Chapter 225: Yama

2022-05-20

When I heard that request, my first thought wasn’t about someone spotting me. What really worried me was if the killer found the tracker on the bowl, would they explode in anger?

“Remember, apart from the bag and the bowl inside it, you’re not allowed to bring anything else. Well, except for the phone in your hand,” the killer said quickly. “I’ll contact you when the time comes. That’s all.”

While they were talking, the killer hung up. I frowned at the phone in my hand. It was an old model, made for seniors. Big text—nothing else worthwhile. I tried calling my own number but couldn’t get through. That’s when I realized the phone was completely cut off from the outside.

Which meant I had to give up everything that could connect me to the outside world. Standing in the courtyard, I glanced around. Just when did the killer plan all this? Why did everything line up so perfectly? Still, this was about Guan Zengbin’s life or death. I couldn’t afford a single mistake.

With that in mind, I started stripping. I’d already wasted too much time, and with a killer who had multiple personalities there’s no telling what they’d do if kept waiting. Then I remembered—I’d dropped my flashlight in the tunnel. Now I couldn’t see a thing.

That was the perfect chance for the killer to get rid of me, but they hadn’t. I still didn’t know which personality was in control, but if I could draw that one out, maybe we could catch the killer without ever having to fight.

But who would we actually be catching? It’s like a body with more than one soul. If we killed the body, every soul inside would die too. But which soul was the real killer? Which ones were innocent?

Even with all the thoughts swirling in my head, my hands didn’t stop moving. Early spring nights were still bitterly cold, but I had no choice. Stripped down totally bare, I shivered like a woodpecker on a log.

I stretched to get the blood flowing, pulled on my backpack, and hopped onto my bike. Heading north along Minfeng Road, the cold bit right through me. The little street was empty of cars, but sanitation workers were already out, sweeping the sidewalks. I couldn’t help thinking how hard they worked.

I hadn’t ridden a bike in ages. Sweat poured down my back. Up ahead, a sanitation woman was sweeping. I had no choice but to pedal like mad past her. But as I went by, she suddenly stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

I frowned and looked back—and that’s when I noticed, this ‘older woman’ wasn’t much older than twenty. A thought struck me—this wasn’t a stranger. This woman was the killer.

“How’s Guan Zengbin?” I asked, staring right at her.

The killer looked around, shrugged off her jacket and tossed it at me. “Cover yourself.”

She looked so disgusted she might puke. I quickly wrapped the jacket around my lower half and said, “If this creeps you out, why make me strip in the first place? That’s just making yourself miserable.”

“I’m not the one who demanded it. It’s Big Brother’s order.” The killer’s voice was gentle and light, almost feminine. I took a closer look and realized she was dressed as a woman. About 1.7 meters tall, under the sanitation jacket was all black—clothes, even her shoes.

Those two things alone told me for sure—she was the killer.

“Big Brother?” I asked.

She didn’t give me a chance to ask more. “Follow me.”

“The bike?” I said.

“Toss it under the bridge.”

She tossed the bike herself under the bridge before I could move.

“Keep up,” she ordered.

Just those few words told me the personality talking to me now was definitely a woman—and one who hated men. Probably the same female personality I’d run into in the sewer. What kind of personality must have grown inside her to show mercy and let Guan Zengbin go?

I tried, “Miss, didn’t we meet before in the sewer?”

She kept walking, not the least bit afraid I’d do anything to her. After all, as long as someone’s life hung in her hands, she knew I wouldn’t dare make a move. But it was odd—if the killer was here, then who had grabbed someone in Xingdong Village? How did they move so fast?

She said, “We’ve met, but not in the sewer.”

Suddenly I understood. In the sewer, I’d only heard her voice. But if I’d seen the killer somewhere else, it could only have been that tunnel. She was the personality that spared my life. Yet now, she seemed icy cold with me.

“So you’re the one who let me go. I even touched your hand, but you didn’t kill me,” I said.

“I didn’t kill you, but you ruined everything for me,” she replied. “I don’t kill innocent people, but if anyone upsets my little sister, I’ll kill them.”

A dark sense of dread welled up in my chest, though I wasn’t sure what exactly I feared. The killer didn’t once look at the bowl behind me. I figured Team Leader Li was probably setting everything in motion by now. If he saw me meeting the killer, he’d move in. But I couldn’t hand over the bowl till I knew for sure Guan Zengbin was safe.

So I pressed on, “Your mother once told you, once you finished painting the twelve zodiac animals, she’d come back. You waited and waited, but she never returned. You never finished, and then your mother died. Your father knew you weren’t his real daughter, so he never treated you kindly. Only your mother truly loved you.”

She stopped dead in the middle of the bridge, not even turning around.

I stopped too, about a meter behind her, and continued, “People don’t just develop multiple personalities out of nowhere. It’s always tied to their childhood. That little girl back then couldn’t accept her mother’s death, so she ran from it. That’s when the second personality began to take shape.”

Her shoulders twitched. I knew I’d hit a nerve.

I kept going, “The girl couldn’t face it, all she could do was escape. No one was there to help, so she split off another personality to bear all her sorrow. That one took on every drop of sadness the others felt. The little girl sank into sleep, and the other took over her body.”

“Her father took their savings and ran, already knowing the girl wasn’t really his. That made him even crueler. When he was angry, he’d hit her. That personality later became the main killer in the murder case.”

The woman turned, her face utterly blank.

“That personality should be called Yama,” I said. “One personality read the truth of the past in her father’s diary, and now the little girl’s real self began waking up again. She was fifteen, but her mind was stuck at five.”

“She doesn’t remember anything except, if she can finish painting all twelve zodiac animals, maybe her mom will come back.” I kept my voice low as I watched the killer’s cold, expressionless face. “But the original bowl was lost years ago. The little girl couldn’t find it—she was frantic. That’s when you showed up, the helpful big sister, comforting her and promising she’d find the twelve bowls someday.”

Her face finally changed a little. Her lips trembled, like she was whispering to herself.

I pressed on. “But three personalities weren’t enough. You needed someone wise to take charge—so a new one appeared. A middle-aged man, a self-taught expert in psychology. He became responsible for tracking down the twelve bowls.”

“But here’s the thing.” I shook my head. “A personality’s strength depends on how strong his personality is. Yama was the second one to appear. He knew every secret and carried all the pain. Hurt and sorrow turned him into the dominant personality—he started developing a thirst for murder. Lately, you all couldn’t hold him back. In that sewer, you could’ve just run, but you stabbed Zhao Mingkun anyway. That made things worse. The bowl you planned to buy became a bowl you had to kill for.”

Suddenly, the woman let out a cold, harsh laugh.

I went on, “Now you have all twelve bowls. It’s time to let the little girl out. She’s the true host of this body—you can’t let her sleep forever. I know the English spell you left behind was only meant to make Yama sleep!”

The woman’s expression went blank. She bit her hand like a scared little girl, looking around nervously as if terrified to be alone. My heart leapt—this had to be the little girl’s personality surfacing. Maybe I could get her to tell me where Guan Zengbin was.

I stepped closer, but in that moment the killer’s hand clamped tight around my throat.

A twisted mask of cruelty twisted their face. In a hoarse, menacing voice, they snarled, “Don’t try to fool anyone. This body belongs to me too, and I don’t give a damn about some stupid bowl. They can’t suppress me.”

“After all, everyone in this world has a moment when they want to kill. Who says any of these people are good?”

I was starting to suffocate.