"Chang'an, what's wrong?"
As I asked him directly, I stepped out of the entryway first and casually pulled my front door shut, so Maza, who was hiding in the bedroom, wouldn't be able to overhear the details of our conversation.
My friend looked a little puzzled that I had deliberately moved our conversation to the corridor, but he didn't ask about it. Instead, he began with some small talk: "I saw your text saying you were going to ask the school for leave. Are you feeling unwell, or is there some urgent matter? If now isn't a good time, I can come another day."
"It's fine. I just don't feel like going to class today." I brushed off the matter of taking leave before steering the conversation back to him. "Tell me about your problem first. You don't look well, and you came all the way to find me. Is there something you need my help with?"
"Yes, there is..." His attention was more easily drawn than usual, and he was clearly weighed down by something. "This matter... I can only discuss it with you."
"Oh?" I immediately became interested. "Could it be..."
Before I could probe further, he admitted it outright: "It's exactly what you're thinking."
I nodded, just as expected.
I knew better than anyone how my friends and other people viewed me. If there was any topic for which someone would specifically name me as the person to consult, it could only be an incident with the nature of a ghost story.
However, although I had often taken the initiative to visit people involved in ghost-story incidents, it was rare for one of those people to come to me for advice.
Moreover, this time it was my friend asking me. He wasn't some fool lacking basic scientific knowledge, nor was he the sort of person who would make up a story just to amuse himself at my expense. I had to take any clues coming from him seriously.
At that thought, Maza's words from earlier suddenly echoed in my mind.
I... am different from you people. I'm a jinx.
The people who stay with me, the people who get involved with me... are always far more likely than others to be dragged into strange events that can't be explained by common sense.
Wait. She had just told me this, and then something related to a ghost story had come knocking right after. Could it be that her ability to bring disaster had really taken effect?
It had actually worked this quickly? This was too much like a cure taking immediate effect... I mean, like disaster following close on its heels.
Or was it merely a coincidence?
In my eyes, Maza was an utterly incredible girl. If this matter was somehow connected to her by a hidden thread of causality, then I had to raise the importance I attached to it to the highest possible level.
But to be honest, without solid evidence, even I couldn't take Maza's claim about being a "jinx" one hundred percent seriously.
"Since you have time, come to the place where I'm staying now," my friend said.
Maza was still at my place, and I didn't want to go far.
"Can't you explain it here first?"
"I can, but..." He hesitated. "If you don't see it with your own eyes, you might not believe me—even you."
"Is that so..."
"Are you really too busy to get away because you have something urgent to deal with? Then I can come back after you've taken care of it."
That was what he said, but his eyes were full of eager anticipation as he looked at me. If I rejected him here, he would definitely be crushed.
I made a stopping gesture. "Give me a minute. Let me think."
My friend could only wait patiently while I lowered my head and began to consider the matter—
What I had initially wanted from Maza was nothing more than the secrets she was hiding. Now that she had told me everything, I could say that half of my objective had already been accomplished.
The other half was to verify whether what she had told me was true.
In other words, I first had to keep her around for a few days and wait until she recovered enough to use her supernatural abilities. Everything depended on whether she could really use them. Put another way, Maza's matter had now changed from "urgent" to "something that couldn't be hurried."
I wanted to monitor Maza around the clock, but I couldn't possibly stay shut indoors the entire time before she recovered—no, actually, maybe I could? I could solve the problem of food with takeout, and keeping the front door locked the whole time was entirely feasible. More importantly, I was willing to do it.
However, after careful consideration, I still painfully made a different decision.
"Let's go. We'll set out now."
"Great!" My friend was instantly overjoyed.
"Wait for me here. I need to tidy up at home. It won't take long."
I had my friend wait outside while I returned home and closed the door. Then I went to the bedroom and told Maza that I needed to go out for a while. Maza didn't seem to realize that the "jinx constitution" she had mentioned would respond so quickly. She merely reminded me to be careful outside. To prevent her from taking back the pistol, I brought my backpack and hid the gun in its deepest compartment.
Maza couldn't move freely at the moment, so I didn't need to worry about her leaving on her own while I was gone. Still, concern made me irrational, and I couldn't help imagining all sorts of things, afraid that she would leave for good the moment I was away. My decision to go out with my friend also had another motive.
Solitude was the best way to reveal a person's genuine, natural state. I wanted to see what sort of state Maza would display in my home when I wasn't there.
