The lover that gravity makes is wrong

In September, as if to squander the last remaining summer heat, when it should be getting cooler, the sun is baking the ground of Tokyo desperately.

Before going out, many office workers glanced at the steaming road through the window and swallowed three times before mustering up the courage to step out of the air-conditioned room.

Amidst the noisy cicadas, the retired old men hid in the restaurants they frequented to cool off with the air conditioner.

The old TV hanging on the wall is rebroadcasting yesterday's news.

In Tokyo, in addition to the bustling shops in the central business district, there are many such little-known small restaurants.

They are usually opened in corner alleys far away from the crowd, and they are the "gourmet treasures" that only the old men and women who have lived in this residential area for most of their lives will know.

Probably because of this reason, the owner of this restaurant did not chase away the customers, but instead moved a chair and sat there to chat with the customers.

The fluent voice of the TV host was mixed with the voices of chatting and joking with the guests.

The air conditioner on the wall was blowing a cool breeze, and it was a leisurely, quiet time, except for a black-haired young man who was out of tune with the crowd.

This man looked about 30 years old, with a shaggy beard, and it was a hot day, but he was wearing a turtleneck sweater and a long coat.

From the moment I entered the door, I sat alone in the corner of the restaurant.

He didn't eat what he ordered, and stared at his phone the whole time, for fear that he would miss key news in the blink of an eye.

The old men in the store looked at each other, one of them raised his hand gossipingly, gestured with a little finger, and said in a low voice,

"Is it because of this?"

It doesn't look like it.

The restaurateur shook his head.

He was the only person in the store who had spoken to the strange man.

The other party's face was haggard, his eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night, and his gestures carried a calm aura of panic and compulsion.

Rather than saying that they came to catch a cheating lover, it was more like they were about to be cornered——

"Dad? Where's the baseball bat I brought back yesterday? Where did you hide it?"

With the sound of hurried footsteps going downstairs, a girl's head protruded from the stairs on the second floor of the restaurant.

With a wrinkled face, the girl looked at the restaurant owner with disapproval.

She is the daughter of the owner of the restaurant. She is 15 years old and a student of a nearby junior high school. She basically grew up under the watchful eyes of regular customers in the restaurant.

"Go, go, I didn't move your precious bat. You must have thrown it around again."

The restaurant owner waved at his daughter and said angrily,

"Besides, you are a girl's family, playing with these rude things all day long, you should be more elegant, you know? By the way, I heard yesterday that Xiao Mai next door signed up for a flower arrangement class, or I will give you too..."

"Ahh! I can't hear it, the cicadas are too loud, I can't hear anything—~"

Seeing that her father was about to mention those clichés again, the girl skillfully covered her ears, and rushed back upstairs with a bang bang bang bang.

"Smelly brat, you know how to get mad at me!"

The restaurant owner laughed and cursed angrily, but there was no look of anger on his face, instead there was a sense of pride.

Sure enough, an old customer who knew him well pierced him with a single sentence.

"Hey, you're not authentic, boss. Look at all those baseball game trophies you put in the store, they've all been removed if you can."

"That's right, showing off her daughter again, as if no one doesn't have a little padded jacket."

"But having said that, Xiaomei has grown so big in the blink of an eye..."

As usual, the restaurant owner greeted the regular customers with a smile on his face, but from the corner of his eyes, he quietly glanced at the corner of the store, where the black-haired man was sitting.

——Sure enough.

That is also a 'father'.

Restaurateurs noticed when the phrase 'Dad' came out,

The man raised his head reflexively, with an expression of surprise on his face for a moment, but after seeing that it was Xiaomei, he lowered his head in disappointment, staring at the phone even more anxiously.

There is usually only one possibility for a father to show such an expression.

And definitely not a good thing.

Speaking of which, it seems that I heard that a child has been reported missing recently, and I don't know how the investigation is going.

Or let Xiaomei behave better recently, try not to go out before school starts...

The restaurateur was thinking casually.

Suddenly, a sharp text message sounded in the store. The boss noticed the man and swiped the phone almost immediately.

After watching for a while, he suddenly raised his head and stared in the direction of the TV.

television?What happened to the TV?

The restaurant owner turned his head suspiciously, only to find that the man who was sitting still a moment ago suddenly got up and rushed over, snatched the remote control from the old customer, and switched the program station to a new channel with shaking hands.

"Hey! What's the matter with you?"

The diner who was robbed of the remote control stood up dissatisfied, and was about to settle the score.

But after seeing the man's expression on the verge of madness, he froze for a second, then sat back slowly, shaking his head at the others.

The atmosphere in the store was silent, only the sound of the TV broadcast echoed in the room.

