Effective cooperation
It must be said that Xie Wuchang truly deserves the title of conspiracy theorist enthusiast.
“Ever since I came across this information, I’ve suspected that there might be some kind of tacitly accepted interference behind it. I’ve also suspected that there might be some kind of illicit drug in this city. At first, my suspicions were directed at the people who had first contact with this case, but now my suspicions have shifted to you.” She rattled off four suspicions in one breath.
"Which part has actual proof?" Little F smiled and waited for the answer she already knew.
"...No." Xie Wuchang's face fell. "Hey, although you are suspicious, you are indeed from out of town. Considering the time you've been in contact, it's impossible for you to have committed a crime."
"So you came to us just to make us suspicious?" Cheng Xiangwu asked, puzzled.
"Isn't there no other way?" Xie Wuchang pursed his lips.
"What about the part that came into contact with the first hand?" Cheng Xiang asked five times.
“It’s not convenient for me to move around much. Rather, with those people stubbornly refusing to budge, unless there’s solid evidence, law enforcement officers can’t even suspend them or bring them in for questioning.” Xie Wuchang’s expression was like he’d swallowed a bullet while eating cake, unsure whether to swallow it or spit it out. “Okay, you should all realize by now that I am indeed a police officer.”
She was the one who was the last to realize her own status in this situation.
"Oh, okay," Cheng Xiangwu replied reluctantly.
“Since you said that someone is unwilling to let the cat out of the bag, then there must already be someone who suspects knows part of the truth. I wonder if you could take me to meet this person? If it happens, perhaps we can have the opportunity to share some thoughts,” Little Fran encouraged.
"You can't really talk about it, let alone meet in person." Xie Wuchang said, picking up the remote control from the coffee table and turning on the TV. He changed channels several times, switching from the weather forecast to the morning news replay.
In the video, behind a wall of microphones, a slender woman, around 40 years old, dressed elegantly with a stern face behind her glasses, says, “Regarding the previously mentioned issue of nighttime traffic safety, I have received letters from citizens expressing concerns about their personal and financial safety when traveling at night, just as we mentioned before—”
A white sign with black lettering stood in front of her: Mayor of Senhu City, Gu Wanqiu.
“I’ve received information that the fire department is handling the situation at Senhu No. 2 Middle School directly, on the orders of the mayor. Even if she only wanted to downplay the incident a month ago to reduce public reaction, she hasn’t taken any further action in all this time.” Xie Wuchang propped her head up, turning her head to see the television. “The key is her attitude. To us, her attitude is practically insane, and that’s the biggest reason we’re here to investigate this case.”
"What attitude?" Cheng Xiang asked five times.
"Refuse." Xie Wuchang's expression was puzzled, as if he had seen an asymmetrical vertebrate, puzzled and disgusted. "Refuse to disclose information, refuse to tell us the processing procedures, refuse our interference, but how can she refuse these things?"
Mori-ko City doesn't have city walls, so outsiders can come whenever they want.
“That’s true in that respect,” Little F said with a smile. “I won’t remind everyone that accepting rejection is sometimes good for your mental and physical health, but for you, her attitude wasn’t the worst, was it?”
“…I suspect there’s something going on, but she won’t say, so I have to investigate myself.” Xie Wuchang said, turning around. “In the team, I’m responsible for on-site investigations and questioning. I’ve seen plenty of people like her, but she’s the most ruthless one. After being kicked out yesterday, she wouldn’t even let me into the city hall building.”
As she spoke, she switched the channel to gossip news again. Recently, many shops in Senhu City have been having promotions, offering discounts, gifts, and rebates to boost consumption and attract customers to new products. The program said that the bright red and green commotion on the streets was to celebrate Bai Langtao's upcoming 60th birthday.
“Bai Langtao is arguably the biggest investor in this city. Having lived here for many years, she has the greatest control over the area, far exceeding that of a mayor who has only been in office for a few years. The recent turmoil has required money from every department. For example, the expenses for Gao Ersen's single-occupancy hospital stay were all covered by the city fund. Gu Wanqiu doesn't have that money; she used to be a lawyer, and her family isn't exactly wealthy.” Xie Wuchang stroked his chin as he spoke. “If I tell you this, you'll think I'm paranoid, but every time things escalated to the point of near misses, the Bai family would generate some news to attract attention, making it hard not to suspect something.”
