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Chapter 109: The Black-and-white Demon Domain (4)

The calendar showed that today was November 24, 1990. Feng Bujue was working at an electrical devices manufacturer, which was considered a big company in town even though it was far behind the big companies in the cities. 

Before Feng Bujue started to investigate, he checked his pockets as usual. The three keys appeared again, which meant he had to use them soon.

As a person living in the 50s of the 21st century, seeing a computer in front of him, he would definitely turn it on and work on it later. Then… well, no then. Staring at the black monitor and the flashing cursor, to someone who knew sh*t about DOS (1) like Feng Bujue, he could only roll his eyes.

He then reluctantly started to read the paper files on his desk. After he had spent 20 minutes, he determined that those were useless. Thus, he had to check each drawer of his desk. It wasn’t out of his expectation as he found a locked drawer. He tried the keys he had, and indeed, there was one key which could unlock that drawer.

When he pulled out the drawer, Feng Bujue saw a big envelope. Inside that big envelope, he found a smaller one, which had three words -- ‘Letter of Resignation’.

Feng Bujue sneakily observed here and there then opened both of the two letters. The big one had Hirata Shuichi’s profile. This guy had graduated from the University of Kyoto. No doubt why he could be the vice director when he was just 30 years old. It was unknown why he had to stay and work in this small town.

Inside the smaller envelope was the resignation letter. Feng Bujue took a look at it. Afterwards, he somehow understood the situation. This Hirata dude was a good guy. He wanted to keep as many workers who had families with difficulties as much as possible, and he had also recognized that he should resign in order to do so.

After he had read them all, Feng Bujue put them back to the drawer, locked it carefully and then came to the toilet.

The reason why he decided to hide in the toilet was that he wanted to use [Planned Victory From A Thousand Miles Away] again. He didn’t want to use it in the office. In case that head-splitting happened again and he held his head while falling from the chair, it could create a mess in the office.

After taking a deep breath, Feng Bujue activated his title granted skill again. The result was exactly the same as the previous one. The pain, which was like it had come from deep inside his bones, shot over his brain. However, he didn’t have any other clues or data except for the image of his face. This face was similar to the face he had seen with the horrified, speechless countenance, and bulging empty eyes.

While Feng Bujue was holding his head, pulling himself together from the headache and dizziness, he heard the toilet door being pushed open. From the sound of their footsteps, Feng Bujue guessed that there were two people coming.

Then they came to the urinals, dealing with their private businesses while talking to each other.

"Hey… Did you see anything at the staircase?"

"Ah, yeah. That disgusting director’s guts are getting bigger."

"Shhh! Watch your mouth, don’t let others hear that."

"Sh*t... Just let them hear. I don’t want to work here anymore. That bastard Fukui has turned this company into something like this. If it isn’t because of him, then who else to be blamed?" That man spit indignantly, "Always makes stupid decisions, then blames responsibilities on the others. I heard that it isn’t just one or two days he has been misappropriating the public fund. This company is about to close down… He has joked about it also. Recently, he has just bought a luxury Yokan House and moved in… Such a corrupted insect that makes people lose their jobs."

"Sigh. Even if we know that, the lowest echelon workers like us have no voice."

The two of them had come near to the washing basins. After the sound of washing hands was over, there came a sound of lighti

ng up cigarettes. Each of them took a cigarette then continued their conversation. "Hirata-Kun is the most pathetic one in this story. He always cleans up the mess that asshole creates. I guess it’s 80% that it’s his idea to let Hirata be in charge of laying off people."

"Good guys will not receive good stuff… I’ve heard that Hirata-Kun’s house was destroyed badly in the storm. He and his wife could only move to 3-chome." 

"The heck? Could people live there?"

"Who said no?" The other blew out smoke. "Anyway, the most pathetic thing is his wife who gave him a green hat."

"True, she was flirting with the director at the stairs. Even us, who are just outsiders, couldn't hold that."

The other also blew out smoke. "I heard that Hirata-Kun had given up his career in Tokyo and returned here for Haruko several years ago. Haruko could work here thanks to Hirata-kun running back and forth to beg for help. And now that woman is with that disgusting director for his money. She even does something dirty in front of her husband. It’s nauseous."

Feng Bujue was surprised while listening to these two NPCs’ conversation. This scenario is totally a three-disaster one. Hirata Shuichi, this man didn’t just pathetically suffer! His home got destroyed in the storm; his wife cheated on him with a scumbag; and he would soon be jobless. Moreover, it seemed he didn’t have money either. Giving up his career and youth to exchange for nothing. Moreover, he encountered ghosts daily. This kind of life, he should have killed himself soon.

"Hey... Seems that there’s someone in the next stall." The two of them suddenly lowered their voices.

"We got busted… but who’s there…"

"Crap… When I walked past the office, it seems Hirata-Kun isn't there. Is it…"

Their voices became lowered to the point that Feng Bujue couldn't hear it anymore.

