Diary

Old City Prison

The medieval castle-like structure housed the prison hall and entrance. Along the fifty-meter-high walls on either side, manned watchtowers stood at regular intervals, conducting joint inspections with drones.

Some kind of invisible electrical grid or unusual membrane seemed to float above the walls.

A black sedan painted with gray stripes and decorated with a metal cap on its roof slowly drove down the only road and pulled into the empty prison parking lot.

Two black leather shoes stepped out from the driver's and passenger's sides at the same time, though their sizes differed considerably.

Both men were wrapped in black trench coats, with badges bearing an eye design embedded over their chests, though the materials and colors differed.

The one who stepped out from the driver's seat was a young man who still looked rather soft-skinned, no older than thirty. The moment he got out, his attention was completely captured by the prison.

The middle-aged man who got out of the passenger seat, however, looked completely slack. Deep bags hung beneath his eyes like ravines, and he stretched lazily to the fullest, as though he had slept the entire way here.

Rather than looking at the prison, the middle-aged man turned his gaze on the "newcomer."

"Are they that short on manpower?"

The hoarse question was like an arm reaching out from between cracks in stone, yanking the young colleague's attention back from the prison.

The young man scratched his head awkwardly. "Mr. Anderson, you fell asleep as soon as you got in the car... My name is Zhang Chi. I'm from the Behavioral Science Department.

"The director assigned me to accompany you on this 'prison visit.'"

"Bring the bird. Follow me."

Zhang Chi looked confused. "Do we need birds even for a directly affiliated prison like this?"

Anderson apparently could not be bothered to explain. He took an egg-like Metal Container from inside his coat lining.

Click~ The eggshell opened through a precise mechanical process, waking a parrot-like bird that flew of its own accord onto Anderson's right shoulder.

Zhang Chi used a similar method to perch his own bird on his shoulder.

And so, one after the other, the two men entered the oppressive prison gates.

Identity verification.

Weapons surrendered.

Blood testing.

Psychological evaluation.

Once every preparation had been completed, a prison guard in full-body protective gear led them deeper into the prison, bypassing the mixed yet relatively open general area.

All kinds of filthy insults drifted from the open cells of the general area. The inmates rarely saw outsiders dressed so formally without any protective equipment.

They passed through the general area.

Then crossed a completely enclosed corridor.

They descended fifty meters along a spiral staircase at the end.

They arrived at the deepest part of Border City Prison, a place neither prison guards nor ordinary inmates held in the general area wanted to approach.

Maximum Security Area

The prisoners held here had generally committed sins beyond the limits of capital punishment, and were themselves exceptionally dangerous.

Yet for some reason, they could not be allowed to die.

"Mr. Di has already been transferred to the Interaction Booth.

"Please keep your visit under fifteen minutes. If any dangerous incident occurs during that time, we will immediately terminate the visit."

Anderson clasped his hands together and worked his wrists as he instructed the young man beside him.

"Zhang Chi, I'll handle the main conversation from here on.

"You are forbidden from speaking to Mr. Di without my permission. Even basic eye contact should be kept to a minimum."

"Understood. I'll spend most of the time taking notes."

Zhang Chi had already taken out the department's specialized notebook, ready to carefully record the upcoming conversation.

"Let's go."

They passed through the final transition area.

A new type of bulletproof glass served as a barrier, isolating the prisoner inside.

Zhang Chi's first field assignment required him to deal with a criminal like this, and he was understandably nervous. After all, he had done his research before leaving and knew exactly how dangerous the other man was.

The file referred to him as "The Devil."

That title came from a survivor. According to the survivor's account, the thing carrying out the slaughter at the scene had not been a man at all, but a demon with flames in its eyes and curved horns sprouting from its head.

Violence Syndrome, High Intelligence, Lack of Humanity, Superhuman Physique.

Zhang Chi remembered these personality labels recorded in the file clearly.

Yet when Zhang Chi looked through the barrier glass, all he saw was an ordinary young man doing standard push-ups.

There were no long curved horns, no demon's red skin. He had black hair and yellow skin, just like Zhang Chi.

Even after sensing the visitors' arrival, the man did not stop his push-ups. His lips moved slightly as he silently counted.

"198, 199, 200..."

Only after finishing two hundred push-ups did "Mr. Di" slowly rise to his feet.

He had deliberately worn a white shirt and dress pants to welcome his "guests." Because of the push-ups, sweat had soaked through much of his shirt.

When Zhang Chi saw his face, his first impression was that he seemed friendly.

But after examining him more closely, Zhang Chi immediately sensed an invisible danger beneath that friendly face, and his entire body tensed.

At that moment, "Mr. Di" looked over as well, and their eyes met.

Zhang Chi, who had become a probationary agent with outstanding grades and near-perfect marks in every practical assessment, instantly broke out in a cold sweat. Even so, he steadied himself as best he could and politely nodded in greeting.

Using the nod as cover, he lowered his head over his notebook and recorded what he had just felt.

