The man covered his mouth and coughed dryly, his complexion didn't look too good. From a lower angle, his eyes under the sunglasses appeared reddish, and a peculiar smell intermittently emanated from him.
The cleaner hastily stood up, "Mr. Purier!"
The man waved his hand, anxiously scratching his arms, indicating for her to move aside. The cleaner nodded repeatedly like a hen pecking rice. Watching the man walk away, she finally breathed a sigh of relief, not paying much attention to the strange smell on him, mistaking it for the fishy water on the mop.
Just as she dipped the mop into the dirty water bucket to wring it dry, intending to continue cleaning, she suddenly noticed a footprint left in the man's previous position, glowing brightly. Squatting down and pinching it with her fingertips, she could feel a sticky touch, stretching out a transparent thread.
