Chapter 600: Wife-Killing Diary

Two standard hospital beds sat in the room, flanked by low bedside cabinets. A tent had been pitched in the empty space between them.

The tent was small, just big enough for a single person to curl up inside. A case of beer and a case of bottled water flanked it.

"You've got quite the comfortable setup here." I glanced at the empty bottles tossed into the corner. I hadn't expected the stranger to be a drunk.

"We creative types all have our quirks. I happen to like drinking." The man dragged a box of instant noodles out from behind the tent. "I'm prepared for the long haul. I can easily hold out here for a week or two."

Seeing the supplies the stranger had brought, my suspicions began to fade. His behavior was completely different from a live show streamer's. Perhaps he really was just a horror novelist looking for material.

"Aren't you scared, staying alone in this godforsaken place?"

"Fear is exactly what I'm after. If I can't even scare myself, how could I write something that makes my readers' skin crawl?" The man chuckled. "I'm a pretty gutsy guy. It takes a lot to scare me these days. I came to a place like this to write so I could push for a major breakthrough."

I nodded. 'These artistic types are all a little unhinged,' I thought. "Judging by your accent, you aren't from Jiangcheng?"

"I'm from North China. I happened to hear a friend mention this place, so I came out of my way to find it."

"For your friend to know about such a hidden location, he must be pretty well-connected, right?"

"He's just an ordinary guy. But he used to work as an orderly in this hospital, so he heard a few things."

"What did he hear? Does it have something to do with the hospital's sudden relocation?" I asked, a little curious. This man seemed to have some inside information.

"The relocation was a decision made by the higher-ups. My friend was just an orderly, so how could he possibly have contact with those people?" The stranger's face was extremely odd, particularly his uneven eyes, which blinked out of sync as he spoke. "But according to him, before the hospital moved, the success rate for surgeries plummeted. Patients were dying almost every day. Later on, a doctor on the night shift jumped off the building. All of this actually happened."

"Did he know the exact reason why?"

"Forget about him. I bet the only people in the entire hospital who knew the truth were the director and the senior administration."

I tried to pick apart his answers, but I couldn't find any obvious flaws in his story.

Glancing over at him, I suddenly realized that ever since we had entered the room, he had been sitting right at the opening of the tent. He was sitting straight up, seemingly using his body to block my line of sight so I couldn't see what was inside.

Once I noticed this, I began to pace around the room with purpose. I kept my Judging Eye locked on the tent, determined to figure out what secret he was hiding inside.

The man quickly realized what I was doing and stiffly shifted his body.

But as he moved, a gap naturally opened up. It was impossible for him to block the view completely.

Using my Judging Eye, I got a rough look inside. The tent held two sets of spare clothes, a few books, and a sleeping bag. What puzzled me, however, was how bulging the sleeping bag was. It faintly traced the outline of a human figure!

I stopped in my tracks. Unwilling to get any closer to the man, my gaze grew wary and my expression cooled. "Is there someone else in the tent?"

"Don't get the wrong idea." The man didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "It's not exactly something to be proud of, but since you've already seen it, it's no big deal."

He stood up and stepped aside, dragging the sleeping bag out with a sheepish look. When I saw what was inside, my expression instantly turned strange.

"An inflatable... girlfriend?"

"Silicone," the man corrected, stuffing the sleeping bag back into the tent with a rather awkward expression. "Don't get the wrong idea. I just wanted some company."

He pointed to his own face. "I've struggled with an inferiority complex ever since I was a kid. I can only really find myself in my novels. This doll is like a wife to me. She stays by my side and never leaves."

'If an inflatable girlfriend actually had a choice, she'd probably leave a mess of a guy like you too.'

After all, what normal person would willingly come to a place like this to experience life?

Naturally, I kept those hurtful words to myself. I simply nodded, putting on a highly understanding expression. "Loneliness is a bitter pill to swallow. I know that feeling well."

My words seemed to strike a chord with him. He strongly agreed, and the distance between us closed significantly. I could hear his voice soften.

"Want a beer? What are the odds of the two of us running into each other in this godforsaken place? You know, when I heard the noise and saw you, I honestly thought it was a ghost! You wearing that mask completely freaked me out." The man grinned, though the expression only made him look uglier. His entire face seemed to twist and contort.

He casually grabbed a can of beer from the right side of the case and offered it to me. I shook my head. Alcohol numbed the nerves and impaired judgment; in an environment like this, I needed to stay absolutely clear-headed.

"I'll pass on the beer, my tolerance is terrible." It was just an excuse, but not wanting to embarrass the man, I quickly changed the subject. "Looking at all these preparations you've made—a tent, beer... is it really worth pushing yourself like this just to write a novel?"

"You wouldn't understand." The man set the beer down in front of me, then pulled another from the left side of the case, opened it, and took a drink himself. "When the inspiration hits, you feel like the greatest person in the world. But when it dries up, you're left pulling your hair out, wishing you were dead. Coming to experience an abandoned hospital is nothing compared to that."

"I really don't understand," I said with a light chuckle. "I'll have to read your work sometime. There aren't many authors as dedicated as you."

The man smiled mysteriously. "You might have actually read my books before. After all, I have a fair bit of influence in the horror and suspense circles."

"I have?" I paused, momentarily taken aback. "What exactly have you written?"

The smile on his face slowly widened. His eyes were filled with anticipation; he looked absolutely certain that as soon as he said the name, I would be blown away.

"Have you ever read Wife-Killing Diary?"

"Wife-Killing..." Hearing that title, I froze. A massive wave of shock crashed through my mind!

'Wife-Killing Diary? Wasn't that written by Wang Shi? What's going on? The real Wang Shi is dead, and his resurrected ghost is still back at Century New Garden running interference for me!'

The man had already heard my sharp intake of breath. Not wanting to blow my cover, I had no choice but to play along. "You wrote that novel?! You're Corpse Body Human Face, that mysterious suspense author? I heard you didn't even show up to the awards ceremony!"

The man seemed extremely pleased by my excited tone. "I knew someone like you, who enjoys exploring haunted places, would have read my novels."

"I never expected to meet my idol out here. If I may ask, what is your real name?" I softened my tone. I quickly replayed everything that had happened since I met this man in my head, and suddenly, a number of glaring inconsistencies stood out.

Before running into him, I had seen a dark figure flash past in the corridor of the Sarcoma Center. That figure was highly likely to have been him.

Furthermore, when we first met, he hadn't been holding a flashlight or any other light source. He had just been standing straight in the doorway. The only light at the time had come from my phone.

This man could see in the dark. I had been too startled to notice it at the time.

Lowering my gaze to the can of beer sitting in front of me, I recalled his earlier movements.

He had grabbed this beer from the right side of the case, but the one he opened for himself had come from the far left!

'This beer is likely drugged!'

In a flash, my mind raced, and a cold murderous intent toward the man welled up inside me.

"My real name? It wouldn't be convenient to tell you. We're just strangers crossing paths by chance, so let's not sweat the details. Why don't we just use our professions?" The man laughed heartily, not showing a single trace of malice. "You call me Writer, and I'll call you Streamer. Nice and simple."

Killing a live show streamer was an optional task in the Underworld Live Show, rewarding ten points. By doing this, the man was making it obvious that he intended to tell everyone I was a streamer.

"I'll pass. Being called Streamer feels a bit weird." I extended my hand toward him, Yin energy concealed like needles within my palm, and offered him a smile. "It's not every day you run into your idol in a dump like this. You can just call me Xia Chi."