Broom Star 2

Sure enough, the moment Maza heard the question, her expression changed.

"Why are you suddenly asking that?" She studied my expression. "Could it be that you..."

"It's not what you think." I replied in an unhurried tone. "I just need to confirm something in advance, to take precautions."

"How can you take precautions against something like that?" She frowned. "Besides, you never completely believed what I told you before, so why are you suddenly asking such detailed questions..."

"The only thing I find difficult to believe is what you said about the Doomsday era, not your description of how you attract calamity. Seeing how troubled you are by the misfortune you might bring, I can't completely treat it as a joke. Besides..."

She asked suspiciously, "...Besides what?"

"I can't believe you, but I want to believe you." I gazed sincerely into her eyes. "Maza, can you let me believe you?"

Those were indeed my heartfelt words. Whether it was the Doomsday era or her broom-star constitution, both were things I found difficult to fully believe, yet wanted to believe truly existed.

But let me say one more thing from the heart: I had never imagined that such a melodramatic line would one day come out of my own mouth. I didn't know who had once said that when people played roles they were unfamiliar with, they would involuntarily reveal their own stereotyped impressions of those roles. Perhaps I had read too many comics. When I tried to play the part of a good-natured person, the lines that came out were always over-the-top like this.

Perhaps she had been disgusted, because Maza involuntarily backed away again. This time, she retreated until her back hit the wall. Dumbfounded, she said, "You really are, you really are inexplicable... How can there be someone like you?"

"So, does your constitution that attracts calamity affect the people around the people around you?" I couldn't help returning to my original question.

She composed her expression, thought for a moment, and answered, "I'm not really sure."

"Even you don't know?" I asked in surprise. "Shouldn't you be the person who knows best about something like this?"

"You'll understand if you just imagine it. In the Doomsday era where I lived, strange things were everywhere. Although survivors did their best to avoid the monsters, anyone could be discovered by one in the next moment and fall into danger." She explained, "Under those circumstances, I couldn't tell which strange things had been attracted by my broom-star constitution and which ones I had simply encountered because of bad luck."

"Since everyone had a considerable chance of being attacked by strange things, how could you confirm that some of them had come because of your fault?" I didn't let that question slip by.

"...Statistics." Her tone grew subdued. "After combining the information I obtained from talking with other survivors, I discovered that the frequency with which I encountered strange things was clearly abnormal. That abnormality would also gradually affect the people who cooperated with me... Some of them might originally have been able to live longer. I should have been the one to die..."

By the end, she could no longer conceal her negativity and dejection.

It seemed that this matter had truly traumatized her badly. Her entire body radiated an air of fragility and world-weariness.

Seeing this, I tried to distract her. "I understand. It's like how black paint is most conspicuous on white paper, but hazy on black paper. In an environment filled with calamity, your calamity-attracting constitution can only be observed as an indistinct result, like flowers seen through a fog. Is that what you mean?"

That said, perhaps even in such an environment, a sufficiently large number of experiments would still yield a more precise conclusion. But that would also mean sacrificing more lives, which clearly wasn't something Maza would do.

"Yes..." Maza took a deep breath, seeming somewhat tired.

Suddenly, her legs went limp. She swayed unsteadily and nearly fell to the floor again.

I hurried forward and supported her. She had fainted before, and it seemed that the symptoms were about to appear again.

Fortunately, she didn't faint this time. Instead, she grabbed my arm and used it to support herself.

I helped her over to the sofa and let her sit down.

"Are you all right?" I recalled the patient's clothes she had been wearing at first. "Are you suffering from some illness? If you need any medicine..."

"No, this isn't a physical illness." She spoke seriously. "Didn't I tell you before? My soul was severely wounded by the Great Demon of Doomsday, to the point that I can't even use the power of its blessing. The reason I keep fainting now is also because of my soul..."

Before she could finish speaking, her stomach suddenly let out a series of loud rumbles.

She fell silent.

"Are you hungry?" Only then did I suddenly realize what I had forgotten before coming home.

I had forgotten to give Maza anything to eat!

From the time I found her last night until now, I hadn't seen her eat anything, while she had remained in a weakened state the whole time.

This was the first time I had ever kept someone at home for so long, so I hadn't thought at all about the other person's food and drink. It was like having no experience raising a cat or dog, forgetting to prepare food for the pet, leaving it sitting at home, and then swaggering off with Chang'an.