"It's really hard," Cheng Xiangwu commented.
"Do you think my logic is far-fetched, or do you think these two people have powerful backgrounds?" Xie Wuchang asked with a bitter expression, as if she were emptying her wallet as she uttered those words.
“Indeed.” Cheng Xiangwu nodded.
"Hey, I know that too." Xie Wuchang salvaged some of his pride. "These two are the main ones. I plan to start the investigation from the branches and find out the truth from the details."
"Where did you go to the police station yesterday?" Cheng Xiangwu asked.
"...Hey, it seems she's been transferred." Xie Wuchang's face fell again. Cheng Xiangwu had never seen a policeman with so many changing expressions.
The tea had gone a little cold. Xiao Fu was scribbling in his notebook without looking up. Xie Wuchang sighed and turned off the TV. Cheng Xiangwu looked at the sunglasses-wearing detective and inexplicably thought of some colleagues who always seemed to be living a very tiring life.
"Leaving aside the repetitive plots for now, there has indeed been a new case unfolding here." Xiao Fu looked up before the tea went cold. "So, Miss Xie Wuchang, would you like to cooperate with us, your suspect?"
Upon hearing this, Cheng Xiangwu was somewhat surprised. She remembered that this person had considered adding a copyright statement to the clues he had investigated a few years ago.
"…Clues are like bad blood; if you hold onto them and they don't circulate, they'll just rot away along with the good flesh around them," Little Fran replied.
"I know." Xie Wuchang nodded, having automatically accepted the reminder. "In fact, this was my goal all along, even if it was a bit of a detour."
"Fine," Xiao Fu said somewhat discontentedly. "In short, your goal is to investigate the case, or rather, your mission is to find out why those people died and why the people around them are so indifferent. That's your personal investigation objective, isn't it?"
“That’s one way to put it, but police work can’t be so rigid,” Xie Wuchang said, pursing his lips.
"You can try it yourself." Little F remained unmoved.
"Alright." Xie Wuchang sighed. "And what about you? What are you here for?"
“My purpose is to connect with my values, so all I can show you before we hold hands is the surface. Like you, I’m here for this case, so while we can work together, there are a few things I can’t compromise on,” said Little Franz.
"You're a foreigner?" Xie Wuchang was still puzzled, but nodded. "Okay, what about you?" She looked at Cheng Xiangwu.
"I came back to visit, and since something happened in my hometown, I thought I'd take care of it while I was at it," Cheng Xiangwu said.
"It's far too vague!" Xie Wuchang criticized.
"Mm," Cheng Xiangwu responded.
"Hmph." Little Fu laughed. "Exchange clues within a limited scope, reduce unnecessary errors, cooperate to overcome difficulties at critical moments, but also control the strength and scope of your reach. Humans are such insignificant things that move forward, with insignificant efforts bringing insignificant results, and from above, they are only a tiny segment."
"What are you talking about?" Xie Wuchang asked disapprovingly. "Are you emphasizing the importance of cooperation or saying that what we're doing is a waste of time?"
“She’s entertaining herself,” Cheng Xiangwu said.
“…Alright.” Xie Wuchang gave up on pursuing the matter. “Anyway, let’s cooperate, you two who are incredibly suspicious.”
Cooperation, especially cooperation between people who are not very familiar with each other, is basically about each getting what they need and making the best use of resources before everything falls apart. This unspoken rule is also recorded in the process of university group assignments.
Cheng Xiangwu, who had never been to university, had heard about this from several of her colleagues, but lacked the opportunity to put it into practice. However, as they say, opportunity always comes to those who are unprepared, and now it has come.
"Let's get this straight, you don't plan to investigate those dead people, right?" Cheng Xiangwu asked.
“Indeed, after all the cremations are over, deliberately making things more difficult for the police would get us criticized by the whole team.” Xie Wuchang nodded, then became suspicious again, “What do you mean by asking that?”
“Just to be clear,” said Little Franz. “Now that you know this is going to be unusually interesting, please don’t act like a seagull eating fries for the first time when you’re about to encounter some unusual things.”
“I’ve said I wouldn’t interfere too much, and I’m prepared.” Xie Wuchang nodded; she didn’t look like a seagull.
