Night Corpse Collector (New Book Seeking Recommendation Tickets)

Fang Xiu turned on the phone he had kept switched off and tossed it onto the table. Then he took out the things he had gotten from the White Killer.

"A wallet, a phone, a watch!"

"And a pistol, a sniper rifle, and an electric bike!"

Other than the electric bike parked downstairs, all five items were laid out in a row before Fang Xiu. The sniper rifle was packed inside a takeout box.

Inside, Fang Xiu also saw a spare pistol magazine and bullets.

The first thing Fang Xiu picked up was the other man's phone. In this day and age, phones recorded everything about a person's habits and social circle. If he wanted to find clues, the phone would definitely be the quickest route.

However, Fang Xiu discovered that the phone was not even locked. There was nothing inside—no contacts, no text messages, no photos. Even the apps were factory defaults, with no signs of any logins. It was so clean that it looked as though it had just been taken out of a phone store.

"Could it have two systems? One for everyday use, and another encrypted system?" Fang Xiu examined the unbranded smartphone and felt that possibility was highly likely. He decided to find someone to look at it later.

There were two thousand yuan and three cards in the wallet, but nothing that could prove the man's identity. One was a Blue Bank Card Fang Xiu did not recognize, with a flowing DW and a card number on the front. The back listed the bank's phone number and website. Fang Xiu searched for it, but could not find the bank's name, much less the website.

The next card looked even more mysterious. Its back bore a Black Vortex, while its front showed a single eye. There was nothing written on it at all, making its purpose impossible to determine.

The final card belonged to a bar. It was red, but not the usual kind of red. The moment Fang Xiu saw it, he felt that its color was exactly the same as the blood that had gushed from the White Killer's neck—dim, blood-red, and chilling.

The words Black Sugar Bar were written on it in Chinese. Its logo was a piece of black candy, though Fang Xiu thought it looked more like a lip print.

"103 Central West Road, Shanghe District!" Fang Xiu memorized the address and decided to check it out later. The White Killer had carried this bar card with him, which meant that he either frequented the bar or that there was something unusual about it. Either way, it was worth a visit.

Fang Xiu threw away the wallet and slipped the money and cards into his pocket.

After fiddling with it for a while, Fang Xiu picked up the pistol. It was a Glock 17 Pistol, with the safety above the trigger, easy to spot at a glance. It looked extremely cool. Fang Xiu usually liked watching gunfight movies, but this was his first time seeing and touching the real thing.

Fang Xiu disengaged the safety again, gripped the pistol with both hands, and aimed at the sky outside the window. Then he made a gunshot sound with his mouth. "Bang!"

After playing with it for a while, Fang Xiu put it away in satisfaction. He sorted through everything the White Killer had left behind and began his next round of investigation.

He found a pen in the room and pulled a Notebook from the pocket of his loose jeans.

Fang Xiu did not keep a diary, but he liked recording important matters to keep himself from forgetting them. He did not use his phone for such things. Compared to that, he preferred a notebook. Perhaps it was a habit formed in childhood; he generally handled matters in an orderly fashion.

Fang Xiu recalled his dream from last night, every time he had died, and the enormous Silver Clock in the White Space. Bit by bit, he began analyzing the strange ability he possessed. It had been what allowed him to turn the tables and kill his opponent in desperate circumstances, and it would likely become an important support for his survival in the future. Fang Xiu needed to understand everything about this strange ability and the Silver Clock.

"1. Silver Clock. I suspect it may be related to my ability to be reborn."

"2. Rebirth is triggered by death. Every death automatically activates the Silver Clock and sends me back approximately fifteen minutes."

"3. With every death, the Black Pollution seeping up from beneath the White Space and Silver Clock contaminates my soul. The White Space and Silver Clock may be the price I have to pay for dying and being reborn. Therefore, death and rebirth are likely not without limits. After reaching a certain number of times, I may die outright, or something dreadful, terrifying, and bizarre may happen."

"4. To be supplemented."

Closing the notebook and stretching lazily, Fang Xiu picked up his phone. Sure enough, it was filled with missed calls, all from the manager of the home appliance company where he worked. There were also several text messages, their tone full of frustration and anger, directly telling Fang Xiu not to come in tomorrow.

Fang Xiu had just graduated and had worked as a salesperson at that company for nearly a year. However, the company's business mainly involved maintaining old clients. A rookie like Fang Xiu had entered only to be ostracized and suppressed by his senior colleagues. Even when he achieved something and developed new clients, his superiors took them away.

With no other choice, Fang Xiu had, in utter helplessness, secretly sold the company's client information behind his superior's back. Or he took the company's orders and had other companies handle them, pocketing the middleman's cut. Or he squeezed out the warehouse manager who had handled logistics, then signed on with another logistics company for kickbacks and commissions.

Only by doing that could the meager sum he earned barely sustain his life.

"Sigh, there's no helping it. Life!"

"It's just this hard!"

But now, it seemed that Fang Xiu could no longer keep doing that difficult job. He could only send a resignation text. He did not even want to go back to pack his things or collect this month's salary. He had already taken nearly everything he was entitled to anyway. He would leave this bit of pay for those heartless, black-hearted bosses to see, so they would know what an upright and selfless employee he was.

His diligent work at the company had never been for money at all, but for his dreams. Let filthy money pollute their eyes and shame their souls.

By then, the sky was darkening. The day's many sudden incidents had drained Fang Xiu to the point of utter exhaustion. He had only eaten one bun all day, and now he was starving.

Fang Xiu went to a food stall across from the hostel and ordered twice-cooked pork and soup. After eating, he fell into bed and slept until one in the morning, when an alarm clock woke him.

Fang Xiu was still very sleepy, but he knew he had to get up immediately. Under the cover of night, while no one was around, he had to deal with the corpse in the alley on Park Road.

Throwing the corpse into the narrow sewer had only been a temporary measure. Fang Xiu was not stupid enough to think that settled everything.

In a few days, when the corpse rotted and began to stink, someone would definitely discover it. By then, it would be easy to trace it back to Fang Xiu through surveillance footage and investigation. Moreover, there were too many strange things about that corpse. Especially after death, its exposed appearance did not resemble a human at all, but a monster.

Fang Xiu did not want to get tangled up in that kind of trouble. He had to take advantage of the moment and dispose of the corpse quickly.

As long as he got rid of the corpse, the Killer's identity was mysterious and strange, and he was a foreigner. Given enough time, the matter would fade away.

Fang Xiu took out the Tarp, Gunny Sack, and Rope he had prepared that afternoon. He turned on his phone, checked the route he had marked long ago, avoided places where traffic police or patrol officers might be out at night, and steered clear of roads with heavy surveillance. Then he prepared to set off.

Fang Xiu left silently. The hostel owner at the front desk was asleep, and Fang Xiu did not want anyone to know that he had left in the middle of the night.