The World Below Surface - Chapter 49: With little stars in her eyes...
In the dead of night, a frigid wind blew fiercely.
Nie Yun Zhen and Shi Yan ran in the inky darkness, their path shrouded in mystery. The former deeply regretted his decision, “Had I known…”
He should not have allowed those people to come! If only it were just the two of them, they could have played for as long as they wanted.
Shi Yan couldn’t help but also nurse a grudge. However, when she thought about it, she had tampered with the deck and tricked her into being the ghost. She didn’t seem to have the right to accuse Nie Yun Zhen.
Instead, their meticulously crafted plan had trapped them in a deadly game. Truly, they had brought it upon themselves.
“Stop talking and keep running,” urged Shi Yan, aware that further deliberations were futile.
Having run for an extended period, they breathed in the damp, cold air of the night and grew increasingly alert.
“Hold on, I have a sudden question,” Nie Yun Zhen said. With no ghosts in pursuit, his scrambled brain struggled to regain clarity, and he posed a question that Shi Yan had hesitated to ask.
“What if… Chu Xiu’s message was fake? What then?”
Shi Yan was struck speechless by a single sentence. Her eyes traced the features of the man standing before her, illuminated by the moonlight. Though he didn’t appear dishonest, she couldn’t shake off her suspicions.
‘Yes, who can prove that ‘Chu Xiu’ was real. Or, who can prove that the current Nie Yun Zhen was real?’
Nie Yun Zhen looked puzzled at her expression, prompting Shi Yan to continue, “You’re right. Given the circumstances, it’s impossible to ascertain who is human and who is a ghost. Our best option is to separate.”
“What do you mean?” Nie Yun Zhen asked.
“In this situation, we cannot rely on each other,” Shi Yan explained. “We can only trust that we are not ghosts. However, even if we are not ghosts now, they could replace us later without our knowledge. So, we must split up. Set our phones to silent mode and communicate only through messages, but never disclose our locations or inquire about the other’s whereabouts.”
Nie Yun Zhen quickly grasped the situation, and though hesitant, he nodded in agreement. “It’s best to split up. We can be more cautious and trust only ourselves.”
Shi Yan nodded in agreement. “There’s a fork in the road up ahead. We’ll split up there. I’ll take a left; you can choose any other path.”
“Very well,” Nie Yun Zhen replied, and they began to jog towards the fork in the road. Shi Yan lagged behind, gasping for breath, before finally catching up with him and disappearing into the inky darkness.
Not long after, they received a message from Chu Xiu.
[Are you two together? It’s safer to split up and avoid discussing your whereabouts. Ensure your phones are on silent,] the message read.
Chu Xiu sent another message, [Don’t communicate with each other anymore. Return home separately in the morning.]
The tone of his messages made it clear that he had relinquished any hope of rendezvous after the game.
Chu Xiu pocketed his phone and looked around apprehensively. Once he identified the correct direction, he started walking.
“What do we do? That sound earlier must have been Zhang Zhi Jie,” Ling Wei Wei stammered, clutching Sun Hao’s sleeve tightly.
Yun Qian was designated as a ghost, so she teamed up with Zhang Dan. Since neither of them was particularly courageous, they recruited two boys to join them: Sun Hao, who was in Yun Qian’s class, and Huang Yuan Wang, who didn’t want to be left alone, but she was unsure from which class he was.
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The two remaining boys were paralyzed with fear, especially Huang Yuan Wang, who had been discussing the game with Zhang Zhi Jie in the car only moments before receiving news of his death. This cruel reality left him on the brink of a mental breakdown.
“Stop talking nonsense. What if we misheard? Perhaps Zhang Zhi Jie simply enjoys shouting loudly,” Huang Yuan Wang muttered, attempting to convince the others with his flimsy excuse, which he did not believe.