Cheng Xiangwu stood up and unlocked the study door. Xie Wuchang looked at her in confusion, only to find that the door had been opened from the inside by itself, and a head, quite young, peeked out from the crack.
"...You, you all!" Xie Wuchang exclaimed in shock, his sunglasses sliding down his face. "You're imprisoning high school students?!"
"What?!" Golson exclaimed in shock. "I did it voluntarily, voluntarily!"
"Mind control...?" Xie Wuchang gritted his teeth. "Is this why you didn't reveal your identity? You're actually a criminal?"
At least now Cheng Xiangwu knows that this person has never seen Golson, or that she is the only survivor.
He's no longer considered a survivor.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to see,” Little F smiled contentedly.
There are currently four people in the living room, with a two-to-one ratio of multi-seater sofas to single sofas. Gorsen refused to sit with the policeman and squeezed in with her two sisters. Cheng Xiangwu volunteered to sit on a single sofa, but Gorsen grabbed her hand.
"Sister, shall we just sit here peacefully together like this?" Galson requested.
"That works too." Cheng Xiangwu had no objections.
“I have a problem with this!” Little F was dissatisfied with the crowded situation. “A spirit of rebellion and an independent mode of action should be complementary products. Miss Golson, you can’t just pick and choose what you like.”
"Then why don't you just sit on the single sofa?" Cheng Xiangwu asked, puzzled.
"Sis, can't we just stay here happily like this?" Golson tried to persuade her, but Little F didn't say anything.
"Why are you so afraid of me?" Xie Wuchang looked somewhat frustrated. She took off her sunglasses and placed them on the table, clearly believing that was the reason.
“…Why do you have to ask me about something like this?” Golson said softly, without looking at the other person’s face.
Xie Wuchang's expression clearly asked, "What else?"
“In short, you’ve heard what we had in the previous conversation,” Little Franz said. “I can give you some time to express your thoughts and attitudes.”
"It's alright, don't worry about what I think. Are you telling the truth?" Gorson looked at Xie Wuchang, "After I left that ward, did this world automatically condemn me to the underworld?"
Having said that, Xie Wuchang realized what the current situation was like.
"At least that's what everyone I've asked thinks." Xie Wuchang nodded, her eyes filled with a complex, almost palpable, emotion. "I still don't know what method of death you were sentenced to, but no matter what it was, there's no record of it. How did you escape?"
"All you ever do is ask—" Golson cursed reflexively, then quickly calmed down. "Anyway, you've seen it, I'm not dead, I'm sitting right here."
As she spoke, she seemed to shrink into the gap between her two older sisters, as if to show off her position.
"Are you afraid of the police?" Xie Wuchang realized something. "What did the police here do to you?"
"You—" Gorson was about to curse when Little Franz pinched his face, quickly silencing him.
“This high school student had zero screen time last month and was asked ‘Are you okay?’ every hour by law enforcement officers who would walk in and ask him, ‘Are you okay?’ as a result, and he developed an allergy to giving statements. Please understand,” said Xiao Fu.
"I'm sorry." Xie Wuchang pursed her lips and took a few sips of the now-cold tea.
With a three-to-one ratio in the interviews, the three-person team should theoretically have an overwhelming advantage.
“The details still need to be investigated, but for now, I personally recommend analyzing and dealing with the memory processor and the capturer separately. The content of the dream itself is not something we should pay attention to. The saying ‘what you think about at night, you dream about’ is just a natural phenomenon,” said Xiao Fu.
“I’ve seen survivors’ descriptions of their dreams in some of the files, and based on those records, I find it hard to believe they could be natural phenomena.” Xie Wuchang’s brows seemed to be asking for an explanation.
"You don't have to believe me, that's fine, but this is a fact I've personally verified," Little Fu said, shrugging.
"Sister Fufu, you were dreaming too? When?" Golson felt a bittersweet mix of emotions, like a down-on-his-luck person suddenly finding a relative.
“Just last night, specifically after you changed your sleeping location, I didn’t enter that evil place called Dreamland. I just took some evidence from you,” Little Franz said.
She collected the evidence herself, of course.
"Are you sure you're saying what you mean?" Xie Wuchang subtly expressed his concern about the translation.
