After finishing the fried rice, Alice rubbed her stomach again.

  This time it wasn’t hunger—she was clearly full. Yet she still seemed a little reluctant to let go, her eyes lingering longingly on the now spotless plate. Not a single grain of rice remained.

  At first I’d half-expected her to react like some wide-eyed primitive tasting modern food for the first time. Instead, seeing how carefully she treated something I’d thrown together made me feel unexpectedly flattered. This was the first time in my life anyone had treated something I made with such genuine appreciation.

  Was it really something I “made,” though? All I did was dump takeout leftovers and rice into a pan, heat it up, and stir. My actual contribution probably didn’t even reach ten percent.

  “Tonight this is the best I could manage,” I said, a bit embarrassed but determined. “Tomorrow I’ll prepare something proper. So don’t look so disappointed—next time it’ll be even better.”

  “Really?”

  Her head snapped up, eyes sparkling with sudden brightness. Almost immediately she realized how eager she sounded and gave a shy little cough to cover it.

  “Really.” Then, unable to resist slipping in my real motive, I added, “And if you stay a few more days, you’ll get to try even more different kinds of good food.”

  Her expression dimmed at once.

  “…You’ve been really kind to me. I don’t know what you’re actually thinking, but you’ve taken me in, fed me, looked after me. I have to thank you. Thank you.” She spoke slowly. “And precisely because of that, I have to keep my distance. Otherwise, sooner or later you’ll come to despise me, curse me, see me as an enemy, and regret ever getting involved with me.”

  “I would never do that.” I tried my hardest to make the promise sound completely sincere.

  “If you don’t, it only means you’ll die before you get the chance.”

  She seemed to have built an impenetrable wall around herself. My words couldn’t reach the part of her she kept locked away.

  I cursed myself for not being some smooth-talking playboy who could charm his way through a girl’s defenses at a moment like this. No matter how unwilling I was to give up, right now I had no choice but to back off.

  Besides, I didn’t have time to linger. The sun had long since set; the sky was completely dark. My only reason for coming home tonight was to update Alice on my plans and ask about her jinx nature and how she’d crossed over. I had to finish investigating the anomaly in the fifteenth-floor apartment before morning.

  As I stood up, I said, “I need to head out again. I might not be back tonight.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, instantly alert.

  “To a bathhouse with a friend. After the bath we might grab some late-night food and maybe stay out all night.” I started bullshitting freely. “If it were up to me, I’d love to bring you along, but you probably shouldn’t be going out right now, right?”

  “Yes. I’m currently wanted by the authorities.” She nodded with visible regret.

  “So just rest here and take it easy. Like I said before, help yourself to anything in the house. Watch TV, use the computer, or read some of my novels if you want.”

  As I spoke, I walked over to the cabinet beside the TV, pulled down a suspense thriller, and handed it to her. “Have you ever read this kind of book before?”

  She glanced at the cover, flipped through a few pages, then shook her head. “No. But since you recommend it, I’ll give it a try.”

  With that, she got up from the dining table, settled onto the nearby sofa, and actually began reading.

  So she could read.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  If the apocalypse really existed, what would literacy rates have been like there? Would she even understand all the modern concepts that show up in a suspense novel? Yet in our conversations, she’d never once seemed confused. Maybe she’d received a decent education even in that ruined world.

  There was no such thing as “calling the police” in an apocalypse, yet the first time we met she’d asked me not to call them—that could be explained by her earlier encounter with officers. But there were other inconsistencies. Even in peaceful times, people from different eras develop communication gaps. How much wider would the divide be between someone from a civilized era and someone from the end of the world? Yet I’d hardly felt any such gap when talking to her.

  At the same time, certain small details betrayed the survivor in her—instincts honed by apocalypse.

  Once again I realized I genuinely wanted to believe her. That’s why I’d unconsciously overlooked so many red flags before, and even now I kept searching for proof that she really was a time-crosser from the end of days. Somewhere along the way, I’d become increasingly fascinated—not just by the mystery, but by this enigmatic girl herself.

  I picked up my backpack, stepped out the door, and turned to close it behind me.