“What should we do now? Should we hide?” Initially, they had planned to conceal themselves for a few rounds and wait until someone was discovered before returning to avoid losing face or wasting too much time. However, who would have the courage to be caught after encountering a genuine ghost?
That was a real ghost…
The thought of being on Yin—Ming Road with a ghost, riding the same bus, and playing hide-and-seek were terrifying.
“We must hide, for sure. The issue now is where to hide.” Zhang Dan, who usually didn’t stand out, was the first to calm down. She attempted to placate everyone and said, “There are only dead trees scattered around, no small inclines, caves, or anything. Aside from the pitch-black night, there is no viable hiding spot for us to play hide-and-seek. The darkness is our greatest obstacle now. We can hardly see a thing, and I don’t know if Yun Qian is facing the same challenge,” Zhang Dan voiced her concerns, shuddering at the mention of the name.
Her calm demeanour gradually spread to the others, making her the de facto leader. Sun Hao, however, was still restless. “What do we do now?” he asked, scratching his head in frustration.
Zhang Dan’s answer was simple. “We keep moving. Standing still is not an option. I’ve played enough escape games to know that.” She turned her gaze towards Ling Wei Wei, whose face had turned pale with fear, and she continued with a hint of ruthlessness, “Moreover, we should spread out and run. That way, we can increase our chances of survival.”
Ling Wei Wei was doubtful. “But won’t it make us more vulnerable?”
Zhang Dan shook her head. “Whether we stay together or split up, the chance of getting caught remains the same. But if we spread out, it’ll be harder for the ghost to catch all of us at once.”
Before Huang Yuan Wang could question her logic, Sun Hao interjected, “She’s right. We have a better chance if we separate. We can’t fight it, but we can try to outrun it.”
Ling Wei Wei was still hesitant, but Zhang Dan understood her fear. “We’re all scared,” she reassured her. “But we have to try. We never expected this to happen.”
Although Ling Wei Wei initially hesitated to join, the lure of the money proved too strong to resist. She envisioned using the funds to buy her younger sister some delectable treats and a charming dress. The surplus of the money would be saved for the end of the semester. Yet now she clutched herself tightly and only wished to come back alive. Furthermore, she vowed never to return to the treacherous Yin—Ming Road.
During the discussion, the group of four debated and expressed opposing views. Ultimately, Sun Hao and Zhang Dan opted to venture out alone, while Huang Yuan Wang and Ling Wei Wei proceeded together.
“I’m scared too,” Huang Yuan Wang admitted, “But I’ll make sure you run first when the time comes.”
Though Ling Wei Wei’s beauty was striking, and ordinarily, Huang Yuan Wang might have had some fanciful thoughts, fear stifled any romantic notions.
Ling Wei Wei’s face brightened, and she nodded in appreciation, “Thank you. Let’s continue and attempt to leave this place. I won’t hold you back.”
Hand in hand, they sprinted forward. Approximately five hundred meters behind them, a schoolgirl in uniform strolled leisurely. Though her eyes lacked whites, her appearance otherwise resembled an ordinary girl’s.
Meanwhile, at the city police station, Officer Zhao had been waiting impatiently for the reporters to depart. Finally, after they had all gone, she sighed and hastened to her car in the parking lot. Much to her chagrin, a vehicle blocked her exit, making her unable to manoeuvre out of the tight spot. She muttered curses in frustration.
“Who the hell is this? They’re crazy!” she seethed.
Suddenly, the car’s headlights flickered to life, and it reversed a few inches. Was someone inside the vehicle?
As she rounded the back of the car, she noticed that the side windows were made of one-way glass, with only the front ones allowing visibility. The driver, a fair and gentle-looking man, sat behind the wheel.
Officer Zhao remained composed, her hand poised to reach for her stun gun. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
The young man in the car raised his hands in a gesture of peace and exited the vehicle, assuring her that he meant no harm. “Officer Zhao, right? My name is Lu, and I’m a journalist.” He displayed his press card, and there was no mistaking the authenticity of it.