For that, I needed to set up "surveillance cameras" in my home.
Naturally, it was impossible to arrange such things in so short a time while avoiding Maza's perception. Besides, I wasn't the sort of person who kept concealed surveillance cameras ready for use around his own home.
So I would use my supernatural ability here.
Back at the entryway, I turned around and extended a finger toward the air.
As for the exact nature of my supernatural ability, I'll keep that a secret for now.
In truth, what I possessed wasn't a complicated power that needed to be concealed to this extent. On the contrary, in the world of supernatural ability users, it was probably very simple and commonplace.
However, my friend was about to take me to witness an incident involving supernatural phenomena. In such a special situation, this unusual power might have a chance to prove useful. In many fantasy stories, supernatural ability users explained their powers while using them on their targets. I had always been a little envious of that sort of scene and wanted to try it when the time came.
For now, I would reveal only the "tip of the iceberg" of my power.
An orange-red point of light appeared on my fingertip. Like a firefly, it fluttered into the air. Then came a second, a third, a fourth...
More than a dozen "fireflies" drifted one after another into every corner of the room.
A mental connection existed between these little things and me. They were my "eyes" when I wasn't there in person.
After finishing the setup, I turned around, opened the door, and said to my friend waiting outside, "Sorry for the wait. Let's go."
He was raring to go. Together, we went downstairs, left the residential complex, and headed toward the place where he lived.
Silently, I sensed the sights and sounds inside my home through the "fireflies."
Strictly speaking, the information shared by the "fireflies" wasn't visual or auditory information. If I had to describe it, it was like my imagination uncontrollably drawing pictures and sounds in my consciousness.
I believed many people had experienced the climax of a movie replaying in their minds after they finished watching it, or a catchy song playing over and over in their heads after they heard it. This was more or less the same.
Right after I left, Maza still showed no reaction. She merely sat on the bed in silence, resting. But as time passed, she seemed to become fairly certain that I wouldn't be returning anytime soon. The relaxed expression on her face quickly faded, replaced by a cold and numb one.
She immediately got out of bed, put on her slippers, and slowly made her way to the entryway. She opened the door and stepped into the corridor outside, looking around.
Was she preparing to escape?
My heart jolted, and I wanted to return immediately.
But before I could turn around, she went back inside and casually pulled the door shut.
My friend noticed that something was wrong with my expression.
"Acheng, what happened?"
"Nothing. I just suddenly felt like sneezing..."
I temporarily calmed my pounding heart and continued peeking at that mysterious and beautiful girl, trying to figure out her every move.
Maza's back was taut, like that of a small stray dog newly adopted by an unfamiliar human. She looked this way and that around the room, occasionally turning around to glance at the entryway, probably staying alert in case I returned midway.
Now and then, she would rummage through the things around her, picking them up and then carefully returning them to their original places. But she didn't seem to be searching for anything in particular. It looked more like she was simply investigating my background.
Perhaps she wasn't the only one who seemed mysterious to me. From her perspective, I was probably just as mysterious.
Once I realized this, I felt a little pleased. So I'm a "mysterious character" too?
From the beginning, her attitude toward a suspicious character like me had been bristling with hostility, displaying obvious resistance and aggression. Yet after I dealt with the police, she had suddenly lowered her guard. I had wondered earlier whether my act of pretending to be a good person had deceived her, but now I had more or less figured it out.
The reason she had suddenly become so easygoing was probably a very practical one—I had a gun.
However, even from such a disadvantageous position, she had never once tried to curry favor with me. Was that because she possessed extraordinary integrity, or because she felt that such a drastic change in attitude would instead make me dislike her?
When all was said and done, why had the police identified her as a serial killer?
Why had she been wearing a patient's gown when I first found her? Had she been staying in some hospital before that? Perhaps she was a patient who had escaped from a psychiatric hospital, and everything she had told me was nothing but the ravings of a madwoman.
I was no longer in a hurry to obtain the answers. There was still plenty of time. I wanted to slowly savor this extraordinary cohabitation.
-
My friend led me to a nearby café and sat down with me, his mind weighed down by worry. I focused my attention on him first.
"To avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings later, I need to explain the whole story to you before formally letting you see that thing," he said heavily.
"Go ahead." I gestured for him to continue.
He began by asking a question: "You still remember where I live, right?"
"I remember. It's the house where someone died." I answered.
Before you continue