"Just believe what she says. Thinking too much won't do you any good," Cheng Xiangwu advised.
"Huh?" Xie Wuchang, of course, couldn't believe it; what a pathetic case of paranoia.
"Please feel free," Little Franz said dismissively. "However, I do have some empirical evidence regarding target identification that I can use as a calming agent."
"Wait a minute." Xie Wuchang gestured for a pause. "What are these people-catchers you're talking about?"
"Why do you have to ask this?" Golson asked, puzzled.
Xie Wuchang's expression turned distressed again, this time like an ordinary customer being pulled into a supermarket to ask all sorts of questions.
The group discussed the case from multiple perspectives, and Xie Wuchang's ignorance, typical of a latecomer from out of town, was quickly exposed during the exchange.
The camera that originally belonged to Gorson is now missing with a clear purpose, at least not at the local police station, and the contents of that last photo are nowhere to be found. The number of firefighters responsible for handling the scene was small, and they were all subsequently silenced and sent to another city for psychological treatment, so it is still difficult to describe exactly what the crime scene looked like.
Regarding the progress of the investigation, these outsiders know less than Xiao Fu, a foreigner with sharp ears.
“…I see.” She closed her eyes and then opened them again. “In the reports that I, or rather our Captain Han, could obtain, the first-year students of Senhu No. 2 Middle School died collectively from unknown causes. The Municipal Health Bureau said it was a high-risk infectious disease, so they chose to dispose of the bodies as soon as possible and skipped the autopsy. We all suspect that something is being hidden, but there are too many inferences.”
According to Xie Wuchang's own description, Han Lingfeng, the captain of the criminal investigation team, is a reliable person.
"Can I provide this information to the investigation team?" Xie Wuchang asked, "What are the clues you provided as informants?"
“If you can explain why the informant knows more than the report, please feel free to do so,” Little Franz said.
“…I understand.” Xie Wuchang glanced at Gorson. “I will not reveal your identities.”
“However, there are still many things we don’t know.” Little Fu said thoughtfully. “In short, regarding the decapitation case I handled half a month ago, none of the immediate family members denied any connection with the deceased. Some were mourning at the grave, some were taking the inheritance, and some were taking photos. It was quite a scene.”
It's rare for someone to die so completely. Although he had expressed his opinion about the manner of his death beforehand, he clearly has nothing to say now.
"So you think part of the reason for this case is... what's causing all this trouble?" Xie Wuchang asked, enunciating each word carefully, as if he would let the answer slip away if he didn't spell it out.
"Does this need confirmation?" Little Fer asked back. "You need to prepare three solutions for just one possible outcome. You're such a good kid who knows how to please the teacher."
In modern usage, there is also the adjective "artificial intelligence dialogue terminal".
“I’m a police officer, I need to give you a straight answer.” Xie Wuchang shook his head. “If these two cases have no obvious connection, what is your motive for coming all this way to investigate this matter? Who gave you the information?”
"Obviously, these are just things you want to know yourself." Little F didn't intend to answer any questions about personal information.
"I need to answer to know if it's useful. Can't you answer as best you can? Filter out what you don't want to say and give me something useful?" Xie Wuchang persisted, convinced that there was some gold she hadn't filtered out.
"I'll answer for you, but it won't help," Little Fu said with a hint of disdain, watching the increasingly boring walk.
"What are you answering for me?" Xie Wuchang asked, puzzled and wary, his question coming late.
“Of course, it’s all those pretend Q&A sessions you prepared.” Little Franz sped up his speech. “My answers don’t match any of the dropdown menus you prepared for the questions, and from a macro perspective, they don’t even belong to the same category.”
Her tone could be described as indifferent, and no one wanted to hear her answer.
The living room fell silent for a moment. Xie Wuchang opened her mouth, then closed it again, her gaze returning to the shallow tea, where she reflected her own reflection, which remained relatively calm. She might have realized something, but Xiao Fu had already gotten up to brew more tea.
"Her." Xie Wuchang looked at Cheng Xiangwu, who had nothing to say, and hesitated before speaking, "Is she really that good at psychology?"
Whether these words were an attempt to find an excuse for her or Xiao Fu, or a test, Cheng Xiangwu didn't care. She didn't care much about the content or purpose of this long series of questions and answers; she was simply sitting there waiting for the other two to finish their conversation and prepare to leave for their next destination.
