An unseen middle-aged man sat stiffly and motionlessly on the edge of Yang Jian's bed, holding a newspaper in his hand, unmoving as if he were genuinely engrossed in the news on the pages. Everything seemed quite normal and without any oddities.
However, the dimness of the room was utterly unsuitable for reading the paper. Moreover, this individual had maintained the same posture from the time Yang Jian went online until now, which would be impossible for an ordinary person. The only change was that he had moved from the living room sofa to the bedside, shifting from a distance to close proximity.
This reduction in distance did not bring a sense of relief but rather an inexplicable threat and dread. Why would his father sit next to him to read the paper for no apparent reason? Was this a habit of his before?
Glancing at the portrait hanging on the cabinet in the room and listening to Liu Xiaoyu's urgent prompting on the phone, Yang Jian realized that something was amiss. If the file Liu Xiaoyu mentioned was genuine, then was this person still his father?
It seemed like it was... yet it didn't. Had his father truly died in a car accident when he was a child? Yang Jian's mind clearly recognized this person as his father, everything appeared so natural, without a hint of falsehood.
"Even so, it's still very wrong..."
Yang Jian immediately retracted his hand, refraining from lifting the newspaper that obscured the man's face. Instead, he swiftly grabbed his phone, stood up abruptly, and retreated, distancing himself from the man reading the paper.
He questioned whether it was his memory that was affected or if everything before him was just a dream, not real. Or perhaps, there was something strange about the entire residential building?
"Regardless, I'll leave first and figure out what's going on later," Yang Jian couldn't be certain if the problem was with himself, his father, or the surroundings.
He cautiously retreated from the room to the living room without disturbing his father reading the paper. As he left the room, he curiously tried to discern the man's features. However, before he could get a clear look, he noticed a corner of the newspaper was a ghastly red, as if soaked in blood, the deep crimson seemingly about to drip like blood.
A newspaper stained with blood!
Would a normal person read such a newspaper?
Yang Jian's eyes narrowed, and at this moment, he completely believed that Liu Xiaoyu was telling the truth. His father had indeed died in a car accident when he was in elementary school, and the file she had was genuine. Thus, the so-called father before him could not possibly exist because the dead do not resurrect.
If his father did not exist, then the man sitting on the bed reading the newspaper could only be one thing – a ghost.
His heart trembled instantly.
When did this ghost infiltrate his home, when did it appear in the house, and when was his memory altered?
Or had he been living with this ghost for years without realizing it?
If it weren't for Liu Xiaoyu's call, would he never have awakened?
Yang Jian felt a chill as he pondered these thoughts.
The moment he stepped out of the room, the man reading the paper suddenly moved. His head turned at an uncanny speed towards Yang Jian, who recoiled in fear.
This man... had no face, no features, only a layer of flesh.
"Go," Yang Jian growled inwardly and without hesitation, he turned and fled.
He was now completely certain.
This man was a ghost.
However, the moment he turned his head, everything went black as if he had collided with something.
A newspaper...
Sticky, foul-smelling, as if saturated with copious amounts of blood.
The newspaper was plastered onto his face, sticking tightly like a second skin. He instinctively tried to tear it off, but the blood-stained newspaper seemed to have transformed into his own flesh, causing immense pain on his face, and it could not be easily torn off.
"Has this ghost started attacking me?" Yang Jian immediately realized this.
He had already encountered two vicious ghost attacks at school before.
"The only thing that can counter a ghost is another ghost..."
He gritted his teeth, and suddenly an eye on the back of his hand tore through the flesh, emitting a faint red light.
With this eye, when he tried to tear off the newspaper covering his face, it had an effect.
The newspaper gradually detached from his face, like a piece of medicated plaster being slowly peeled off.
However, at this moment, the ghost did not seem willing to let him go so easily.
Yang Jian felt the ghost approaching, as if pulling the newspaper from behind.
A terrifying force was transmitted.
The newspaper wrapped around his face shrank again, tightly adhering to his face, and a strong sense of suffocation and dizziness quickly came.
If this continued, he would not be killed by the ghost but would be suffocated to death by this eerie newspaper.
"Since you want to play, then I'll play with you. You're a ghost, but I'm not human either," Yang Jian growled like a beast from his throat.
Suddenly, two red eyes sprouted on his face.
The newspaper where the eyes emerged immediately made a tearing sound, like paper being ripped, and was torn open.
The moment the newspaper was torn open, the terrifying pulling force behind him immediately weakened.
"Again," Yang Jian gritted his teeth inwardly.
The power of the eyes could not be used frequently; each use brought him closer to death. But he had no choice; without borrowing the power of the ghost within him, he would die now.
Another eye emerged on his forehead.
"Sssshh!"
The blood-stained newspaper on his forehead was torn open again.
The pulling force behind him weakened once more, and the feeling of suffocation and dizziness rapidly faded.
"Continue."
Yang Jian knew that the power of the ghost within him was still insufficient.
A fifth eye sprouted on his neck.
A slit opened where the eye was choking his neck.
At this moment, with a forceful motion from Yang Jian, the newspaper wrapped around his face was instantly torn to shreds due to the numerous tears.
Suffocation and stuffiness completely disappeared.
Large amounts of air rushed in.
Yang Jian's face had grown a total of four eyes, emitting a faint red light.
He turned his head to look back.
But there was no one behind him, only the torn newspapers stained with blood scattered on the ground.
"Leave this place."
Yang Jian's heart pounded with fear, and he dared not stay long. He left immediately without taking anything and quickly left the house.
Not long after he left, the person who had been in the room he previously occupied walked out.
This person picked up the torn and scattered newspapers from the ground and pieced them back together.
Soon, the newspaper returned to its original state, still stained with bright red blood, but now with the outline of a face on the blood-red newspaper.
That face was... Yang Jian's.
This person picked up the newspaper, then nonchalantly walked to the nearby sofa, sat down, and continued to raise his arm, motionlessly reading the newspaper in front of him, in the same posture as before.
Several hours later.
Suddenly, this person moved.
He slowly lowered his arm; he was no longer without facial features or a face.
Now, he displayed the appearance of Yang Jian.
However, on this "Yang Jian's" face, where the eyes had grown before, there were blank spaces, as if a clear photograph had been crudely cut in several places.
The face was not perfect...