Flute Man did not hide his unusual nature.
It seemed that these secrets meant nothing to him. After all, he had already become part of the hotel.
Even if you knew his secrets, could you really kill him?
That was how utterly fearless he was.
"You've stored so many memories. Aren't you afraid something might go wrong?"
"For example, your memories being taken by a Vicious Ghost."
Jiang Qiao asked.
"Strictly speaking, every Vicious Ghost whose memories I've stored will obtain my memories as well. I didn't seal them away. If I had, it would make it quite troublesome for me to recover them myself."
"So the ones walking through the corridors are actually each an 'I'... Heh."
"But fakes are still fakes."
"What's fake can never become real, and what's real can never become fake. Because I'm the source, everything derived from me can only serve me."
Flute Man said with a smile.
"Actually, you could stay on the fifth floor. The space here is a little cramped, but at least there aren't any of those messy conflicts. Under normal circumstances, the corridors on the fifth floor can't threaten your life either."
"It's a perfect place for seclusion."
"Of course, you no longer have that opportunity, because you need to pay the price for what you've done."
At this point.
A melodious flute sounded from the kitchen behind him.
The music was clear and graceful. Anyone who heard it would sink into it involuntarily, as if watching a tragic and beautiful story. There were no images at all, yet emotions still seeped into the listener.
"Is that your clone?"
"Or a Vicious Ghost that acquired your memories?"
Jiang Qiao looked toward the half-open kitchen door. The room inside was brightly lit, but there was no sign of anyone.
"Is