Aoba Office

Pushing open the door of the restaurant, I felt the cold winter wind and shrank my neck.

I subconsciously turned around and saw the waiter's back. He soon entered the restaurant kitchen and was no longer seen.

At the entrance of the restaurant, I could still see the TV screen, but the angle was wrong. I only saw a child in school uniform, and I didn’t know what was on the news.

I raised my hand and looked at it, feeling a strange feeling lingering in my heart.

We walked all the way back to Fatty's house, the two of them were still dozing off.

I called them up, opened the packaging bag, and turned on the TV.

The local station's midday news was introducing Minqing's recent exhibitions, but there was no social news.

I changed the channel and finally saw reports related to ourselves.

The pediatric building of the hospital appeared in my field of vision, along with the blue plastic sheet used by the police to block the view and protect the scene.

Reporters don’t know the details of the incident now, and the casualty reports are only vague numbers.

I stopped picking up the bun.

Those people have corpses, and I can definitely use my power to resurrect them.

Chen Yihan knew about this, and so did the SWAT team members. But Chen Yihan never came to me again.

Aren't you ready to resurrect these people?

I don't know what Chen Yihan planned, but when I think of those children and Han Yun, I feel a sense of regret.

Heartache is out of the question.

I am not married or have children, and my sister is already an adult. It is really difficult for me to have some strong feelings for young children.

What's more, the biggest victim and hero of the whole incident should be Han Yun.

All he had to do was be an old ghost who had lived for a long time. Like the Ghost King, he is free and can do whatever he wants without having to bear much burden at all.

But he carried the souls of those children on his body.

I pinched the bun and felt a little absent-minded. Suddenly, I felt that my thoughts were just the result of my own imagination.

The people of Qingye were willing to die miserably, and Han Yun was willing to erase his own existence.

They all just chose the path they wanted to take.

Those who have no choice are ordinary people.

I felt a pain in my palm, and the traces left by Mencet seemed to become deeper.

I suddenly saw phantoms and had auditory hallucinations.

It felt like entering a dream, but different.

I am still a bystander, and I can empathize with the person involved to a certain extent, but other than that, I feel another strong emotion.

The weird feeling that hung over me grew stronger.

I suddenly realized that it was the feeling of death that Mencet mentioned.

The moment I figured this out, those phantoms and auditory hallucinations became extremely clear.

"Hello? Well. You dialed the wrong number."

"Hey, 1882*****31, is that the number? Zhang Yu, right?"

"Well……"

"You really don't remember who I am? Oh, really...why are you like this? I never saw that you are this kind of person before. Ouyo, really...tsk...you haven't remembered yet?"

The voice on the other end of the phone was a little angry. He sighed loudly several times and asked again.

This sounds like a scam call.

But I felt the hesitation of the person involved.

I saw the appearance of the man, a middle-aged man, who seemed to be in his forties or fifties, wearing a bloated down jacket, holding a mobile phone in one hand, and carrying a bag of vegetables and meat in the other hand, as if he had just returned from the market.

He was waiting on the side of the road for the light to turn green. When the green light came on, he followed the crowd forward, a little absent-mindedly.

Soon, he suddenly realized, "It's Da Zhang? Da Zhang, right? Ah, I really didn't hear it at all. I haven't contacted you for a long time. Da Zhang, Zhang Yongjian, right? Sorry, sorry . It’s really been a long time since I’ve been in touch. Why do you have my number?” He felt a little suspicious.

"I asked. Who did I ask before... I mentioned it in the class group, so I wrote it down. Are you in the group? I remember you were there." The person on the other end of the phone became more and more fluent as he spoke. .

"Yes, yes. I'm not very good at operating it. I can't use the current Internet and chat."

"You weren't like this before."

"Don't mention it. As people get older, they become less capable. I have stayed at home for a long time and am out of touch with society."

"Oh, I heard it. Who said it? How are you now? Are you free now?"

"Now I'm free. My two grandsons are in school, so I pick them up and drop them off in the morning and evening. It's much better than before."

The two started chatting.

I soon saw another figure.

A man in his twenties or thirties was sitting in a cramped office, wearing headphones, talking on the phone while looking at the computer screen.

There were people around him doing basically the same thing.

After a while, the man hung up the phone, tapped on the keyboard a few times, and added information after the string of mobile phone numbers.

"This is basically done. I can ask him to send money next time." The man took off his earphones, raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and said to the people around him.

His voice was obviously different from just now. It was no longer the deep voice of a middle-aged man, and his voice was much younger.

He stood up, humming, and watched the people around him respond to him while talking on the phone.

He walked out of the cramped office and turned into the bathroom nearby.

I have confirmed that this is a fraud group, but the number of people is not large, and they probably did not defraud a large amount of money.

So far, everything has nothing to do with supernatural beings, and I haven't seen any sign of Mencet.

I was puzzled, thinking about how this strange fantasy would end, when the feeling of death came to my mind again.

The man was washing his hands in the sink, looked up in the mirror, and shook his dyed red hair.

His attention was quickly drawn to the mirror.

I also looked at the mirror intently.

In the mirror, the frivolous young man in his twenties and thirties with red hair is changing.

He touched his hair in confusion, and his palms quickly turned red.

It's like the hair color is fading and the hair is falling out.

He smacked his lips and brushed his short, fairly flowing hair again.

His hands full of red hair and red paint made him curse.

"What the hell! That's stupid! It's faded and your hair is falling out! Those bastards..." He walked out angrily. Instead of returning to the office, he grabbed a down jacket from the empty living room, put it on and walked out.

When he went out, he slammed the door hard to vent his anger, and some of his hair fell down.

I saw the white hair on his head.

He quickly went downstairs and came out of the fifth-floor residential building.

This place seems to be a newly picked up community, or a village in the city. The layout of the buildings is a bit chaotic, and there are not many people.

When the cold wind blew, the man couldn't help but shrink his neck.

He coughed twice and didn't stop. He coughed more and more violently.

I saw him covering his mouth with his hands, and his figure gradually became rickety.

It's not because of the cough.

His body was indeed shrinking. From his original height of nearly 1.8 meters, he suddenly shrank to about 1.7 meters. At the same time, his two exposed eyes also became cloudy.

When he put down his hand, his face changed.

His face became a different person.

A strange middle-aged man, looking haggard and terminally ill.

What I saw changed again.

The man who answered the phone, Zhang Yu, was awkwardly asking questions in the group.

"...Dazhang?"

"Yes, Xiao Zhang, big Zhang, that big Zhang. I'm not Xiao Zhang, he is big Zhang, Zhang Yongjian. It turns out we had a very good relationship. We lost contact as soon as we graduated. I never know where he went."

"He returned to his hometown after graduation and fell ill not long after. Lung cancer. There was no news after that. He should have died long ago."

Listening to such a voice message, Zhang Yu was stunned.

On the other side, I saw the young man who had turned into an old man walked to a barber shop and fell to the ground before he could open the door.

His frightened face was reflected on the glass door.

My cervical spine has been very uncomfortable recently and I spend most of my time lying down. _(:3　∠)_

Sorry, there are only two updates today, please understand.

Goodnight everybody.