A Monotonous City

Wu Xian had concluded that the criminal was not mentally ill for three reasons.

First: If the evil spirit the criminal spoke of did not exist, then whether he was genuinely mentally ill or faking it, Wu Xian wanted him dead.

Second: If the evil spirit did exist, then the criminal had not lied, and it was right to conclude that he had no mental illness.

Third: The detective's attitude was the most important factor.

After all, Wu Xian was not really a doctor. Since the detective wanted the criminal declared free of mental illness, going along with that would minimize the risk of exposing his identity as a doctor.

He retraced the route he had taken.

The office door opened, and a little nurse poked her head in, looking at Wu Xian in surprise.

Wu Xian still had a few things to prepare.

If he had to describe it, it was monotonous and dull.

His irritation did not all come from that dog.

A brightly colored revolving sign hung outside the hair salon, playing upbeat music. Its avant-garde, unconventional style stood out against the whole city.

Wu Xian searched through all the patient records. Every file had a patient photo, but none of them showed the criminal he had just seen.

The buildings were all about the same height, and their style was rather conservative. Most were painted in pale colors like light red and light blue; bright colors were almost nowhere to be seen. Signs welcoming visitors to Xianwei City stood everywhere along the road. At a glance, the streets looked as if they had been copied and pasted.

On the way home.

Wu Xian drove slowly, observing the city.

[Enjoy your birthday. Don't do anything beyond the bounds of family.]

Wu Xian's teeth felt a little sour.

Wu Xian tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, but for a long time he couldn't make sense of it.

He turned the office upside down, searching for any information he could find.

Wu Xian had planned to stop here and ask around for information.

The call ended.

Gradually, the sun sank in the west, and dusk fell.

Wu Xian hurriedly stepped on the gas.

This city was strange.

A few things about it particularly caught Wu Xian's attention.

First, there were an unusually large number of plastic surgery clinics in the city. There was one every short distance, and advertisements for plastic surgery were everywhere.

Wu Xian backed into the garage. As soon as he stepped out, he heard a dog bark.

Wu Xian thought for a moment, then called the Jia detective in charge of the case using the number on the appointment slip.

Putting up with the barking, he hesitated at the door for a moment before opening it and going inside.

He gripped the railing, staring in terror at the window of Doctor Xu's house. A large smear of blood covered the transparent glass, slowly running downward.

The board beneath the desk was pitted, as if someone had carved words into it and then scraped them away. The notebook was only half as thick as its cover, with many pages torn out...

It was well after dark before Wu Xian finally arrived home.

Perhaps...

While searching for clues earlier, Wu Xian had already found a map of the city, along with his home address, information about his family members, and the keys to a Guandi Electric Car.

When he saw this scene...

He soon noticed quite a few things that seemed out of place.

He wanted to stay a little longer, but the Record of the Devoted in his eyes began to flicker.

He had no means of protecting himself right now. He absolutely could not let an evil spirit target him at a time like this.

But Doctor Xu had a complete family in this blessed land? Was Wu Xian supposed to play house this time?

He needed a weapon, but the only weapons he could find in the psychiatric hospital were some sedatives and syringes. Taking advantage of his position, he packed them up and took them with him.

He had never had a normal family. He had been raised by a slovenly old detective, so...

But the first thing the criminal had said when he saw Wu Xian was:

On the steps outside the clinic sat a plump woman with vivid lips and pale skin. Holding a pipe, she watched Wu Xian's car the whole time with her bulging, goldfish-like eyes.

The man looked at Wu Xian, then at his house. Gradually, fear appeared in his vacant eyes. He let out a startled cry and hurriedly closed the window.

And so Wu Xian drove on, stopping now and then to look around.

"Hello, Detective Jia..."

Another oddity.

"The criminal escaped on the way to prison. We've completely lost track of him. Doctor Xu, if you see him, run immediately, then contact us..."

A moment later.

The little nurse hustled Wu Xian out.

"Dog..."

"Ah, Doctor Xu, why haven't you gone home yet? It's your birthday today. Your parents, wife, and daughter are all waiting for you at home. Work can wait a day or two. Hurry home."

'Leave the past behind and start over.'

It seemed that going home was something he had to do.

'Change yourself and begin a new life.'

And...

Wu Xian was terribly annoyed by the black dog's barking. "Hey, could you keep your dog under control?"

The evil spirit had not appeared yet, but this blessed land made him uneasy. He needed more information to feel safe.

'We meet again.'

Just then, another line of text appeared in Wu Xian's eyes.

But before going home...

Wu Xian wasn't looking forward to it at all.

Wu Xian returned to the office.

His home was a small detached house, surrounded by houses of the same design and patches of greenery that all looked alike. Everywhere he looked was nearly identical; only the house numbers differed.

Rather than guess on his own, he might as well ask directly.

It seemed this neighbor had a problem too.

'Painless Plastic Surgery, quick healing.'

It was because of his family.

The neighbor's downstairs window was open.

But just as Wu Xian slowed down, he saw a customer getting their hair cut inside suddenly gush blood from the neck. Some invisible force dragged the body into a room at the back of the salon, hidden behind a gauzy curtain...

Wu Xian saw that his neighbor had a Big Black Dog, fat and strong. It barked furiously at him, baring its teeth and taking an attacking stance. If not for the railing, it would have already pounced.

The line of text made Wu Xian sigh.

It was a hair salon called Perfect Hair Art.

A gaunt man, his face ashen and his eyes vacant, stood by the window drinking coffee.

Compared with being sued for violating hospital regulations, Wu Xian was more worried about having his brain eaten by an evil spirit at home.

And this body had irregular scars on patches of skin on its arms and thighs, as if it had once suffered extensive burns.

The bloody liquid was mixed with foam.

It was still fresh.