Officer Zhao’s brow furrowed, wary of this reporter’s intentions. She forced a smile to avoid the possibility of damaging the police’s reputation. “Hello, Mr Lu,” she said. “What can I assist you with? If it’s information about the previous hit-and-run case on Yin—Ming Road, you can refer to the case report.”
The journalist shook his head, redirecting the conversation to a different topic. “I have faith in the police’s credibility, so I inquired about another case.” His speech grew slower and more deliberate as he spoke, his eyes deepening subtly. “Don’t worry, I won’t overstay my welcome,” he added enigmatically.
Their eyes met, and Officer Zhao felt her earlier unease dissipate. She realized that her initial manner may have been a bit brusque, given that they were public servants obligated to answer the public’s inquiries.
“Speak.”
“Officer Zhao, are you familiar with the All-Knowing God?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“I am aware of it,” she responded, recalling the repeated warnings of her superiors to quash religious sects and keep them out of schools.
“Is the recent death of a student at the Fourth Middle School connected to the All-Knowing God cult?” Lu Yan questioned, hoping for a breakthrough.
Officer Zhao’s brow creased as if she was struggling to recollect something. After a moment, she shook her head. “No,” she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Lu Yan was taken aback. How could that be possible? Every family of the deceased student believed in the All-Knowing God.
“Can you confirm if the high-level authorities of the school have any affiliation with the All-Knowing God cult?” Lu Yan pressed on, hoping for any lead.
Officer Zhao’s frown deepened, and she responded listlessly, “I am not certain. I am new to this team, and the previous team leader knew more about it.”
“Who was the previous team leader?” Lu Yan asked.
“It was An Ru (安儒),” Officer Zhao replied.
“Where did he go?” Lu Yan inquired.
“He went to investigate the Yin—Ming Road. Despite the warnings, he went anyway and never returned,” she answered.
Lu Yan felt a jolt in his gut, sensing a critical breakthrough. “Do you have a photograph of An Ru?” he asked.
Officer Zhao shook her head, stating that she had just transferred from another city and wasn’t familiar with the situation.
Despite that, Lu Yan continued his investigation, believing that An Ru’s pursuit of the Yin—Ming Road and the All-Knowing God cult might lead to a breakthrough.
“Thank you, Officer Zhao. You can go home now,” Lu Yan said politely, making way for her car.
Officer Zhao rubbed her eyes groggily and found herself standing in front of the car, lost in thought. She couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Is the pressure too much lately? She needed to relax when she went home on the weekend.
The sound of another car starting came from the direction of the parking lot entrance, and Officer Zhao looked over subconsciously. A small private car was preparing to leave.
Abruptly, Officer Zhao felt something was amiss and spun around, her sharp eyes scouring the nearly empty parking lot. As an experienced old police officer, she knew that if someone were lurking here, they would never escape her scrutiny. However, there was no one in sight, yet she felt an eerie sensation of being covertly watched.
The feeling of being stalked by an unseen gaze made her profoundly uneasy as if she were prey in the sight of a ravenous predator. “Who’s there?” she called out, but her words echoed back to her from the silent lot.
Abruptly, the lights in the farthest part of the parking lot went out, one after another, shrouding the area in pitch-black darkness. Officer Zhao’s unease deepened into an inexplicable fear that seemed to have seeped into her very bones. She quickly opened the car door and sat inside, intending to start the car and leave. Yet, as she reached for the ignition, she froze.
Slowly, she lowered her head.
The safety belt she had fastened was icy and slippery, but it was not the safety belt she felt. A group of beetles clinging to her belt and crawling over her body. As she attempted to escape, the safety belt tightened around her, and suddenly, a pair of white, delicate arms reached out from the backseat and tightly constricted her neck.
“No… stop!” she gasped, but the hand squeezed tighter, silencing her voice. She struggled to free herself, slicing the belt with a knife, but it would not break. She attempted to pry off the frigid grip of the hand, but it held her firmly in place, and she could do nothing but watch helplessly as she was slowly strangled.