No wonder Maza had seemed displeased when she saw me return just now. She had probably thought I would be back soon, never expecting me to leave her at home hungry for so long.

I felt extremely ashamed.

"I'm sorry. I was careless. You're very hungry now, aren't you?"

"It's nothing. I'm used to it." Her expression suggested that this was perfectly normal, but her hand still couldn't help rubbing her stomach.

Hearing her say that only made me feel even more guilty.

"I didn't expect you to faint from hunger..."

"It wasn't because I was hungry!" She first frowned and argued, then couldn't help rubbing her stomach again. "I told you, it was soul trauma. As for food, I ate yesterday. I've only been hungry for a day, so it wasn't enough to make me faint. I fainted because of my soul trauma... Wait, what's that look for?"

"Mm, I understand. Soul trauma, right? I understand."

"No, that expression of yours is clearly saying you don't believe me at all... Don't look at me with that sympathetic gaze! Didn't you just say you wanted to believe me?"

Compared to the embarrassment of being hungry, she seemed to care more about being looked at with sympathy. She was so angry that she looked as though she wanted to bite me hard.

I immediately changed the subject. "But there's still food in the fridge, isn't there? There are some snacks in the bedroom too. Didn't you touch any of them?"

"You mean the stir-fried meat and rice in the fridge? That's your food." Her expression made it sound self-evident. "I still have to hide here for three days. How could I take the initiative to touch your food and water? Anyone who did something like that would deserve to be killed."

"This isn't the Doomsday world. No one deserves to be killed over a minor mistake like that." I hoped she could relax while staying here. "This time, I was in the wrong. I didn't think things through beforehand. From now on, feel free to use anything in my home. Treat it like your own home. What's mine is yours. You can eat and drink whatever you want, and tell me if you run out."

Instead of being happy about such generous treatment, she looked suspicious. "How can that be okay?"

"You're only staying for three days, aren't you?" I used those words to dispel her doubts, then walked toward the refrigerator. "Wait here. I'll make you something to eat. Just to be safe, let me confirm first: you really didn't faint because of hunger, right? There's truly nothing wrong with you physically?"

"No problem." She didn't look like she was lying.

"Then I'll make you some fried rice, but remember to chew slowly." I took the food out of the refrigerator.

It was food left over from the last time I ordered too much takeout. Since ordering extra through the delivery app came with substantial discounts, I often ordered several boxes of dishes and kept whatever I couldn't finish in the refrigerator, taking it out to reheat in a pan whenever I got hungry. What remained now was green pepper fried with meat, rice, stir-fried shredded potatoes, and several eggs. I planned to mix everything together and make fried rice for Maza.

Actually, there was another question I wanted to ask her, but I should fill her stomach first.

However, she seemed to have noticed something from my attitude.

"You should have other questions you want to ask me, right?" She called out to stop me while repeatedly examining the plastic containers of food in my hands. "I didn't answer your last question properly, so that can't count as payment for the food. You can ask me another question."

"If I ask, will you answer?"

"I can't guarantee that. It depends on your question." Her attitude remained unchanged.

I placed the plastic containers of food on the dining table beside us.

"All right... First, you crossed over from the Doomsday era to this point in time yesterday, right?"

"That's what I said last time."

"The police officer who came to my door this morning said you were a serial killer who had killed five people over the past two or three months. What do you have to say about that?"

"I didn't do it." She spoke with absolute certainty. "Before yesterday, I wasn't in this era at all."

Yes, that was the alibi she could claim.

Between Maza and Agent Kong, one of them was definitely lying. Maza was more likely to be the liar, because records containing Maza's photograph existed in this era.

But I knew of one possibility that could make both their testimonies true.

Maza was a time traveler, while "time travel" was originally a fictional literary concept referring to a person moving to another time and space for some reason. This phenomenon could generally be divided into two forms: one in which the person's soul and body moved together to another time and space, and one in which only the soul moved to another time and space. In many works of fiction, time travelers whose souls alone moved to another time and space would often possess someone else's body.

Maza had once said that she came to this era only after her spatial transfer failed. Therefore, I had subconsciously assumed that her soul and body had moved together to this era.

But if the body Maza was currently using wasn't originally hers, and the body's original owner was the real serial killer, then most of the mysteries could be solved.

"Maza, is this body you're using really your own?"