Get Lost

January 15th, windy.

I...

I didn't know what to write anymore.

Inescapable despair had swallowed me whole. I had even abandoned the plan to leave behind a suicide note.

Because I didn't know what to write, or who to write it for. In the end, it would all be destroyed by the darkness beneath the sunlight anyway.

All I could do was keep this diary and find a way to hide it in the most concealed place within my sight, hoping someone who came after would find it, leave this place, and never return!

Remember this well.

If you reading these words were evil itself, then laugh at my corpse. But from some corner of heaven—or hell—I would likewise cast upon you the most venomous, sincere, and harrowing curse, for all eternity, without end.

January 16th, cloudy.

I had expected it, yet when my final hope was shattered, I suppose I suddenly realized: did I, already as despairing and cowardly as a maggot, still possess even the slightest shred of hope?

But this spark, so faint that even I could not detect it, was finally extinguished on this day.

The entire continent—or perhaps the entire planet—had had all external communication equipment completely destroyed. This place had become a stagnant pool, more hopeless than despair itself, its final destination.

I had to go. Using the satellite equipment might already have alerted them. Stranger, wish me luck.

Wish me...

That before I became nourishment for evil, I could end my own life with my own hands.

January 17th, sunny.

I entered this hotel through the ventilation duct. The hotel's name no longer mattered.

Because I was destined to die here. So was this diary.

The outside had been completely occupied. Their whispers had destroyed every one of my nerves, lingering endlessly and becoming nightmares.

Every time I jolted awake in the dead of night, I had to desperately recall whether I had talked in my sleep, whether I had made any noise while dreaming that they might have heard.

Perhaps I was the last survivor in this area. Since two days ago, those terrifying wails in the night had stopped echoing everywhere.

But why did I miss them a little? Those agonized cries, the most despairing and shrill sounds made by my compatriots after being claimed by evil...

They gave me the comforting feeling that there were still others like me.

I had become sick. I knew it, but I couldn't stop myself. If the next second I picked up the pistol beside me and blew my own head apart, I would not be surprised in the slightest.

As he read, Tang Chuan fell asleep, and slept quite sweetly.

If the diary's owner had known that the most agonizing words he left behind in his final moments were being read as a bedtime story by some heartless person, perhaps his list of people to curse would have gained another name.

Tang Chuan once again dreamed of Azure Star. He saw old friends and his former homeland, saw the irreversible traces time had left upon them.

But before he could fully immerse himself in it, a loud bang woke him.

Tang Chuan immediately sat up from the sofa and looked toward the source of the noise.

The Star Hunter, who had been sitting on the floor, acted before him, darting out like the wind.

Tang Chuan caught up from behind and arrived at the "crime scene" almost at the same time as him.

Only Tang Chuan and his group were staying on the hotel's top floor. Before checking in, he had also told the front desk not to disturb them unless he personally had business with them.

Yet now, this waiter in a hotel uniform had bypassed the landing pod and entered the top floor through the ventilation duct.

The concealed trap set by the Star Hunter caught him in an instant. Several nearly invisible ropes bound him firmly to the floor.

The sound just now had been made when he rolled out of the ventilation duct.

Seeing Tang Chuan and Nokton arrive in the blink of an eye, the tightly bound waiter began trembling in fright. "I-I am a hotel waiter! I came to ask whether you, Mr. Tang Chuan, needed any special services!"

"Heh!"

Tang Chuan couldn't be bothered with him and simply kicked him twice, dragging him through the door.

Only then did he ask, "Didn't I say not to come up unless there was something important? Is this your hotel's service attitude? You ignored the landing pod and crawled through the ducts. What are you, Spider-Man?"

The waiter had been kicked senseless and hurriedly argued, "I... this was a private side job! The hotel can't know about it! Mr. Tang Chuan, I really didn't lie to you! Please don't tell the manager!"

Tang Chuan asked no more questions and directly had Quintessa scan his memories.

A glimmer flashed in Quintessa's eyes. Her expression eventually turned somewhat unpleasant as she said to Tang Chuan in his mind, "According to what I found, that is indeed the case. He wanted to... take on some side jobs? If guests weren't around, he'd also secretly take a few valuables while he was at it. He does this often.

"But it definitely isn't that simple. Right now, the more normal it seems, the stranger it is!"

Tang Chuan thought so too.

This was a fairly upscale hotel. Would it really employ such a low-grade waiter?

Even if it did, climbing through the ventilation duct from the lower floors was far too brazen. Could the hotel's air ducts really connect the entire building?

A secret passage would make more sense!

Tang Chuan remained silent, expressionlessly observing the waiter.

He noticed that amid the man's panic, he was still glancing around from the corners of his eyes.

Was he really so unafraid of death?

Tang Chuan stepped forward and slapped him hard twice, stunning him. "Tell the truth. Who sent you, and what was your purpose?"

The waiter saw stars from the blows, his cheeks swelling as he said fearfully, "D-Don't hit me! I really wasn't lying! I admit that aside from taking private jobs, I was also scouting the place, planning to take a few things after you left. But I truly meant no harm!"

Tang Chuan sneered. "And you call that meaning no harm? Looks like you're not that scared. You're still looking around even now. Don't tell me you're scouting the place again?"

The waiter immediately stopped glancing around and begged, "I-I know I was wrong! I won't target you again. My friend can get you a discount through the back end. Please don't report me. I can waive your room fees for the next few days!"

Tang Chuan looked at him for a while, then said flatly, "Fine. Go. Just don't come looking for trouble again. I'll let you off this time."

"Ah..."

Before the waiter could even react, the ropes around him automatically came undone and fell to the floor.

He remained dazed for a while. Only after Tang Chuan wiped his hands and went to the side to drink did he come to his senses. "Thank you! As long as you don't report me, I guarantee you'll receive the discount at the end! Please!"

Tang Chuan said, "Get lost!"

The waiter didn't dare say another word. He scrambled away and crawled into the ventilation duct.

Nokton hesitated before asking, "We're just letting him go? Something is off here."

As he spoke, he knelt on one knee and reached beneath the sofa.

In the end, he pulled out an almost transparent, wafer-thin listening device and crushed it in his hand.

He explained, "He slipped this under there when you kicked him inside earlier. There is definitely something wrong with him."

Tang Chuan set his wineglass on the counter. "I know there's something wrong with him. That's why I let him go. You have a new mission: monitor him. See who he contacts, and use this to contact me."

A pattern appeared beside the Star Hunter's cheek: a communicator derived from the Fantasy Attribute.

Nokton nodded. "All right. I put tracking powder on him earlier. No matter who he meets, I'll know at a glance."

"Go."

"Mm."