"Mr. Di, we came this time hoping you could assist us in analyzing a special case."

Anderson seized the conversation while placing a prearranged document on the scanner. A duplicate was quickly delivered into Mr. Di's hands.

Mr. Di spent only three minutes skimming the document before neatly stacking the pages again and holding them in his hand.

They were completely soundproofed, and communication was transmitted through electrical signals.

Mr. Di's voice was received by the wall-mounted receiver, converted through electrical signals, and relayed to the headphones worn by the two men.

Even after being processed, the voice remained deeply unpleasant to hear.

It was clearly coming through their headphones, yet it felt as though it came from deep underground.

"It's been a long time since I've seen such a young visitor. I can help you analyze the case, but I have one condition. Talking to an old man like you, Anderson, will accelerate my aging. Let this young man discuss the case with me."

Anderson knew this criminal's temperament well. If he refused, this trip would very likely be wasted.

He turned to Zhang Chi, who was taking notes.

"Remember, do not discuss any of your personal information in the conversation ahead. Only ask questions related to the case.

"I'll monitor the entire exchange from the side. If there is any inappropriate conversation, I will end this visit."

As a probationary agent in the Behavioral Science Department, dealing with criminals was going to be a major part of Zhang Chi's future work. He accepted the assignment decisively.

Anderson, the senior veteran, voluntarily stepped back and left the space to the two young men.

Zhang Chi did not rush to speak with the prisoner before him. Instead, he closed his eyes and communicated with something deep within his mind through a peculiar method.

When the communication ended, he opened his eyes again.

The newcomer's youthful immaturity vanished in an instant, replaced by an unusually resolute gaze.

Just as he prepared to speak to the prisoner behind the bulletproof glass.

The other man wore a benevolent expression and raised his right hand, waving at him with a fixed rhythm.

A voice simultaneously came through the headphones, though it sounded far more gentle than before.

"Come closer..."

The words seemed capable of seeping into his thoughts.

But Zhang Chi did not move. He relied on his willpower to block the pull of the other man's words.

The voice continued through the headphones. "Oh? It seems you're quite an excellent newcomer. But~ if you don't come closer, there's no need for us to talk."

"Go forward," Anderson said from behind him.

Zhang Chi looked troubled, but he still slowly moved closer, stopping one meter from the glass.

"Cough, cough~ Mr. Di, could you speak with me..."

Just as Zhang Chi took the initiative to ask a question, a voice suddenly came through the headphones and interrupted him.

"What is your name?"

Zhang Chi realized that he had yet to introduce himself. Just as he was about to speak his name through clenched teeth, the headphones sounded again.

"Zhang~ Zhen... No. Let me guess. Zhang Chi, right?"

"Yes."

Just as Zhang Chi intended to steer the conversation back to the case, the other man unexpectedly beat him to it and stated the analysis outright.

"This Butterfly Killer will strike again within three days. There's a strong chance the victim is already being held captive by him. Go to the area where he committed his second or third crime and investigate reports of missing obese men between the ages of forty-five and fifty-five. You may find a lead."

As Mr. Di delivered his analysis, he deftly folded the copied document in his hands.

"Thank you."

Having obtained useful information, Zhang Chi did not linger. He seemed to have caught the scent of some kind of danger.

Just as he turned to leave, the voice came through the headphones again. "So~ when do you plan to commit a crime?"

"Huh?!"

"Let me put it another way. When did you begin feeling the urge to kill, Zhang Chi? Let me guess..."

Zhang Chi decisively removed his headphones, ending his verbal communication with Mr. Di.

Yet the communication was not cut off. Instead, the other man's voice became even clearer. It was no longer filtered through electrical signals, but came directly from behind him.

If the previous voice had seemed to come from underground, this original voice was like a fissure leading straight to hell. The Devil's true voice continuously seeped out from within.

"What?!"

Zhang Chi was shocked. The barrier glass between him and the prisoner had actually vanished.

Calm down~

The whisper in his mind instantly dispelled his tension. Zhang Chi swiftly put on the black gloves that matched his trench coat and shifted into a combat stance.

This black trench coat used a combat-grade multilayer flexible metal structure that could even stop medium-caliber bullets. Zhang Chi himself had achieved the highest score in his group during his pre-employment Combat Test.

He assumed a Mongolian wrestling stance, ready to subdue the unarmed prisoner before him.

Whoosh!

Something flashed past his eyes, moving too fast for him to see.

Then things began falling one after another.

Zhang Chi looked down and saw all ten of his fingers scattered across the floor, his combat gloves sliced cleanly open.

The fingers were connected to the heart.

Yet his brain suppressed the pain. His bloodshot eyes fixed on Mr. Di, and he discovered that the paper file in the man's hand had been folded into the shape of a small knife.

"Paper!"

Zhang Chi had no time to be shocked by the other man's method. He shifted his footing and swung his fingerless palm with all his strength.

Smack! The sound of flesh striking flesh rang out.

His palm failed to touch Mr. Di. Instead, Mr. Di had tightly seized Zhang Chi's wrist.