  Through the narrowing gap, I quietly watched her small figure bent over the book on the sofa until the door clicked shut completely.

  —

  I returned to the residential complex where the fifteenth-floor apartment was located.

  I sent “Fireflies” ahead to scout the area around the room.

  Although I’d heard the place would be sealed again as a crime scene, it was obvious that had just been an excuse to shoo away ordinary people like me and Chang’an. There was no one actually guarding it. From what I could tell, in Luo Shan’s eyes there were no more clues worth searching for—only some unpleasant remnants that needed to be dealt with before morning.

  I had the “Fireflies” sweep the surrounding neighborhood in advance. No sign of anyone from Luo Shan keeping watch. Were they lying low, or was there really no one? If the latter, it felt almost negligent. Even I knew a Fallen Demon Hunter might still be interested in that room; actual police would never overlook something like that.

  But Luo Shan wasn’t the police, and the Huntress woman herself had admitted the organization lacked proper investigative experience. Combat ability aside, when it came to criminal investigation, they were nowhere near the level of the professionals I’d worked with during those old cases involving feudal superstition groups outside the province.

  And what about Agent Kong, the one claiming to be police?

  I checked on Kong and Chang’an’s movements.

  Kong had introduced himself to the Huntress as “Probe.” From his words and the literal meaning, his role in Luo Shan seemed to be detecting supernatural incidents, reporting them to the organization, and then letting the Huntress team handle the fieldwork.

  “Police” was likely just his cover—or more bluntly, a fake identity. Surveillance from the “Fireflies” made it clear he wasn’t doing anything remotely resembling actual police work.

  This morning he’d still been chasing Alice under the pretext of tracking a serial killer. Now he was wandering the city, occasionally slipping into deserted spots to observe and jot notes. Probably carrying out his “Probe” duties.

  A possibility occurred to me: what if the people actively searching for Alice right now weren’t the police at all, but Luo Shan?

  For what reason? Had Alice somehow revealed herself as a time-traveler from the apocalypse, and Luo Shan was hunting for crossers?

  I pushed the question aside for now and shifted focus to Chang’an.

  He was currently at the hospital visiting his mother with his younger sister. (I’ll skip the details about his family for now.) I noticed several suspicious-looking men nearby. They weren’t tailing Chang’an directly—they were watching the area around him. Their movements were discreet, but they clearly hadn’t accounted for surveillance from “Fireflies,” so they left a few tells.

  They were almost certainly Luo Shan people. As for the Huntress woman’s location, I couldn’t find her at all. According to what she’d told Kong on the phone, she should already be on site.

  On second thought, that actually made perfect sense. Kong had said she’d once repelled a Fallen Demon Hunter face-to-face—perhaps the enemy remembered her appearance. Staying hidden to avoid tipping them off would be the smart move.

  If the Fallen Demon Hunter (serial killer) really was Alice, then all their caution was pointless. Right now she could barely move normally, let alone fight.

  While observing and thinking, I arrived at the door of the fifteenth-floor apartment.

  Since Chang’an already had protection, my job was to investigate the anomaly. Chang’an had come into contact with this unexplained phenomenon—who knew if it behaved like some curse from ghost stories, clinging to its victim in inscrutable ways until it dragged them into the abyss?

  For my friend’s sake, I had to uncover everything about it.

  No—let’s be honest with myself. I was doing this for my own desires… because I myself wanted to explore it.

  I was the kind of villain who put personal curiosity ahead of friendship.

  I gripped the doorknob. The door was locked, and I didn’t have a key. But I wasn’t worried about getting in. Under the effect of my ability, the lock cylinder melted in seconds. I pulled the door open and stepped inside as casually as if it were my own home.

  The apartment was dark—no lights on, and it was night. I beckoned, and several “Fireflies” that had arrived earlier emerged from the corners, casting warm orange-red light like flickering candles, filling the living room with an eerie, almost mystical glow.

  I closed the door behind me and walked over to the black plush carpet. Kneeling, I lifted it aside.

  The black ritual array was still there, exactly as before.

  And the wooden cover that had vanished earlier… had somehow reappeared on the floor.