with a spray gun, and closed the elevator door locking mechanism. The elevator door loses the power to close and becomes slack. The two of them quickly slammed open the door and disappeared into the floor, the whole process taking less than ten seconds.

In the monitoring room on the basement floor, a middle-aged guard sat in front of the console and stared at the computer screen a little bored.

Suddenly, somewhere on the screen flashed. The control program automatically calls up a wiring diagram of the elevator door, and a red warning is marked on the locking mechanism. A flat machine voice repeated: "Fault, 22nd floor B elevator door locking mechanism is out of order." Fault ......"

Something went wrong? The middle-aged guard stood up suspiciously, leaned close to the walkie-talkie on his shoulder and said, "Hey, Fukuyama, check the B elevator door on the 22nd floor, it seems to be out of order—"

Before the middle-aged guard finished speaking, the computer reported again: "The fault is lifted, and the elevator door locking mechanism on the 22nd floor B is back to normal." ”

The middle-aged guard was stunned for a few seconds, staring at the computer screen where everything was normal, and his face was puzzled.

A voice came from the intercom: "This is Fukuyama, the night guard, I have received it, do you want me to check the elevator door now?" ”

The middle-aged guard hesitated for a moment and replied, "Go ahead and see if there are any problems." ”

"Yes!"

After a while, there was a sudden ding-dong in the unmanned corridor, and the elevator door on the 22nd floor A opened.

Jun Fukuyama stepped out of the elevator with even steps. He used to be a member of the Self-Defense Army, and even after retiring as a hotel guard, he still behaved like a soldier. The rigid barracks life made his life as monotonous and accurate as a pendulum. It's sometimes boring, but it's a good guard.

Everything is normal near the elevator door B, and the bright and clean elevator door is closed as usual. Jun Fukuyama approached, leaned down to take a closer look, and couldn't see anything wrong. He was about to straighten up, and inadvertently swept the corner of his eye, and there seemed to be something on the ground? The habit he had developed for a long time drove him to crouch down again and reach out and touch the carpet. Fingers got some greasy dust. He took out his flashlight and looked closely around the elevator door, and found that the silver gray carpet was scattered with imperceptible black dust.

Put your finger to the tip of your nose and sniff it, the black powder has a faint smell of motor oil. Fukuyama took out the walkie-talkie: "Hey, B1F monitoring room?" This is Jun Fukuyama, the night guard, I would like to ask, the walkway near the elevator door on the 22nd floor B, yes, this is there, I would like to ask when was the last time I did cleaning? ”

He didn't wait for an answer.

A ferocious blow from the butt of the AK knocks Jun Fukuyama to the ground. Fortunately, it was a folding bracket, and if it was solid wood, he would probably have a concussion. He lay on the ground in a daze, and heard two people next to him whispering: "There is another guard, what should I do?" ”

"What else can I do," said another, "and drag it to the next lounge." ”

"Horses," complained the first, "the guy who broke in tonight was like a leek, cutting and cutting and cutting." It's a guard this time, who will it be next time? Captain Mi or a dead bat? ”

"Don't complain," rebuked his accomplice, "get to work!" ”

When Jun Fukuyama woke up, he found himself lying in the guest lounge on the 22nd floor, surrounded by several people. There were men and women, dressed in different clothes. a chunky Latino in a hat;

a tall brunette Asian woman; a black man of mixed race, with curly hair clinging to his scalp; A tall white old man, and a teenage blonde, dressed in a hotel waitress uniform.

Latino Humpty Dumpty looked down at Fukuyama and gave a thumbs up. "It's a good idea to play the guard," he complimented, "but when two assault rifles are pointed at at the same time, the fart is not topped." ”

Fukuyama tried to explain that he was the real guard, but his throat was so dry that he couldn't speak.

"Uncle, how much did you spend on this guard uniform?" The brunette Asian woman crossed her legs, "I guess it's no more expensive than the security plan you bought." ”

"Damn the intelligence monger," cursed the young blonde, "to sell so many people." If I had known beforehand, I would have said that I would not come. Speaking of which," she looked around at everyone present, "I'm interested, how much did you all pay for that security plan?" ”

"Thirty million yen." Latino Humpty Dumpty said.

"I wrote the security plan," the old white man looked solemnly at everyone present, "you damn thieves, I'm Ander Viking, senior head of security at the Smithson Museum. I'm curious to know, where the hell did you steal my solution? His stern gaze turned to the mulatto black, "Did you leak it, Malid?" ”

The mixed-race black man shrugged: "Old man, don't be nervous. You're not a security executive, and I'm not the head of security for the Universal hotel chain. It's all mixed up with this, is it still fun to play scheming? How could a security supervisor sneak into a hotel in the middle of the night, you told me? ”

The old man sighed: "I can fool everyone, but I can't help it when I meet my peers." Especially the peers who do not play according to the rules. ”

When it comes to being caught in the break room, everyone is conflicted. "The thieves are all degraded now," Latino Humpty Dumpty sighed, "all submachine guns and all sorts of high-tech gadgets, pure violence, and no grace at all—"

The door to the lounge was slammed open, and a man in a black hood and a jumpsuit burst in with an AK assault rifle.

Everyone stood up, not knowing what was happening. The big man stumbled along, trembling all over. Jun Fukuyama noticed that he was missing an arm, and he was bleeding profusely.

"Ghost ...... Ghost ......" the big man gasped with difficulty, his voice full of despair, "Murderous demon—"

A cold blade suddenly burst out of his chest, cutting off all the words. Two green flames slowly emerged, fluttering behind the dying man. The hooded banshee, carrying a green lantern and a sharp sword, coldly glanced at everyone in the lounge.

Everyone in the lounge, including Jun Fukuyama, was stunned. When they were brought in, they were unarmed, and in the face of the banshee with a sword, they were nothing more than fish on a chopping board.

Footsteps suddenly sounded on the stairs in the distance, and a group of guards rushed out, all armed with batons and shields. "What people!" The guard at the head shouted angrily. Fukuyama heard a familiar voice. It was the captain, he thought excitedly, this time he could be saved.

Unfortunately, it's not that simple. As if to destroy his hopes, the banshee waited quietly for the guards to come running over, and then swung her sword with a move.

"Can we not do that?"

Loud and shrill complaints rang out in the 22nd-floor pavilion. Accompanied by green fire, groups of small evil ghosts emerged from the void. They are more numerous than guards, and their pitch-black claws are pointed and shiny.