Before she drew her final breath, she realized the whole lot was teeming with them. Like a wave of death, the black tide surged forward, chasing the car as it fled from the parking lot.
Lu Yan tightened his grip on the steering wheel and slammed the accelerator to the floor.
Despite being in the city, it was odd for the streets to be completely empty and devoid of human presence, especially at night. Nevertheless, Lu Yan had no time to ponder over the strange occurrence. He broke every traffic rule in the book, careening through the empty roads and pushing the vehicle beyond its limits.
As he drove, the darkness kept on swallowing the street behind him. With every second that passed, the black swarm surged forward, consuming everything in its path.
He gritted his teeth and fought to maintain his focus and discern the right path forward. The tires screeched and echoed through the silence of the night, and he knew he was reaching the vehicle’s maximum speed limit.
But the swarm was faster, closing in on him like a tidal wave. It was baffling where the swarm had emerged from or why it had appeared in such numbers. Lu Yan had already driven halfway across the city, yet the swarm chased him relentlessly.
In desperation, he turned the steering wheel and headed towards Yin—Ming Road.
Meanwhile, Tian Le was running as if his life depended on it, holding Fang Nan’s mobile phone. Tears and sweat streamed down his face, turning to ice as the cold wind hit him.
“Zhang Zhi Jie is dead; Fang Nan is also dead,” he whispered, his voice trembling with grief.
Just moments ago, he and Fang Nan had been walking together when a pair of white hands snatched Fang Nan away. Yun Qian’s voice had rung out cold and hoarse in the darkness.
“I found you~.”
Little did he know that another figure emerged from behind the same tree a while after he left. The figure wore a school uniform, had a pale, blue-tinged face, and had a deep gash on its neck.
Yun Qian exchanged a strange smile with the figure before both went their separate ways to search for the others.
Good friends should always play together.
Tian Le sprinted away as fast as he could, hearing the distant sound of a car driving. He kept running forward without a moment’s pause, not caring where he was going or what he might stumble upon. Suddenly, he tripped, and his phone was flung out, landing near a pair of shoes.
As he got up, he caught sight of a figure illuminated by a flickering light. Tian Le realized that he had never seen this person before, and the thought of encountering a stranger on Yin—Ming Road filled him with terror. He quickly darted away in a different direction, abandoning his phone without a second thought.
The stranger bent down and picked up the phone, illuminating his face. A man hiding behind a tree was stunned to see Lu Yan. What was he doing here?
Upon glancing at the phone, Lu Yan shone his flashlight in the man’s direction. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he said, “Chu Xiu, you again.”
“Wait, don’t come any closer,” Chu Xiu said warily as Lu Yan walked towards him. “I can’t be sure if you’re…”
Lu Yan perused the phone and looked at the group chat page. When he saw the name displayed on the chat, he turned off the phone and hurled it away. “Let’s not talk about that,” he said sharply. “Tell me, did you bring a group of students here to play hide and seek?”
Chu Xiu replied, “How did you know?” He hesitated before quickly adding, “I blacked out during the planning. This was a decision made by Nie Yun Zhen and Shi Yan, but I’m also responsible…”
Lu Yan interrupted him, his eyes blazing in the darkness. His anger was palpable as he gritted his teeth and said, “Do you have a death wish?” Each word was laden with fury and a hint of reluctance.
He never imagined that these people would willingly walk into a deadly trap. What made him feel even more powerless was that he had fallen into such a dire situation.
Chu Xiu felt uneasy under Lu Yan’s intense gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Chu Xiu’s mind worked fast, and his voice was laced with concern. “Don’t tell me all these students are…” His voice trailed off, but the look in Lu Yan’s eyes conveyed his correct guess.
All… are ghosts? Chu Xiu’s mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the gravity of what Lu Yan had just revealed. But he instinctively believed him; there was no reason to doubt the authenticity of his words.