The channel the man tuned to was broadcasting a news talk show.

——【"Welcome back to Tokyo Nikkei News, Pope Clement X, the youngest Pope in history, will come to Japan for an interview soon"]

——【It is said that this is the last stop of Mr. Clement's visit. During this period, he has held many charity fundraising banquets in various countries and launched a new initiative for child protection. Bishop Clement, there are many issues in the world, why are you alone? Do you only like this one?”]

On the TV, the foreign man in a suit smiled at the camera, his green pupils flashing a gentle and compassionate smile.

——["I personally always believe that children are gifts from God, with unlimited futures and possibilities, especially...a seven-year-old child."]

The foreign man paused for a second when he said this, deepening the smile on his face,

——【"Doesn't your country also have many stories about children and sons of God? Not long ago, I heard an ancient legend..."]

"There is such a person in the world, the 37-year-old pope. But he doesn't stay in the church of his country, so why come here?"

"Who knows, he probably wants to save all sentient beings. I dare say that his face alone is enough to attract a group of mindless believers."

The old diners in the store whispered.

The blond pope was still talking, but the brunette didn't intend to listen anymore.

His eyes were fixed on the news scrolling below the talk show, and he followed the instructions of the mobile phone information, listed the main points one by one, and spelled out a line of words,

"Sakura in Japan... Liu, Dao... is Liudao Township!"

The man yelled. After stuffing the small book back into his pocket, he grabbed a few banknotes and threw them at the cashier.

Then he rushed out of the restaurant without even asking for change, and was knocked to the ground by a passing bicycle because he didn't look at the road halfway.

"Yes, I'm sorry sir, you are not injured... blood, your forehead is bleeding! I will call an ambulance..."

"No... I'm fine..."

The black-haired man staggered up from the ground, and was about to stop him, when he heard another 'beep', and a new instruction text message was sent to his mobile phone, with only a short sentence on it——

[You have three hours. 】

"hateful!"

It's only been three hours...it's too late!

The pupils of the man who saw the message shrank suddenly, and regardless of his dizzy head, which was still bleeding, he pushed away the young man who was supporting him, got into the car, started the key, and stepped on the accelerator hard!

"Wait for me, thrush!"

And behind him, no one noticed that there was a black-haired girl in an old black sailor suit, standing in the restaurant all the time, watching this scene quietly through the glass on the door.

"Shibata..."

Yan Moai lowered her thick eyelashes thoughtfully, and when the wind blew, the Buddha bell bracelet on her wrist made a fine ringing sound.

******

This man is called Shibataichi, and his main job is a freelance journalist.

But even though he was a reporter, his real job was always to follow celebrities, secretly photograph their scandals, and then sell them to newspapers and magazines at high prices, or threaten them with ransom.

This kind of work, of course, has attracted a lot of resentment.

Once there was a female star who was secretly photographed, threw a box of banknotes all over his face, cursed angrily,

"Just wait, paparazzi! Sooner or later, you will be punished!"

At that time, Shibata stood there for a long time, and finally just wiped his face vigorously, squatted down, picked up the banknotes that had fallen on the ground one by one, counted them carefully and put them back into the suitcase.

It's just insulting, he doesn't care about it.

Shibata only knows that the money is for her daughter's future tuition fees, travel expenses, and for a long time, she won't have to worry about thrush, and the next meal will be a good life.

Retribution is retribution, he accepts it.

Shibata said indifferently.

However, he did not expect that this retribution would finally fall on his only daughter.

Just three days ago, on the day of Shibata Tsugumi's birthday, Shibata got off work early on purpose and went to pick up his daughter with the ordered cake and gifts, but he didn't find her daughter until sunset.

Instead, a threatening letter cut out of newspaper lay quietly in his inbox.

——【If you want your daughter to live, just listen to the arrangement honestly】

That night, Shibata's fingers were shaking while holding the letter.

Who is it?

The president of XX who was blackmailed by him is still the OO idol who just debuted, or the one from earlier...

In an instant, countless names flashed through Shibata's mind.

His first reaction was to suppress his panic and choose to report to the police station.

But soon, he found that he was wrong.

On the night of the day when he called the police, Shibata, who had just finished his notes, had just returned home when he received an anonymous express mail at the door.

Inside is the hairpin that his daughter Tsugumi Shibata wore on her head on the day she disappeared.

On the third day, it was a cut braid.

On the fourth day, it was Shibata Tsugumi's skirt.

At the same time, a text message appeared on his screen with a beep.

There is only one sentence above——

[The next time, it will be your daughter's thumb. 】

Shibata was devastated.