The sensation of that grip was nothing like a human hand. It was like a burning iron shackle locking his wrist in place.

"What kind of monster are you?!"

Zhang Chi still refused to give up. He decisively raised his leg and launched a high roundhouse kick.

Smack!

This time, it landed solidly.

But the feeling traveling back from the top of his foot was as though he had kicked a stone surface. Mr. Di did not move at all; only his head tilted by around 10°.

Danger!

Zhang Chi felt unprecedented danger!

At that moment, the soft whispers in his head became chaotic, and it even felt as though his entire face was about to split open.

Hiss, hiss, hiss~

Tentacle-like structures seeped out from Zhang Chi's eye sockets and between his teeth. Cracks appeared at the tip of his nose, as though his entire face were about to rupture and expose the most horrifying thing inside.

Chirp! Chirp!

Bird cries rang out without pause.

The bird belonging to Zhang Chi, which had been perched on his shoulder earlier, kept shrieking at that moment, frantically flapping its wings as it tried to flee from its owner.

Just as Zhang Chi was about to transform into some terrifying form.

Whoosh~ Something invisible to the naked eye shot at him from the front again.

Zhang Chi only felt as though something had been stabbed into his mouth. The horrifying transformation occurring across his face was forcibly interrupted, and his consciousness gradually blurred.

Looking down.

The small knife folded from paper had already pierced through his mouth and reached his brain, destroying some tissue.

At death's door.

A brief moment of clarity made Zhang Chi remember a few things.

It seemed that, starting one day, he had begun hearing invisible whispers from within his mind.

It seemed that, under the whispers' influence, he would occasionally become like a stranger.

It seemed that he had killed his girlfriend some time ago.

Smack!

His body crashed heavily to the floor, pink fluid flowing from the mouth pierced by the paper knife.

An agent had been killed.

Yet the prison alarm did not sound for a long time.

Only the bulletproof glass used as a barrier descended once more from the ceiling.

At that moment, Mr. Anderson, standing outside the glass, unhurriedly took out a cigarette and lit it. As he looked at the corpse, a hint of surprise flashed through his eyes.

He was not surprised that his colleague had been killed, but that Mr. Di had actually grown stronger during the time he had been confined in the prison.

Mr. Di crouched beside the corpse as though conducting an examination, then gave his analysis. "This fellow didn't even know he had already undergone a 'change,' allowing him to achieve perfect camouflage... These things are 'evolving.'"

Anderson's voice came through the earpiece. "Sorry to trouble you this time, Mr. Di."

"Since you had already determined that there was something wrong with this person, why didn't you handle it internally?"

Anderson shrugged. "Once news of a Pseudo-Human appearing within our ranks gets out, it will inevitably cause widespread panic. We can't afford even a one-in-ten-thousand risk.

By comparison, an agent accidentally being killed by a criminal during a prison visit sounds much better."

"Is that so?"

Mr. Di suddenly rose and walked up to the glass, pressing his entire face against it as though he were about to break through from the inside.

The sight made even a hardened old hand like Anderson break out in a cold sweat. "Mr. Di, there will definitely be compensation for your help~ We found what you asked us to look for last time."

The moment he heard this, Mr. Di immediately returned to normal. He took the initiative to step back, and even his tone became gentler.

"Is that so?"

Anderson took an exquisite leather-bound notebook from inside his clothes. It looked rather old. "I'll make you a copy right away."

"No. Give me the original."

Mr. Di was actually holding a fistful of teeth—the very teeth he had hastily pulled while examining the corpse earlier.

Those sturdy teeth seemed to have been embedded between Mr. Di's fingers, forming a temporary tool.

He pressed all five fingers against the glass and twisted them clockwise once. The bulletproof glass was actually cut open with a circular hole.

Crack, crack~

The outstretched arm poured the teeth outside, where they rolled to Anderson's feet, then made a gesture as if to receive something.

This immediately triggered the prison alarm, and red lights began flashing.

Yet Anderson did not back down. Instead, he stepped forward and handed over the diary in his hand.

The instant Mr. Di received the diary, he became "well-behaved," and all his attention fell upon it.

He immediately reached out to stroke the cover, even pressing it against his face and sniffing it carefully, as if caressing the skin of the person he loved most.

"Ah~ It hasn't been tainted by anyone else's scent. No one has looked through it. That's truly wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Anderson."

The prison visit ended.

Anderson took the initiative to explain the situation to the prison staff, telling them not to interfere with Mr. Di reading the diary.

Back in his room, Mr. Di could no longer restrain himself. He washed away the blood stains on his palms, then carefully dried them with a towel.

He sat upright at the desk.

With his index finger, he gently hooked up the diary's cover, his eyes focusing on the words inside.

Owner: Luo Di

Diary began: June 10, 2026

Day One, Clear

As each word entered his sight, Luo Di's thoughts returned to several years ago—to that special, extraordinary high school era.

Sorry to keep everyone waiting.