Lu Yan took a few deep breaths, visibly weakened by the information he had just imparted. “Forget it,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Even if you don’t take the initiative, these things will find a way to come to you.”
In this world, there weren’t many living people left. As long as the entity behind the mission willed it, they could turn anyone into a ghost.
“How did you get here?” Chu Xiu asked, eager to learn more.
Lu Yan’s back stiffened slightly. He knew that playing hide-and-seek in this place without encountering ghosts was impossible. He had brought those things along, hoping to make them fight each other. But the ghosts had the upper hand, and none of those corpse insects had flown in.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I have my own business,” Lu Yan said, changing the subject. “Are those two still alive? If they are, you need to notify them.”
Without a second thought, Chu Xiu messaged the other two, and the shock of his message was beyond measure.
Everyone… was a ghost? They weren’t playing hide and seek with just one ghost, but with eleven ghosts?
Nie Yun Zhen wished he could turn back time and undo his suggestion, while Shi Yan was gripped by an all-consuming regret.
How could this have happened?
In the depths of the forest, inside an abandoned factory, a putrid stench filled the air. The smell of decaying bodies was so strong that even the bravest among them couldn’t ignore it. If an experienced detective were here, they would easily recognize the scent of death that hung heavily in the air.
Despite the decaying corpses lying around, there were surprisingly few flies. Instead, fireflies emerged one by one from within the factory, their luminescent green glow lighting up the darkness. What should have been a romantic scene now looked terrifying on the desolate Yin—Ming Road. One could easily mistake the fireflies for ghost lights.
Yun Qian, Zhang Zhi Jie, Fang Nan, and Xie Yu stood stoically before the factory. Behind them, twelve white bones were arranged in perfect order. They were in the process of placing something on the bones, and as they looked at each other, their sinister smiles sent shivers down the spine. They sang a haunting melody before departing, searching for their other good friends.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…”
The voices of the young boys and girls were soft as they drifted through the night sky. Unfortunately, tonight, there were no stars or moon to be seen, just fireflies flitting in the sky, scarcely resembling “little stars.”
As they walked away, a girl rushed out from behind the factory, pinching her nose. The girl was Wen Qing. She had taken a taxi to get there, but it was already dark by the time she arrived. She had no idea where the group had arranged to meet, so she searched the nearby intersection for them. She didn’t have a phone, so she had no way of contacting them and could only search on her own.
Finally, she saw the headlights of a car. As Yun Qian exited the vehicle, Wen Qing ran over, but she witnessed Yun Qian open her mouth and swallow Zhang Zhi Jie whole. Even now, the scene remained etched in her memory, sending shivers down her spine.
Yun Qian… she’s not human anymore.
The spectacle played out before her once more. Yun Qian parted her lips again and commenced spewing forth bone after bone. The heap of bones on the ground gradually began to take shape, coalescing into a human figure. Before long, Zhang Zhi Jie, who had previously been swallowed, reappeared.
Wen Qing, overwhelmed by shock and anguish, seemed to have forgotten her fear. Her only concern now was to locate her fellow classmates and make a swift exit from the area.
With cautious steps, Wen Qing approached a row of bleached bones, bowing her head to scrutinize them closely. She perceived that some object had been placed atop them, and upon closer inspection, she discovered that they were playing cards.
Playing cards? What on earth could this signify?
Bewildered and mystified, Wen Qing ruminated over the cards for an extended period before reaching out to collect the four playing cards and tucking them away in her pocket.
Meanwhile, the singing persisted in the distance, piercing through the air and reverberating throughout the forest with its crystal-clear and dulcet melody.
“Light hanging in the sky, like many little eyes…”
Gradually, fireflies began to creep out from within the bones, wriggling their way into the skull. Two murky eye sockets illuminated with a brilliant emerald glow.
“Eyes full of little stars…”
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