Chapter 85: Codename: Supernatural Disaster Bureau

The strange thread ended abruptly there.

Just as he was about to exit and browse other threads, he unexpectedly noticed a prompt for new replies at the bottom. After an entire month, the original poster, Evening Breeze Falling on Shoulders, had actually returned.

105th Floor:

Evening Breeze Falling on Shoulders:

Thank you to everyone who still remembers me.

I will say this one more time: everything I wrote actually happened!

Maybe one day you'll encounter something similar in real life. If you do, you must remember to follow my method—that is your best chance at surviving!

106th Floor:

Netizen C:

Hurry up and tell us what happened after you called the police last time, OP.

Pulling up a chair.

—

Looking forward to it!

107th Floor:

Evening Breeze Falling on Shoulders:

Let me see, where should I begin?

Oh, right, it was after I called the police and someone knocked on my door.

At the time, I checked through the peephole to confirm there was a male and a female officer outside before I felt safe enough to open the door.

After entering the apartment, the two officers' expressions changed when they heard that "heave-ho" chanting.

I suggested they open the window to check the situation, but the female officer said that wouldn't be necessary. They took some photos for evidence, left me a phone number, and advised me to call it to explain what was happening. They told me specialized personnel would come to handle this kind of thing soon.

As for that night, they said I could stay at the police station temporarily since they had beds and hot water. Quite a few people were in the same boat as me—they had encountered strange things, couldn't go home, and were staying there for the time being.

Of course, it was inevitably crowded. There were simply far too many people calling the police lately.

—

108th Floor Evening Breeze Falling on Shoulders:

Since even the police couldn't handle it, I had no choice but to pack some toiletries and head downstairs with them, dialing that mysterious phone number along the way.

Even though it was midnight, the call connected. It was the voice of a female customer service representative. She asked me what was wrong, and half-skeptical, I recounted the strange things I'd recently experienced.

The operator recorded everything on her end. After asking for my home address, she told me the queue was simply too long lately and they weren't sure how long it would take to process my case. She said I might have to wait a while, and they would notify me once it was handled.

The operator also warned me not to go home for the time being, at least if I still wanted to live. I asked where I was supposed to stay if I couldn't go home. Her attitude was completely icy; she just said that was my own problem and outside their scope of service, then hung up on me.

109th Floor:

Evening Breeze Falling on Shoulders:

To be honest, I hadn't held out much hope to begin with.

For the next week, I stayed in a youth hostel, crammed into a room with seven or eight other girls.

Then, just three days ago, that mysterious number called me back. This time it was a male representative. He told me the issue with my apartment had been resolved, and there wouldn't be any strange people dancing outside a tenth-floor window anymore.

I wanted to ask a few more questions, but I could hear a lot of phones ringing in the background on his end. The male representative was very impatient. He just said there were other calls waiting in line and hung up.

Besides, I really didn't have much money left on me. Feeling extremely anxious, I returned to my tenth-floor apartment. When ten o'clock rolled around that night, the strange chanting and that old man never appeared again.

112th Floor:

Netizen G:

I have to ask, what is that phone number?

Even though nothing like this has happened at my place yet, reading your thread is really terrifying. It's better to be prepared just in case.

—

113th Floor:

Netizen I:

Those people don't have a fixed phone number; they change it every so often. Asking for the number here is completely pointless.

They are a group of experts who deal with ghosts. Because they've handled so many cases, they've started drawing the attention of some intelligent Fierce Ghosts.

That's why they are extremely hard to find.

As far as I know, the codename for that group is the Supernatural Disaster Bureau.

This organization codenamed the Supernatural Disaster Bureau—Gao Tian had seen their name more than once over the past two weeks.

Gao Tian felt that an official organization dedicated to handling paranormal events might actually exist.

After all, the supernatural was reviving across the entire world, and it was impossible for the highest levels of various governments to remain completely ignorant of this fact. When facing paranormal events, ordinary people had almost no choice but to wait for death, just like when he first encountered the Shattered Face Ghost.

If the situation were allowed to continue deteriorating like this, it would sooner or later lead to vicious supernatural disasters, perhaps even resulting in the destruction of entire cities.

He proceeded to click on the next thread.

—

[Woman in the Rain]

Original Post:

Cat-Eating Fish:

Is anyone there?

Can anyone, whoever you are, come and help me?

I've tried so many methods. I sought out Daoist priests and Buddhist monks, but no matter what I do, I just can't shake off that strange woman.

I feel like I might be about to die. It all started with that strange video.

1st Floor:

Cat-Eating Fish:

This happened about a month ago, or maybe even longer. I don't know, because I'm on the verge of losing my mind.

Younger friends might not realize this, but nowadays all videos, novels, and music are uploaded to the internet and can be downloaded in just a few seconds with a simple click.

In the past, however, this kind of important media was stored on video cassette tapes.

When I was moving last month, I dug up a strange video cassette from my father's belongings. My father was an international student who had spent some time studying abroad in his youth. Growing up, my relationship with him wasn't very good. My mother passed away quite early, and I moved out of the house shortly after I started working. In my eyes, he was a very strange man. For a long time after his death, I never dared to touch the things he left behind.

It was that single moment of curiosity that completely ruined my life.

2nd Floor:

Cat-Eating Fish:

My father's belongings were very simple. Aside from some clothes, bedsheets, and personal journals, there was also a single video cassette tape. I had no idea what was on this tape, and he had never mentioned it to me. I guessed it was probably footage he shot while studying overseas in his younger years. After all, back in his day, a video camera was a rather trendy piece of equipment and quite difficult to buy domestically.

After burning the rest of his belongings, only this tape remained, and I had originally intended to burn it with everything else. However, a friend of mine owned an old audio-visual store, and he still had the equipment to play this kind of old-school video cassette. Under his persuasion, I decided to check the contents of the tape to satisfy my curiosity before destroying it.

3rd Floor Cat-Eating Fish:

The contents were completely different from what I had imagined; it was a segment of seemingly meaningless footage. I don't know what kind of mental state my father was in during his youth to have recorded this, much less treat it like a treasure, sealing it away and keeping it all the way until the day he died.

In the blurry video, there was a muddy dirt path. Looking at the surrounding scenery, it was impossible to tell whether this was filmed abroad or domestically.

The sky was a gloomy gray, and it was raining constantly. The sound of rain falling could be heard continuously in the background.

The entire video consisted of only a single shot.

A woman wearing gray clothes was standing motionless in the rain, holding up a white umbrella.

The woman's stature was extremely tall, yet her legs were surprisingly short. The pure white umbrella obscured the majority of her face, leaving only a pair of blood-red lips visible.

She simply stood there quietly, without the slightest movement. If it weren't for the rain falling continuously in the recording, I would have even thought it was just a freeze-frame image.