As he was still thinking about how he could get out of this place, he didn’t expect that his problem would be simply solved like that as he lost control of his body again.

"No way! Again?" Feng Bujue thought, "Don’t tell me that this scenario has four or more main clues! Would you please leave me alone?!?"

The answer was yes. Moreover, it was done.

At this time, the narration didn’t play, and the scene in front of Feng Bujue didn’t turn to computer graphics, but a projector screen on the wall. He, at the moment, was in a close room formed by four cement walls without a window, and the main door wasn’t in his sight either.

When he could pull his nerves together, he found that he could see colors again. The strange rumbling noise in his ears became clearer.

At this time, Feng Bujue was wearing a special suit designed for mental disorder patients. Both of his arms were crossed in front of his chest, and the sleeves were tied behind his back. His neck, waist, legs and both of his ankles were tied with special belts, fixing his body on a chair. He could only maintain his sit-up position; if he wanted to move, he would have to wiggle hard.

What discomforted him the most was that his eyelids were taped to his sockets, disabling him from closing his eyes. At this moment, he could feel that his eyes were extremely dry and very irritated.

That strange, rumbling noise was emitted from an old, small movie projector placed on a table behind him. This machine was playing and projecting the black-and-white images onto the wall in front of Feng Bujue’s eyes. And, the last image was the toilet stall where he was last at.

Snap~ Snap

Someone just stretched out one arm and snapped twice in front of Feng Bujue. Feng Bujue shifted his eyes and saw a man, who looked to be about 30 years old, wearing a plaid suit. His plaid suit was old-fashioned, but its material and the seams were delicate which spoke up its luxurious value.

That man was wearing a black pair of glasses with a normal hairstyle and average appearance. His complexion looked nice, but his eyes, which were gazing at Feng Bujue, were full of suspicions.

"Hirata-kun, are you alright?" he asked.

"Who are you?" answered Feng Bujue.

That man changed his countenance, immediately took out a mini flashlight, shone it on Feng Bujue’s eyes and observed.

Feng Bujue’s eyes became more irritated with the light stimulation. "Hey, hey! Don’t do that! My eyes! Who are you? Doctor?"

"I’m Doctor Watanabe. You don’t recognize me?" asked the man.

"Why am I here? What do you want to do?"

"I’ve told you. Doctor, don’t waste your time."

Another voice came from behind Feng Bujue’s back. It was his blind corner. However, the owner of the voice soon came in front of him.

That person was around 50 years old; he had gray hair on both of his temples, outlining a cruel and brave appearance. He was holding a cigarette, which had been half burning.

"Tachibana–Keibu (2), please don’t interrupt me. It’s a very crucial moment right now," said Watanabe.

"Sh*t..." Tachibana ground his cigarette indignantly, then thrust his hands into his coat pockets. His eyes were as bright as torches, looking at Feng Bujue, or staring at Hirata Shuichi to be exact.

"Did you remember anything? Hirata–Kun?" asked Watanabe.

"I..." Feng Bujue didn’t know how to answer him. Currently, he could confirm three things that the all three stories he had just been through were from Hirata Shuichi’s memories. He decided to speak the truth to see what information this NPC would give him. "I was on my way to home, and I saw Kuchisake-Onna…"

As soon as he spoke up, Tachibana yelled, "Damn it! You bastard are trying to fool me, aren’t you?" He then wanted to grab Feng Bujue by his hair, but doctor Watanabe had stopped him.

"Keibu, calm down please!" Watanabe shouted at him to make him stop.

"Keibu..." Feng Bujue had been thinking about his current situation, and now he had a plucky conclusion. "Did I kill somebody?"

"Did I kill somebody?" Tachibana repeated his words then sneered. Soon, his sneer had turned into a loud laughter. "Kiddo, you admitted it now. I still thought that you would try to deny it until the end."

"Doctor Watanabe, are you a psychiatrist?" Feng Bujue turned and asked.

"Yes, it’s true," answered Watanabe. 

"So you must know the Dissociative Identity Disorder?"

Watanabe hesitated for a while before speaking up again, "Of course, I know it."

"What do you mean? This kiddo wants to play lunatic to escape his crime?" Tachibana rose his voice. His flame of anger seemed to be burning his hair.

Feng Bujue ignored him. "I am not Hirata Shuichi."

(1) DOS: DOS /dɒs/ is a family of disk operating systems[1] primarily consisting of MS-DOS and a rebranded version under the name IBM PC DOS which were introduced in 1981, as well as some later compatible systems from other manufacturers: DR-DOS (1988), ROM-DOS (1989), PTS-DOS (1993), and FreeDOS (1998). MS-DOS dominated the x86-based IBM PC compatible market between 1981 and 1995.

(2) Keibu: Japanese word to address a police officer.


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