Prologue (Part 2)

Here's a translation with a natural, engaging style that would appeal to an American audience:

The Omen (Part 1)

I was just curious. That's why I stepped up to take a look. After all, we had been neighbors for years, and I thought I'd help call for Granny Wang to open the door.

But before I could take a few steps, a sharp ringing filled my head. That same, suffocating feeling I had at North Park returned.

I knew immediately—this was the scent of death.

I slowly placed my hand on Granny Wang's door. And in an instant, a vision crashed into my mind.

Granny Wang lived alone. Her kids only visited on weekends, if at all. That day, she must have felt dizzy. She lost her balance and collapsed, hitting the floor hard.

I could see it vividly—blood gushing from her head, pooling on the ground…

I yanked my hand away from the door as if it were on fire. The vision vanished.

Not long after, someone pried the door open. The second we stepped inside, the room filled with gasps and cries. Granny Wang's son broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, blaming himself for not visiting enough.

When the police arrived, they quickly determined it was an accident.

After that, I stopped going out. Stopped going to school. I was terrified that the feeling would come back—that I would see another death.

So, I dropped out. The official reason? "Medical leave for health concerns."

For months, I barely left my house, afraid that the moment I stepped outside, I'd run into another corpse.

Just when I thought my life was spiraling into darkness, fate threw me a lifeline—my distant uncle from the northeast.

He'd heard about what happened and told my mom to send me to live with him for a while. At first, I refused. A city kid like me? Living in some rural village? No way.

But my mom's nagging was relentless. In the end, I surrendered, packed my bags, and boarded a train heading north.

I hadn't been on one of those old green trains in years. The last time must've been when I was little, traveling with my mom to visit my grandma. These days, everyone took high-speed rail. I never thought I'd find myself on such an old-fashioned train again.

I had no idea how long we'd been traveling. The train just kept pushing further and further north. My uncle's place was all the way in the Greater Khingan Mountains of Heilongjiang. If I didn't endure "three days and two nights" of this ride, there was no way I'd get there.

We had been on the tracks for nearly two days when the train pulled into a small station called Nenjiang. That's when I noticed him.

A strange man.

He wasn't tall, his skin dark from years under the sun. His broad, flat features made him look like a seasoned traveler. The moment he stepped on the train, my chest tightened.

That feeling was back again.

He wore a filthy, oversized army coat and carried an enormous backpack on his back. In his hands, he gripped a heavy red-white-blue plastic bag, the kind street vendors used.

As he walked closer, my whole body tensed. My skin prickled.

I knew this feeling too well. This was death.

But… was he dead? That couldn't be. A dead man wouldn't walk onto a train.

Then my eyes drifted lower—to the plastic bag.

That's where the problem was.

The man spoke in a thick Sichuan accent, asking the person beside me, "Brother, is this seat taken?"

The guy next to me glanced at him. "No, it's free. But, man, what the hell is in that bag? Smells awful."

The man forced a nervous smile. "Ah… just some Sichuan cured meat. You can't buy this stuff here."

He squatted down and shoved the plastic bag under the seat with all his strength.

My stomach churned.

Cured meat?

That was no meat. That was a human skeleton.

I swallowed hard, suddenly regretting every cured meat dish I'd ever eaten.

I stared at the man, my mind spinning.

Who was he? A murderer? A psycho? Why was he carrying a corpse?

Then, I felt it.

The remains in that bag belonged to a woman. Even though I couldn't see her, I knew what she looked like before she died—a plain but hardworking rural woman, dead for decades. She had died in childbirth, struggling to bring a new life into the world.

I wasn't a legal expert, but I knew this wasn't a murder case. She had died naturally.

So why was this man lugging her skeleton around?

Was she his wife?

No. That didn't make sense. She had died in her thirties, decades ago. This guy was barely forty. She could have been his mother.

A crazy thought hit me—if I touched that skeleton, I might get more answers.

But hell no was I touching that thing.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. Ever since this "gift" awakened in me, every time I sensed death, my stomach turned inside out.

I shot up from my seat and stumbled toward the restroom.

But the moment I locked myself inside, the nausea faded. No vomiting. Just the lingering unease in my gut.

I took a deep breath and stepped out—

Only to be stopped by a train attendant.

"Kid, get back to your seat. Ticket inspection's coming up."

I nodded and shuffled back. As soon as I sat down, I heard it—

"Tickets, please."

The police were on board, checking every passenger.

I watched as the man beside me started to panic.

No one else seemed to notice, but I could see it clear as day. His hands clenched. His breath hitched.

He was scared.

Of course, he was. He was hiding a corpse.

The officer stopped in front of him. "Sir, is that plastic bag under your seat yours?"

The man hesitated, then nodded stiffly. "Y-Yeah, officer. Just some cured meat from my hometown. Nothing illegal."

The officer gave a polite smile. "Understood. Mind opening it for us?"

The man froze.

Then, forcing a chuckle, he said, "Ah, well, officer, you see… I finally managed to shove it under there. It's hard to take out again. How about you check my backpack instead?"

The officer's smile didn't waver. But his tone hardened.

"Sir, if you don't comply, I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

Two more officers stepped forward. They reached for the bag—

The man lunged.

He grabbed at the bag, desperate to snatch it away.

I knew something big was about to happen. I shrank back in my seat.

And then—

RIP.

The thin plastic tore open.

A sudden silence swept through the car.

Then, a heartbeat later—

Screams.

"OH MY GOD—THERE'S A BODY IN THERE!"