Scam?

"That journal… it does not belong to this world." The old man said, instantly peaking at my interest. 

Damien stiffened. "Okay, yeah. I really don't like that phrasing."

Although the all-knowing system said that, I flipped the book open anyways.

hufff

There was nothing like the fear that the book in front of me wouldn't open.

I was so traumatised by the Book of Sin that every single time book I tried to open a book, I felt nervous.

The first page was blank. So was the second. But on the third, words began appearing—written in ink so fresh it still glistened.

Hello? Is someone there?

I snapped the book shut.

"Nope," I said, stuffing it back on the shelf. "Not dealing with this haunted diary."

The old man cackled. "A shame! That one is quite talkative."

I ignored him and kept searching.