“Yes, that’s right.” Cheng Xiangwu agreed with her using this reason. She knew that not everyone likes to open up, after all, not everyone’s inner self is always tidied up and ready to go on a long journey.
"Why care so much? You haven't done anything wrong." Gorson moved a little closer to Cheng Xiangwu and tried to touch its fur collar. Although it was much better than before, his expression was still full of hostility.
"...Excuse me, could I use the restroom?" Xie Wuchang sighed and stood up.
The half of the guest bathroom in the living room originally belonged to Gorson, who was very unhappy about it. So Cheng Xiangwu let the policeman, who might be installing surveillance cameras or listening devices, into his master bedroom bathroom.
"You're really generous," Little F said, returning with freshly brewed tea, his voice strange.
“At least she asked,” Cheng Xiangwu said.
“…I don’t need to do that kind of formalistic work,” said Xiao Fu, as she sat down on a single sofa.
"Yes, your workmanship is very practical." Cheng Xiang nodded. "Didn't you sleep last night?"
"Ah." Golson was taken aback. "Is it because of my dream?"
She didn't quite understand how Xiao Fu could collect evidence remotely, but she knew that the person collecting the evidence had to remain conscious throughout the process to ensure a clear record.
"Sleep is just a formality for me; a more practical version awaits me in the near future." Xiao Fu poured tea, the sound of water splashing and the aroma of tea filling the living room, easing the tense atmosphere.
Cheng Xiangwu took the teacup. The freshly brewed tea had a slightly astringent taste, but its aroma could dye the ends of hair for several hours.
“Oh…” Golson muttered to himself, “Sorry.”
“At least you’ve learned something. My advice is that the reason you’re still wandering in that space is because you’ve never truly woken up since that day,” Little Franz said. “Simply put, you’re sleepwalking.”
Upon hearing this, Gorson first looked at the sunglasses Xie Wuchang had left on the coffee table, but did not speak.
“No problem, she’ll know what she should understand. Law enforcement officers have a natural advantage in this regard.” Little Franz took a sip of hot tea.
“Okay.” Golson nodded. “Then, how can I tell if I’m awake?”
High school students are clearly much quicker-witted, which pleased Xiao Fu.
“It’s still unclear, but I reasonably suspect that all of this is related to your camera,” Xiao Fu said. “And that camera is related to that mayor. Miss Gu Wanqiu, who looks pale, we’re bound to run into each other sooner or later.”
“Actually,” Golson paused for a moment before speaking, “we don’t have to go to her. This dream isn’t that scary to me.”
“But that camera is a necessary tool for us.” Xiao Fu said, looking up at Cheng Xiangwu. “Besides, at least for the next few days while your sister Xiangxiang is here with important matters to attend to, you don’t have to worry about being homeless.”
Gorsen looked at Cheng Xiangwu, who was taken aback, and then nodded.
"Thank you," Golson said earnestly. "Honestly, I had absolutely no idea what to do. Thank you."
In fact, Cheng Xiangwu didn't know what to do either, but at least no one could tell when she had no expression, so she just nodded again.
"Hmph—" Little Fu chuckled.
The master bedroom door opened, and Xie Wuchang returned to the living room, bringing with her a composed mind and expression.
“I’ll try to arrange a meeting between you and the mayor.” She sat down without picking up her teacup, but looked at Little F. “I’ll have to trouble you then, psychology master.”
“Of course,” Little Franz nodded.
"I really don't know what to do about Bai Langtao, but we'll take it one step at a time," Xie Wuchang said.
“Indeed.” Cheng Xiangwu nodded.
"Do you have a solution?" Xie Wuchang looked over.
"Let's take it one step at a time, that's what you said," Cheng Xiangwu said.
"...In short, I won't interfere too much with you in this regard." Xie Wuchang gave up asking questions and looked at Gorson, speaking under her wary gaze, "I know you definitely want to try to contact your parents. I won't reveal your existence, but to be honest, you can't hide it for long."
Golson remained silent, lost in thought, and didn't speak. There were some things she had to weigh for herself.