He no longer dared to do any unnecessary things. After rushing back to the police station in despair and falsely claiming that he had reported a false case, he stayed up day and night for the next few days, waiting for time, and was instructed by the content of the text message Go round and round.

Hell Girl, Sendaro...

Shibata didn't remember how many places he traveled or what he did, he just waited for the instructions from the mobile phone in a daze, and then executed them.

Simply every time, after obeying the order, he would receive a photo of his daughter with the latest newspaper of the day next to it.

At least this proved that his thrush was still alive.

This torture lasted for seven days, until the eighth day, he finally found the final location——

Liudao Township, Qitong Temple.

*****

The abbot of Qitong Temple is a very kind monk.

After knowing the purpose of Shibata's false claim to obtain materials, he didn't question it, but entertained him warmly.

"Please use it. Although it is dry tea, it is enough to quench your thirst."

In the room lit with elegant incense, a man in a monk's robe smiled and put the cold tea soup in front of Shibataichi,

"But having said that, it's really hard work for a big reporter like you to come here from Tokyo."

Shibata pulled the corners of his mouth stiffly, trying to put on a peaceful smile, but the hand holding the pen couldn't stop shaking.

At this moment, he was holding a dark piece of paper inside the booklet.

That was what Shibata found on the third day, following the instructions of the text message, in an abandoned house.

【Hell communication】

As a well-informed paparazzi, Shibata had certainly heard of this urban legend.

It is rumored that as long as you write the name of the person you hate on special black paper at midnight, a hell girl will appear and exile the person to hell.

This is of course nonsense.

Although I don't know where the rumors came from, the people in the magazine have already experimented jokingly, writing the name of the boss they hate the most, but after waiting for a long time, nothing happened.

At that time, many colleagues laughed at him because he was old and still had this kind of "childlike innocence".

But this black paper is different.

Whether it's a strange intuition, or an inexplicable premonition, he can feel it.

The piece of paper under the fingertips, just touching it normally, can feel a bone-piercing chill.

This is the real real thing.

Shibata's pen tip resting on the piece of paper was trembling.

Just when he arrived at the temple, he received the latest instructions from the text message——

【Write down the abbot's name】

Shibata didn't want to do it, but he had no choice.

The visiting guests came with killing intent, but the kind-hearted abbot didn't notice it.

Just when the man was about to make the last stroke, the abbot, who was staring at Shibataichi's business card, seemed to remember something, and suddenly said with a sigh,

"But it's fate, Shibata-san."

"No, it should be said... It took us a lot of effort to find you, Mr. Shibata."

"……Varied?!"

Shibata's pen stopped, and he subconsciously raised his head to look at the abbot opposite, only to find that his eyes were blurred, and his whole body seemed to be drained of strength, and his limbs fell limply on the ground.

The pen in his hand slipped and rolled around on the floor a few times before being picked up by one hand.

"Well, after all, it's an old story in Azuchi Momoyama's time."

The abbot played with the pen in his hand and walked towards Shibata one step at a time.

Shibata, who was limp on the ground, tried to stand up, but found that he couldn't even move a finger, but his consciousness was terribly clear.

The abbot's voice floated from above and fell into the man's ears,

"Give up, this incense, but it has been verified by a group of idiots. Even if you are eaten alive by a group of evil spirits, you will not be able to move."

"Where did you just say that? That's right, the Azuchi Momoyama era."

The abbot said in a scientific way, "Mr. Shibata, have you heard of the custom of 'send seven'? It's a very old story."

"In order to pray to the mountain god to be free from disease and disaster, and to have a good harvest, every seven years, the villagers will send a seven-year-old girl to the mountain and dedicate her to the god."

"At that time, there was also a nursery rhyme written based on this, which was specially sung. I remember it seems to be—"

"When do cherry blossoms smell? When seven-year-olds laugh and play. When are cherry blossoms flying? When seven-year-olds sing and fall asleep."

"When will the cherry blossoms wither? When the dead seven-year-old child ascends to heaven."

While humming a song, the abbot stopped at the spot where Shibata had fallen.

He squatted down on the spot, picked up the scattered black paper, put the pen back into Shibata's hand, then held his hand, and slowly filled in the last stroke on the paper.

【bell--】

The moment the last line of the nursery rhyme fell, as the names on the paper were written, a girl in an old black sailor suit appeared behind them.

Black-haired and blood-eyed, with a Buddha bell bracelet on his cold white wrist, the bells rang in the setting sun, making tiny bells.

"Dangdang, big surprise! Are you happy, hell girl?"

The abbot stood up, grinned and looked at Yan Moai. He opened his arms as if asking for credit, and gestured to the man who fell on the ground.

"No, you should be called Ai-chan here."

