Diary of the Dead

Second floor of the gallery.

Lu Li bypassed the office and headed towards the lounge at the back, with Anna floating behind him.

This scene was strange; the human and ghost seemed to coexist rather harmoniously. Lu Li was beginning to understand what Hades meant by communicating with spirits.

Spirits were once human too, and perhaps some changed greatly after death, but most retained a part of their living thoughts.

Like Anna.

The other two spirits were the same, but Lu Li had yet to find a way to deal with eyeless spirits except through physical exorcisms.

The door to the lounge had already been slammed open by a ghost, and everything inside was now visible.

A few single beds, several cabinets, and a dining table—nothing else out of the ordinary.

"Do you remember which bed Campbell slept in?" Lu Li asked as he stepped into the lounge.

Anna floated to the windowsill, sat down, and gently swayed her legs. "How could I possibly know that?"

Lu Li walked to the bed closest to the door, reached out to touch it lightly, then suddenly flipped the blanket over.

A notebook caught his eye.

Anna looked on amazed.

Lu Li picked up the notebook, shook off the dust under the oil lamp, and without looking up, he explained, "Men tend to hide their secrets under the bed."

The notebook was signed by James Campbell, and Lu Li had thus easily obtained a crucial item.

"That's true for girls too…" Anna stopped swinging her legs and muttered quietly.

"Yes, but you also hide things in cabinets, under rugs, behind vanity mirrors, inside dolls," Lu Li opened the notebook, his gaze falling into it.

[March 6th, clear]

A familiar format leapt into sight.

On the other side, an unamused and somewhat irritated Anna began to murmur under her breath.

Diaries aren't reliable—this statement is limited to celebrities. Most ordinary people who have the experience of keeping diaries tend to write their most genuine self into their entries.

At least from Lu Li's experiences in helping the police crack cases during his time on Earth, murderers who wrote their motives and methods in diaries were not uncommon.

Collecting his thoughts, Lu Li focused his attention on the diary.

[March 6th, clear]

[Damned ghastly weather, factory chimneys could choke a person to death. The nobles in the council are debating shutting them down, as if that would ever happen]

——

[March 7th, overcast]

[Where did this fog come from? The sea? Or the industrial area?]

——

[March 8th, overcast]

[Great news, heard the factories are shutting down, those noble lords must have finally taken pity]

——

[March 10th, partly cloudy]

[Why hasn't the fog cleared? Although it's not choking anymore]

——

[March 12th, overcast]

[Forgot to write yesterday, but nothing happened, the sky is still very gloomy, as if the fog has reached the heavens]

Lu Li quickly flipped through the pages, skipping some brief and meaningless entries while noticing the weather had changed to overcast on every following day.

[March 26th, overcast]

[What's going on? Why does it feel like there's something in the night? Woke up this morning to find another family dead in the house across the street... What's happening?]

——

[April 1, overcast]

[I... I killed someone... Just kidding.]

——

[April 15, overcast]

[Has the apocalypse the church spoke of arrived? Many people have died recently, the clouds haven't cleared, and the council has decreed that every household must light lamps at night... What exactly is going on here?]

——

[April 21, overcast]

[What the council said is true! Disaster has struck Belfast! Everyone is saying to stay in lit areas, some people, to save money, don't light their lamps at night, and by the time people find them in their homes, their bodies already reek... What exactly is in the darkness?]

——

[April 24, overcast]

[Everyone is terrified, and Deng Ken even resigned. Poor Deng Ken, how can he afford kerosene without a job?]

——

[April 25, overcast]

[Thank heavens, the price of kerosene has dropped, and those homeless Scavengers can hide under the street lamps.]

——

[May 1, overcast]

[The people who had left Belfast are returning. They said the roads are dangerous and that the other cities have turned the same. But... only most have returned, what happened to the others? Or should I say...]

[May 5, overcast]

[She came to find me... How could this be? She was already dead... I know now, it was her ghost, she has come back, she is seeking revenge!]

The journal abruptly ends here, with Lu Li unconsciously continuing to flip through the blank pages.

Clearly, when Campbell said he killed someone on April 1, it was not a joke.

Rustle—

The page turning sound suddenly ceased.

New content emerged in the latter half of the journal.

It's no longer in journal format, but the writer seems to be the same person.

[She did it on purpose... She threw me into it, she wants revenge... She blames me for killing her, for gouging out her eyes...]

[What happened!? Why is everything—every person, every building, every object—twisting and distorting... Is it me who has a problem? Or is it its doing?]

As Lu Li turned to the second page, he noticed the handwriting becoming chaotic.

[They have heard me! They are looking for me... They see me! They want to touch me... I must hide, can't be touched, once touched...]

From here, his sanity began to decline. Just as he described the distorted world, the words he wrote turned into deformed limbs, sprawling and writhing, struggling to free themselves from the text, reaching for the person reading the journal.

Lu Li frowned, ignoring the negativity the font brought, focusing all his attention to discern each word.

[That's it... It did this. When I got close to it, everything started to get better... I know now... It is urging me... It is summoning me... It did all this... It is making me go back...]

[I know these are houses, they are made of wood, I am very clear. But when those flesh-blobs several meters high stretch along both sides of the street, limbs blossoming, sticky writhing flailing... I am getting closer to it, only by getting closer can I keep thinking... Dad, mom, what should I do...]

[I am barely maintaining my thoughts, I need money, I can't lose this job. Benjamin and my colleagues, to my eyes, are just blobs of flesh that emit strange noises... I'm desperately restraining myself from showing disgust and nausea.]

[I can't hold on any longer... I must stick to it to keep my sanity... This is the last content, I am going in. If anyone reads this journal, please remember—stay away from it. When you hear it, they can see you. When you see it, they can touch you. Don't ever touch them... don't ever... The door has opened.]

[It has come for me]

The writing stops abruptly here.

What follows is a string of random, meaningless English words.

Lu Li reluctantly deciphered a phrase from these words:...whatever...

He didn't pronounce it. He knows very well from horror movies that bad things happen when one utters obscure words from a text—Lu Li is very aware of that.