“Our team was originally going to bring a psychologist, the kind who specializes in talking to teenagers. Now that she’s here, it probably won’t be of any use. But if you need her, I can introduce her to you so you can have a private chat,” Xie Wuchang said. “I’m sorry to have made you suffer for so long. This is unusual, but both I and my colleagues will act as soon as possible.”
“…I used to hear those kinds of things three times a day.” Gorson grinned. She stopped tucking her legs on the sofa, but also avoided looking Xie Wuchang in the eye. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scam me with those kinds of words, so stop saying them.”
Xie Wuchang looked at Xiao Fu, but she just lowered her head and drank her tea, showing no intention of speaking.
“That’s the kind of thing a policeman has to say.” Xie Wuchang smiled, stood up wearing sunglasses, and said, “Well then, contact me if you need anything, good or bad. Thank you for the tea, Ms. Fu.”
"You're welcome," Xiao Fu replied.
Cheng Xiangwu escorted Xie Wuchang to the apartment entrance, watched her disappear around the corner of the stairwell, and then turned around and closed the door.
This person's coming and going took up the whole morning.
“I still want to see them,” Golson said.
"Okay," Cheng Xiangwu said, "Then we'll go this afternoon."
"Haha, I liked that about you before." Little Fu laughed.
"Oh, that's so sudden." Golson was taken aback, worried but also delighted. "Going this afternoon? Don't we have to wait for them to get off work?"
“After all, you don’t have much to prepare,” Little Franz said, standing up. “Let’s get moving before the world gets even more crowded.”
"Let's go eat first," Cheng Xiangwu said.
When Cheng Xiangwu said it was time to eat, all she was planning to do was find something that met the body's nutritional needs and put it in her stomach. She didn't care about the taste at all. Her coach said that this was simply a talent.
But when she said she was going to eat, and there were more than one person present, it became more in line with the usual way people imagine a meal to be. Find a restaurant, sit down, three people, two meat dishes, one vegetable dish, a soup, plus a plate of cold dishes—that's how respectable families eat, in her mind.
“But I’d like to try your menu, the spiced menu,” said Little F.
The name sounded like a flavor when it wasn't used as a code name, which puzzled Golson, but he didn't say anything more.
If it were any other person, Cheng Xiangwu would have let them have their way, but they also had a high school student with them. She knew her place and didn't intend to torture the high school student's taste with her own.
So they went back to that family-run restaurant.
"I love it here!" Golson genuinely loved it; it was the go-to place for most students to hang out after class. Although the two people next to her weren't exactly easy to talk to, at least they had something to talk about.
"So it turns out our Five Spices Killer usually comes here to eat alone." Little Fu wasn't too unhappy.
The area was quite crowded during weekday lunchtime, and Gorson, being cautious, remembered to wear a hat before leaving. It was a pity Cheng Xiangwu's house didn't have a full-length mirror; otherwise, she would have immediately realized that she couldn't possibly stay inconspicuous, for reasons evident from her left and right.
Cheng Xiangwu didn't say anything and took a glass of Sprite.
Both of Gordon's parents worked in the city, but for different companies. However, both companies, in keeping with the laid-back lifestyle of Senlake City, provided their employees with an hour-long lunch break. Little F followed the trail and inquired around, soon figuring out where the two had chosen for their lunch break that day.
“Your mother doesn’t plan to leave the company at noon today, but your father and his colleagues are nearby,” Xiao Fu said. “They’re at the casual dining restaurant upstairs; it’s not crowded there.”
“Dad’s blood sugar fluctuated quite a bit,” Golson said nostalgically.
“Go talk to your dad first, and then go see your mom when she gets off work in the evening,” Cheng Xiangwu said.
“Okay!” Golson nodded.
The three of them cornered the person climbing the stairs to lower her post-meal blood sugar in the mall's stairwell. Gorson, clutching her hat, timed her move perfectly, slipping around the corner to bump into her family.
She had already planned what to say: "Wow, long time no see! I heard I died?" or "What a coincidence to run into you here." In short, she wouldn't complain about the strange things that happened to her, wouldn't use her inexplicable dreams to lament her incomprehensible situation, and certainly wouldn't ask, "Why don't you come to see me?"
What's the point of saying it?
“…Dad.” As she said this, she felt her eyes inexplicably sting.
