Chapter 3
719words
He took a deep breath and, with something like suicidal courage, reached for the envelope.
It was physically light. Yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Tearing open the seal, he found a rough, handmade yellowish-brown paper inside. He unfolded it.
Dark red writing—like dried, congealed blood—was scrawled across it:
Last Wish List - Client Number: 044
Find my ring. It's in the hands of 'the crying woman.'
Put it on the left ring finger of 'me in the mirror.'
Tell her: 'I'm sorry I'm late.'
After completing all this, please play 'Moonlight Sonata' for me.
The handwriting conveyed an indescribable sadness and urgency, as if written by someone in immense pain.
'Crying Woman'? 'Me in the Mirror'? Owen's scalp prickled with fear.
What the hell is this about?
Rule Seven about mirrors immediately surfaced in his mind.
'You've got to be kidding me…' he muttered, as ice crawled up his spine.
Just then—'Woo… woo woo…' A faint, intermittent sobbing drifted from the depths of the hallway. The sound was soft, but in the deathly silence, it might as well have been right beside his ear. Owen froze, his blood turning to slush.
Rule Four: [Direct conversation or emotional exchange with any 'client' is prohibited].
This crying… was it from a 'client'? Was it the 'Crying Woman'? He glanced sharply at the drawer.
Rule Two: [Only the deceased who have received a 'Black Envelope' are your service targets].
This crying woman clearly wasn't his client No.044! Was she from the 'Regular Department'? Or… something else entirely?
The crying continued, mournful and sorrowful, like an icy needle piercing his heart.
Owen forced himself to stay calm.
Task number one: Find the ring. The ring was in the hands of the 'crying woman.' He had to find her. But rule four prohibited communication… how could he get the ring? Snatch it? He scanned the small intern room—no tools in sight.
Rule five: [Only tools provided by the funeral home may be used]. 'Tools…' He recalled the makeup kits and spices mentioned in the rules.
Perhaps they were in another room? He cautiously pushed open the door of the intern room.
The corridor stretched long, with unmarked doors tightly shut on both sides. Pale ceiling lights cast a cold glow, making his shadow dance—now long, now short.
The crying seemed to come from the right side at the corridor's end. He held his breath, pressed against the wall, and inched forward. Each step fell in time with his thundering heartbeat.
At the corridor's end stood a T-junction. The crying came from the right. He peered around. The lighting in the right corridor seemed dimmer.
About a dozen meters away, a woman in a white dress had her back to him, curled up against the wall. Her shoulders heaved with each sob.
Her figure seemed blurry, as if viewed through frosted glass. Owen's heart leapt into his throat.
He noticed the woman's left hand was tightly clenched, with what appeared to be a metallic glint between her fingers. A ring! Just as he hesitated on how to approach—something happened!
'Tap… tap… tap…' Clear footsteps echoed from the left corridor! Not high heels or leather shoes, but more like… wet, bare feet slapping against the floor.
Owen whipped his head around. From the shadows of the left corridor, a blurry, humanoid silhouette in a dark, old-fashioned uniform was slowly moving toward him!
It kept its head lowered, face obscured, but an indescribably cold aura—reeking of rust and formaldehyde—hit him full in the face. A Night Patroller!
Rule six: [Do not look directly at them, do not speak to them, do not block their path]!
Cold sweat instantly drenched Owen's back.
Instinctively, he wanted to retreat, but to his right was the crying woman, and to his left, the approaching Night Patroller! He was trapped at the T-junction!
'Wuu…' The woman's crying grew more frantic, more terrified at the approaching footsteps. The Night Patroller drew closer, wet footsteps echoing down the empty corridor like Death's own drumbeat.
Owen's mind went blank. The rules! Breaking them meant being 'cleaned'! What the hell should he do?
