The Bizarre Detective Agency Chapter 37

Stepping over a pile of charcoal, Lu Li descended a few flights of steps and reached the basement floor. His oil lantern, held high, pushed back the oppressive gloom. The basement, like the upper floors, bore the marks of the fire, but the damage here wasn't as severe as it was upstairs. Some objects had retained their shape, such as the charred head of a deer and a soot-stained axe hanging on the stone wall.

In the corners and at the foot of the stairs, debris had melted into shapeless black masses, impossible to identify.

Perhaps this room once served as the library's storeroom.

An opening in the far wall of the basement marked a doorway. Most of the door had burned away; what remained clung to the frame like a nibbled leaf. The space beyond appeared to be a rest area. In the corner stood the charred frame of a single bed and a wardrobe. They were the only things in the basement that were still somewhat recognizable.

The fire damage was less severe in the rest area, and he thought that perhaps some books might have survived.

As he approached the small room, Lu Li found himself thinking. If that poor soul from the steps had stayed in this room, he might have had a chance to survive... Then again, maybe not.

The light from the lantern spilled into the room, illuminating three soot-blackened walls. The light seemed to be swallowed by them, vanishing without a trace.

Lu Li hesitated for a moment at the entrance, but then, shaking off his apprehension, he stepped inside. His luck couldn't be so bad that he'd run into ghosts everywhere he went. Or perhaps Belfast hadn't yet plunged so deep into chaos that ghosts roamed every corner.

Besides, it was still daytime.

At that moment, heavy footsteps, accompanied by a hollow echo and a palpable pressure, emanated from the darkness beyond the lantern's light. The sound was coming from above, from the stairs. Something was descending into the basement.

"Tsk," Lu Li clicked his tongue softly.

He drew the Spirit Gun without a second thought, not to aim, but to sense the malevolent aura he knew must be near.

Regret, resentment, sorrow, hatred, despair... A nauseating swirl of dark emotions wrapped around Lu Li, as if trying to consume him, to stain him with their repulsive hues. Just like before, he felt the familiar sensation of being watched, and goosebumps prickled his skin against his will. But to his surprise, he didn't feel a single, malevolent gaze directed at him this time.

Previously, whenever he gripped the gun, Lu Li had invariably felt a multitude of malicious whispers and jealous glares around him. But now, they were all gone.

Did that mean... Lu Li raised his eyes, peering into the thick darkness. He couldn't see anything, but he could sense it: a dark, indescribable human silhouette, blacker than the darkness itself, was slowly descending the stairs.

It was a ghost.

And it was then that Lu Li remembered: he hadn't closed the door when he'd come down.

The instant he realized this, Lu Li released his grip on the Spirit Gun, letting it drop back into its holster. At the same time, he snuffed out the lantern and, in the final flicker of light, his gaze swept across the room, lingering on the wardrobe.

He grabbed the wardrobe's handle, deliberately leaving a smudge on the dusty surface. But just as he was about to climb inside, he froze, listening intently, then glanced back.

A profound darkness enveloped him. The lantern was completely out. That wasn't what mattered. What alarmed Lu Li was the silence—the footsteps had stopped.

He had last heard them somewhere near the entrance.

The human silhouette had vanished, and Lu Li couldn't determine where it was now. Perhaps it had frozen on the stairs, or perhaps... it was standing right behind him.

He couldn't touch the Spirit Gun now. The Spirit Gun was a conduit, operating on a principle of equal exchange. It allowed the wielder to sense and harm a ghost, but in return, it allowed the ghost to sense and harm the wielder.

In the oppressive darkness, Lu Li acted on his plan and found himself a hiding spot.

His breathing and heartbeat seemed to echo in the tight, enclosed space. Lu Li gradually steadied his breathing and quieted the frantic beating of his heart.

A dead silence lasted for about fifteen seconds before it was shattered by a rough, grating sound.

It was right beside him.

The half-burnt door to the rest area had creaked open.

Screeeak...

Thump... Thump... Thump...

An icy chill preceded the footsteps as they neared the doorway. A human silhouette loomed vaguely in the opening. Its icy, malevolent presence radiated outwards.

Thump... Thump... Thump...

The footsteps resumed, echoing in the cramped room. The ghost, seemingly unaware of Lu Li's presence, passed through. The sound of its steps faded into the distance, then vanished completely.

It worked... The tension in Lu Li's body eased slightly. He exhaled slowly and deeply.

The exhale was quiet, but not silent.

And in that same instant, the footsteps returned. They were back in the room! The dark silhouette hadn't left at all. It was standing right by the wardrobe.

An invisible pressure bore down on Lu Li. Before he could react, the dark silhouette raised an arm and reached for the wardrobe.

The silhouette's movements were slow, but unstoppable. Its outstretched hand met no resistance. The charred wardrobe door simply disintegrated, crumbling into dust.

Its entire arm plunged deep into the wardrobe.

A moment later, the dark silhouette slowly withdrew its arm and looked down. Its hand was empty.

The dark figure tilted its head at an unnatural angle, and a hoarse, low whisper escaped its throat. Whatever it was looking for, it seemed to lose interest. The silhouette drifted slowly out of the room.

The footsteps gradually grew distant, then turned into a hollow echo, and finally disappeared.

Five seconds passed. Then fifteen. Thirty. This time, Lu Li remained motionless, waiting long after the sounds had faded, making absolutely certain the ghost was gone for good.

A figure slowly crawled out from under the charred bed.

The wardrobe was the most obvious hiding place, and Lu Li had no intention of making such a foolish mistake. But the small room offered only two possible hiding spots: the wardrobe and the space under the bed. His only option was to make one a decoy and conceal himself in the other.

It seemed to have worked.

Covered in black soot, Lu Li looked toward the door of the rest area. Anxiety flickered in his eyes. He wasn't sure the ghost wasn't lying in wait for him out in the storeroom, and retreating the way he came seemed like a terrible idea.

But he had no choice.

Bending down, he retrieved the oil lantern from under the bed, took a deep breath, and, holding it, stepped out of the rest area.

In the impenetrable darkness, Lu Li could only navigate by the faint light filtering down from the stairwell.

After taking a few steps in the dark, he inevitably stepped on some debris, producing a soft but distinct crunch.

Thump.

As if in response, heavy footsteps sounded from a corner.

Without a moment's hesitation, Lu Li struck a match he'd held ready. In the brief, flickering flare, he launched himself toward the stairs, an arrow loosed from a bow, racing for the sliver of light above!

Bursting out into the corridor, Lu Li grabbed the heavy iron door and slammed it shut with all his might.

SLAM!

The impact sent dust and debris raining down from the ceiling of the dilapidated corridor.

The iron door leading to the basement was tightly shut.