The man, startled by the high school student rushing out from around the corner, paused for a moment. Their eyes met, and those clear pupils, though wet with tears, were the ordinary, bright brown-black that he had praised many times before.
but--
"Classmate?" The man seemed confused. "Classmate, are you alright?"
But he didn't recognize it.
"You...you don't recognize me?" Golson retorted, grabbing her hat and stepping forward. "I'm Golson, Sen Sen, Dad, you really don't recognize me?"
"Hey, classmate, no." The man took a step back, looking a little embarrassed. He didn't know what to say, but he also became alert and began to look around. Everyone knew what that meant.
“…You don’t recognize me,” Golson said.
“Excuse me, you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” The man scratched his head in distress. “My child did look quite like you, and she also had this name, but she recently passed away.”
"Do you want to hear what you're saying?" Golson asked incredulously. "I'm standing right here, I'm alive?!"
The man couldn't understand the connection. He frowned, but not with much sadness; he just felt like he was being scammed.
“Sen Sen is dead. You can’t be her.” The man’s tone hardened.
“No, I—” Golson hurriedly explained, but was interrupted.
"Dude," the man said, "if you keep this up, I'm calling the police."
If she were really dead, that would be fine. If she were really dead, that would be good.
Gorson didn't say anything more. The man shook his head, turned and went downstairs, where he met his colleague who was already waiting downstairs.
"What's wrong?"
"I met someone upstairs who, instead of learning good things, was learning to scam people."
"Stairwell scam? What's that all about?"
"They said he was my child, and his tone and appearance were quite convincing."
"...Is it possible that that's your child?"
"How could that be? She passed away not long ago."
"Hey, my condolences. I was just wondering if it's possible that he couldn't let you go and came to see you?"
"Stop thinking about it, trust science."
Leaving those words behind in the echoing stairwell, the two pushed open the door and stepped into the afternoon city of Mori Lake, where the sunlight flashed by like ghosts.
Cheng Xiangwu and Xiao Fu stood behind the corner without saying a word. Gao Ersen had been standing motionless with his head down since the beginning, like a stiff giraffe.
“Liar,” she said.
Her anger echoed in the stairwell, her words rushing up and down the corridor, stumbling and falling on every step.
“He clearly promised he would always wear the tie I gave him,” Golson said in a low voice. “Does he think he can just change it if I die? There’s no way he’ll do that.”
“I see,” said Little F.
“Something’s definitely not right!” Gorson looked at the two of them, her eyes still red, and raised her voice as if seeking confirmation, “Something’s definitely wrong with my dad. He still believes in science, and he used to be the one who would switch to the TV every morning to check the horoscope! Mom also said that he’d be fooled sooner or later—”
“Yes,” Cheng Xiangwu said.
“Right!” Golson walked over to the two men, taking the crumpled hat he was holding and putting it back on. “Something must be wrong. Alien brainwashing? Poisonous radio waves? Signal hypnosis? And it’s not just him, there are so many people! The police here really don’t do their jobs properly, sigh.”
“Right?” Cheng Xiang nodded.
Xiao Fu didn't say anything; she was adding things to her notebook, seemingly lost in thought.
"...Sorry, he left before I could ask him a lot of questions." Gorson lowered his head, his voice also a little softer. "Don't worry about my feelings, I'm fine. I was a little sad just now, but I'm okay now. It's been a month, how angry can I still be now, haha."
Cheng Xiangwu didn't know what to say. She only felt a faint, shallow layer of helplessness, like the layer of oil floating on the surface of cooked soy milk, which had to be lifted up with great care.
“I’ve seen a similar case in a long documentary.” Little F put away his notebook. “However, that book described a deindividualization behavior that affected the subconscious mind. In my opinion, your father is experiencing the exact opposite, but the subconscious mind is also being affected.”
"Really!" Golson's voice suddenly lit up. "Does that book say anything about whether there's any hope for those affected?"
"If it really is a recurrence of the events described in that book, then unfortunately, at this point, even with the abilities of Sister Fufu and Sister Xiangxiang, there's nothing we can do to reverse the situation, and this world is about to come to an end." Little Fu shrugged.
“Is it that serious…” Golson shrugged.
“But people can be saved,” Little F smiled. “So, how about we pray for the world to end, Miss Golson?”
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