The Person Who Doesn't Exist in Memory

A middle-aged man, whose face couldn't be seen, sat rigidly and stiffly on Yang Jian's bed. He raised his hand, holding the first newspaper, motionless, as if he were genuinely engrossed in the news.

Everything seemed normal on the surface, with nothing out of the ordinary.

However, the dimness of the room was entirely unsuitable for reading a newspaper.

Moreover, this person had maintained this posture ever since Yang Jian went online, never changing it. An ordinary person would find this impossible to do.

The only change was that this person had moved from the living room sofa to the bedside in the room.

Only the position had shifted.

From far away to close.

This closing distance didn't bring any sense of security; instead, it felt like an inexplicable threat and fear.

Why would his father suddenly sit next to him to read a newspaper?

Did he have this habit before?

Looking at the memorial portrait hanging on the cabinet in the room, and listening to Liu Xiaoyu's urgent prompts.

Yang Jian realized something was very wrong.

If the file Liu Xiaoyu mentioned was true, then was this person still his father?

It seemed so, but also not.

Did his father really die in a car accident when he was young?

In Yang Jian's mind, the person before him was undeniably his father, and everything felt so natural, without a trace of falsehood.

"Despite all this, it still feels very wrong."

Yang Jian immediately withdrew his hand, not bothering to move the newspaper blocking the man. Instead, he quickly grabbed his phone, stood up abruptly, and retreated.

He tried to distance himself from the man reading the newspaper.

Had he been influenced by something, causing his memory to go awry?

Or was everything before him just a dream, not real?

Or perhaps the entire apartment building was strange?

"No matter what, I need to get out of here first, and then I'll figure out what's going on." Yang Jian couldn't be sure if he was the problem, if his father was the problem, or if there was a problem with his surroundings.

He cautiously retreated from the room into the living room.

He didn't disturb his father, who was reading the newspaper.

As he exited the room, he tried to get a glimpse of the man's face with a hint of curiosity.

However, before Yang Jian could get a clear look, he noticed a corner of the newspaper was stained crimson, as if soaked in blood. The intense redness seemed about to drip like blood.

A newspaper stained with blood!

Would a normal person read such a newspaper?

Yang Jian's eyes narrowed. At this moment, he finally believed Liu Xiaoyu. His father had indeed died in a car accident when he was in elementary school. The file she had was real, so the person who appeared to be his father was impossible, because the dead do not resurrect.

If his father didn't exist, then the man sitting on the bed reading the newspaper could only be one thing: a ghost.

His heart immediately trembled.

When?

When did this ghost sneak into the house? When did it appear inside? When were his memories altered?

Or had he been living with this ghost for the past few years?

If not for Liu Xiaoyu's phone call, would he have never been awakened?

Thinking carefully, Yang Jian felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Just as he took a step out of the room.

The man reading the newspaper suddenly moved. His head turned towards Yang Jian at an eerie speed.

Yang Jian immediately stumbled backward in fear.

The man had no face, no features, only skin and flesh.

"Run."

Yang Jian roared inwardly. Without a second thought, he turned and fled.

He was completely certain now.

This man was a ghost.

However, the moment he turned his head, his vision went black, as if he had bumped into something.

A newspaper.

Sticky, foul-smelling, as if stained with thick blood.

The newspaper stuck to his face, adhering to it tightly. He instinctively tried to tear it off, but the blood-stained newspaper felt like it had become part of his facial skin. When he pulled, his face throbbed with intense pain, and it was difficult to tear off.

"Has this ghost started attacking me?" Yang Jian immediately realized this.

He had already encountered two waves of ghost attacks at school before.

"Only ghosts can deal with ghosts."

He gritted his teeth, and suddenly an eye on the back of his hand broke through the skin and flesh, emitting a faint red glow.

When the palm with this eye tore off the newspaper covering his face, it had an effect.

The newspaper was gradually peeling off his face, like a bandage being slowly ripped off.

However, at this very moment.

That ghost didn't seem willing to let him go so easily.

Yang Jian felt the ghost approaching, as if it were pulling the newspaper from behind.

A terrifying force surged.

The newspaper wrapped around his face contracted again, sticking tightly to his face. An intense feeling of suffocation and dizziness rapidly spread.

If this continued, he wouldn't be killed by the ghost; he would be suffocated to death by this bizarre newspaper.

"Since you want to play, I'll play with you. You're a ghost, but I'm no longer human." Yang Jian let out a beast-like growl from his throat.

Two red eyes suddenly appeared on his face.

The newspaper at the location where the eyes grew immediately made a tearing sound and was instantly ripped open.

The moment the newspaper was torn open, the terrifying pulling force from behind also weakened considerably.

"Again," Yang Jian gritted his teeth secretly.

He couldn't use the power of these eyes too much; each use brought him one step closer to death. But he had no choice but to use them now. Without borrowing the power of the ghost within his body, he would die right now.

Another eye emerged on his forehead.

"Chih~!"

The blood-stained newspaper stuck to his forehead was torn open again.

The pulling force from behind lightened again, and the feeling of suffocation and dizziness rapidly receded.

"Continue."

Yang Jian knew that the power of the ghost within his body was still insufficient.

The fifth eye emerged on his neck.

Another opening appeared where the eye was constricting his neck.

At this moment, Yang Jian exerted force with his hand. With so many openings, the newspaper wrapped around his face was instantly torn to shreds.

The suffocation and stuffiness completely disappeared.

Great gulps of air rushed in.

Yang Jian's face now had a total of four eyes, emitting a faint red glow.

He looked back.

There was no one behind him. Only the blood-stained shredded newspaper scattered on the ground.

"Get out of here."

Yang Jian's heart pounded, not daring to linger. He didn't take anything and immediately opened the door, quickly leaving the house.

And not long after he left.

A person walked out of the room he had been in before.

This person picked up the shredded newspaper scattered on the ground and pieced it back together.

Soon, the newspaper returned to its original state, still stained with scarlet blood. However, on the scarlet newspaper, a facial outline had appeared.

That face was Yang Jian's.

This person picked up the newspaper and, as if nothing had happened, walked to the nearby sofa and sat down. He continued to raise his arm, staring motionlessly at the newspaper in front of him, in the same posture as before.

Until several hours later.

Suddenly, this person moved.

He slowly lowered his arm. He was no longer without features, without a face.

At this moment, he displayed Yang Jian's facial features.

However, on this "Yang Jian's" face, the areas where the eyes had previously appeared were blank, as if several parts of a clear photograph had been forcibly cut out.

The face was not perfect.