Searched Everywhere, Found Nothing

"A Rui is right. At the very least, we need to make ourselves known around the neighborhood and contact some of their clients to prove we've put in a serious effort to find them," I agreed with Fatty.

Fatty's expression grew even more somber, clearly dreading how troublesome it would be to "make ourselves known."

It's like being an extra in a TV show. If you don't have the chance to become famous overnight, and you don't have wealthy patrons showering you with money, all you can do is work hard to be recognizable, at least earning a reputation for being diligent and dedicated.

"Qi Ge, can you at least give me a name?" Fatty looked at me pleadingly.

I shook my head. "From what I heard this morning, there should be three of them: two men and one woman. They're all young. One is surnamed Liu, and another is surnamed Ye."

"What's the point of that!" Fatty wailed to the heavens.

I ignored him and continued listening to the "New Year's Ghost Fetus" recordings. By the time work ended, I had listened to all the audio files. On my computer, I had the surveillance footage from Qingye's office open, paused at the very last second.

The footage was a bit blurry, but Yu Meng and Wang Fangjie were holding hands, just like a normal loving couple.

Who could have guessed that the man had already been possessed by a malevolent ghost?

Yu Meng was dead, Wang Fangjie was missing, and Xiao Zheng and the ghost fetus were also missing. Qingye's people never found the two ghosts and the person who went missing. Could they be living in some corner of this world? Perhaps I've even brushed past them...

"Lin Qi, are you okay?" Guo Yujie waved her hand in front of my eyes.

"Oh, I'm fine." I looked up and saw Fatty and Pangzi still there. I called out, "Add two more people."

This time, I understood why Qingye had recorded so many audio files. It was because one of their members could hear the ghosts' voices in the recordings. And their "boss" could actually shatter a ghost with a single punch, which truly surprised me.

"What?" All three of them didn't understand.

"I'm saying, there are a total of five people in the Qingye agency."

"Oh, so we have names now?" Fatty's eyes lit up.

"No." I hesitated. "There might be someone we can look for." I flipped through the files a few pages. "Zhang Dong, former front office manager at Junli Hotel. He contacted Qingye Paranormal Agency."

With a name, a surname, and an employer, it would be easier to find him.

Guo Yujie turned to ask the other two, "Have you searched online? For this agency to get business, it's either through referrals or advertisements. Their services aren't the kind for legitimate ads, so it must be small online ads, right?"

Pangzi sighed. "We already checked. There's nothing!"

"But Yu Meng contacted them through the internet," I recalled one of the audio files I'd heard.

"They might have deleted it," Pangzi guessed.

Fatty had already called the police station and was constantly sweet-talking them.

This matter had indeed troubled the police station, making them investigate quite a few people, and they would likely have to investigate even more. Fortunately, we're from the demolition office, and we'd communicated with the neighborhood committee and the police station beforehand. They were all understanding and cooperative with our work.

After a long conversation, Fatty's face suddenly lit up. He scribbled something down. "Thank you so much! Hey, I'll treat you to a meal sometime! Alright, alright, thank you!" He hung up and waved a piece of paper at us. "Finally, someone who's alive!"

Guo Yujie rolled her eyes and went to the restroom. When she returned and saw our dejected expressions, she asked curiously, "What's wrong?"

I gestured towards Fatty with my chin. "Zhang Dong left Qingye's contact information, a mobile number, but..."

"It's been disconnected," Fatty slumped onto the table.

"You can't find someone with a mobile number?" Guo Yujie asked, confused.

"No real-name registration!" Fatty tugged at his hair.

Guo Yujie was speechless. "What about the names? You don't even know a single name?"

"No, we only know the surname Liu," Pangzi replied. He didn't look as hopeless as Fatty, but he was still dejected.

"Well, good luck then." Guo Yujie offered a casual word of encouragement and started packing up. "I'm off work."

"Aren't you going to Gongnong Sixth Village?" Fatty asked.

"It's already after work," Guo Yujie replied, puzzled.

"Right, it's after work, so the people we're looking for are also off work," Fatty said matter-of-factly, his voice trailing off lifelessly.

"Don't you know? Lin Qi and I are responsible for two elderly gentlemen. They don't work," Guo Yujie said with a sly smile. "Besides, those two are visiting relatives and aren't in the city right now."

"You stop working just because they're not here? Don't you have any other targets?" Fatty asked indignantly.

"Not for now." Guo Yujie picked up her bag, waved goodbye with a flourish, and then clenched her fist. "Bye-bye! Good luck!"

"You little..." Fatty cursed.

"I'll go with you to Gongnong Sixth Village," I said to Fatty. "I'll get the files for you."

Fatty's face lit up with surprise. "Qi Ge! You're my real brother!"

The three of us then went to Gongnong Sixth Village together.

As Fatty drove, he said, "I think that place is really too strange. Look at the address: Building 6, 6th Floor, Gongnong Sixth Village, Lane 666, Guoqiang Road. A string of sixes!"

"Isn't that pretty 6?" Pangzi chimed in.

"Six my ass!" Fatty's temper had become a bit volatile after today.

It was only when Fatty mentioned it that I realized the address of the Qingye Paranormal Agency was indeed quite coincidental.

"I think they deliberately chose this place to open a paranormal agency," Fatty continued. "Otherwise, how could it be such a coincidence that all four households on that floor lent out their apartments, and they managed to borrow them all?"

"Gongnong Sixth Village used to be company housing, and the residents were all former colleagues. If they could convince one, with someone backing them up, maybe they could convince them all," Pangzi offered another possibility.

"You still haven't found the property owners?" I asked.

Whether the owner of the property and the owner of Qingye are the same person, we can't be sure. There are no property transaction records, but the transaction might have been completed privately, or the original owner might have died, and the heir inherited the house without transferring the title. If we really want to find someone, it would be better to look for the original property owner rather than someone from Qingye Agency. The archives at the real estate bureau are damaged and the names are illegible. As Fatty said, this neighborhood was originally allocated housing by a company. If we need to find someone, we can inquire with that company and other old residents.

"No. Those are old archives too, and they're handwritten! I had someone look through them all afternoon, and finally found them, but the handwriting is so messy, I can't read a single word," the skinny guy said with a dejected look.

I could only pat the skinny guy sympathetically and ask, "Do the other employees not know either?"

"We called all afternoon, and no one remembers."

There were no empty parking spots in the neighborhood, so the skinny guy parked in a nearby mall's parking lot. The three of us had dinner first, then took a walk to the neighborhood. We entered building number six and went up to the fifth floor. The skinny guy couldn't wait to wave goodbye to me.

I was both amused and annoyed, but there was nothing I could do. I climbed up to the sixth floor.

Perhaps it was because of what the skinny guy said, or perhaps it was because I listened to those audio recordings in the afternoon, but I felt like the temperature on the sixth floor was indeed much colder than below.

Maybe it's the lack of human presence. I thought to myself and took out my key to open the door.

A notice from the police station was still stuck on the door, indicating that they had forced entry. It also included our relocation office's contact number, asking the owner to contact us for the key upon their return.

As I opened the door, the notice rustled, making a "huala huala" sound that was particularly jarring in the silent sixth floor. I couldn't help but glance back at the stairwell.