The man dressed as the abbot laughed nervously, his tone excited and crazy,

"Are you happy, Ai-chan! I have helped you catch the descendants of those ominous bloodlines that killed you in the first place! Whether it's Shibata Ichi or Shibata Tsugumi, buried alive, burned to death, stone mortar, whatever you like!"

Yan Moai's expression remained unchanged.

Whether it's the bizarre courtship of strangers, or the offspring of Sendaro who killed her in the past on the ground.

Yan Moaidu just glanced disinterestedly, and stopped on the abbot's expressive face.

"Oh it's you."

Yan Moai looked at the abbot expressionlessly, and said in a cold tone.

At the Yulan Basin ceremony, Sanzi reminded Yan Moai to be careful.

Although she didn't understand what happened, after she left, the black-haired girl went to the records department to check the information.

The artificial intelligence little A brought back to hell by the third son told her that there seemed to be fanatics of "Hell Girl" in this world.

Information about Hell Girls is being investigated, including the custom of 'Sending Seven' more than 400 years ago, and historical sites such as Qitong Temple.

Enthusiast?

Yan Moai was noncommittal about this.

Including when hearing the name of Sendaro again, the black-haired girl was only in a trance for a moment, and soon returned to normal.

Yan Moai has long since found a new method for those unresolved resentments.

Compared to finding those people one by one and killing them again, the black-haired girl felt that the method of the first assistant officer of Yan Mo Hall was very good.

It's just that Yan Moai prefers the biogas pit of the excrement department to the gatepost of Izana Beauty at the burning place, and it happens to be with the group of garbage that sacrificed the third son.

But not caring, does not mean that she allows human beings in this world to use it to achieve unknown purposes, especially in this sensitive period.

Yan Moai raised her eyelids, her blood-colored pupils looked at the abbot coldly.

The moment his eyes fell, the other party's face suddenly turned blue, as if someone had strangled his throat, showing an expression as if he was drowning and struggling to breathe.

He raised his hand uncomfortably, trying to break off the invisible shackles around his neck, but his feet were lifted off the ground by an unknown force, and his whole body was suspended in mid-air.

"Where is Shibata Thrush?" Yan Moai asked coldly.

However, unexpectedly, under the illusion of torture, the abbot of Qitong Temple not only did not beg for mercy, but seemed to have caught the handle, slowly raised the corners of his lips,

"...Ha, it is exactly as the adult expected, Yan Moai, after all these years, you are still so stupid."

Yan Mo's heart moved and found something was wrong.

Just when she was about to leave, the abbot suddenly changed his eyebrows, grasped the shackles around his neck with his backhand, and ordered in a hoarse voice,

"—Do it!"

The moment the abbot's voice fell, the [Boundary] around him was forcibly broken.

The array arranged under the temple started immediately.

Countless talisman papers and spirit spells of the divine way came one after another, turning into ropes and binding them to Yan Moai's hands and limbs.

The man fell to the ground coughing, and sneered without writing: "So what about coming from hell, what about the jailer?"

"In the end, you are not even a ghost, and you are just a 'spirit'."

The man dressed as the abbot walked up to Yan Moai with his hands behind his back, like a stroll in the courtyard.

He admired the appearance of the black-haired girl bound up in a spider's web like a spider's prey, and said with a smile: "Supernatural powers, onmyojis, exorcists... since they are 'spirits', there are always ways to deal with them, right? ?”

Accompanied by his voice, the entourage who hid in the dark came out.

Everyone wore a mask on their faces and stood behind the Abbot of Qitong Temple.

"Jailor...ghost clan..."

Hearing this, Yan Moai suddenly opened his eyes wide, his expression changed suddenly,

"No! This is a trap, your real goal is—!"

"Hey."

The abbot grinned, a sullen and disgusting smile appearing on his face.

……

…………

At midnight that day, Huang Quan received a message

The Hell Communication Headquarters, the hell girl Enma Ai, disappeared in this world.

Fifth Interrogation Office, Yan Mo Hall

The first assistant officer put away the scroll in his hand and handed it to King Yan Mo, who was above him.

"It's time to start, Your Majesty."

*****

At the same time, the present

The red-haired ghost girl stood alone on the top of the tall building.

The howling wind rolled up from the bottom of the [-]th floor, blowing away the bangs on her forehead, revealing a pair of jewel-like emerald pupils, looking straight in the direction of the Tokyo Tower.

At the end of Sanzi's vision, a huge motorboat was driving and staying in the air.

The flickering red light on the hull was a coincidence, aiming at the direction of the third son, as if an invisible person had opened his arms and was inviting the ghost messenger——

"Come here ghost messenger, I'm right here."