Chapter 232: Twelve Hours

May 20, 2022.

Xiao Liu led me towards the exit, our footsteps echoing through the empty underground. It looked like an abandoned underground warehouse, but at that moment, I didn’t care what kind of place it was— I just wanted to get out. Being cut off from the world is a loneliness no modern person can really endure.

We finally wound our way through the twisty tunnels and stepped outside. A sliver of early morning sunlight poured in from the cave’s mouth. Off in the distance, the newborn sun glowed faintly, casting just a touch of light but not a lick of warmth. A chilly breeze swept away what little warmth lingered, and I couldn’t help but shiver.

From here, I could see a stretch of empty fields—nothing but bare earth with no farmers around. Farther away, I spotted the same street I’d walked through before dawn, and there was last night’s bridge in the distance. I wondered if my bicycle was still stashed underneath.

A few cars drove straight into the field. Xiao Liu opened a door for me. My clothes were lying on the back seat, just as I’d left them.

I dove into the car in a hurry and threw on my clothes. My phone was still in my shirt pocket, and I dug it out immediately. I’ve never been someone with lots of friends—barely ever call or text anyone—so the only numbers on my phone were those I worked with in the Special Investigation Team. For that reason, I never bothered setting a lock screen.

I checked my texts and found, aside from the daily messages from the service center, just a few messages from Mary. Flipping through, I realized my sent box didn’t have a message to Xiao Liu. That meant either someone sent and deleted the message, or someone sent a message using my number.

Using a fake base station, someone can spoof any number to send messages—though the range is only about a kilometer. If that was the case, nobody could call the number back. Plus, my clothes had clearly been neatly arranged for me—somebody used my phone to text Xiao Liu.

If someone could send a text to Xiao Liu from my phone, maybe they sent other messages as well. Maybe they tried to steal information from the Special Investigation Team using my identity. But if so, who would do that? Could it be Zhao Mingkun?

Thinking about all this, I dialed Gu Chen’s number.

“Wu Meng? How’s it going on your end?” Gu Chen answered after a few rings.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Have you found the underground space in Xingdong Village yet? Is Guan Zengbin alright?”

Gu Chen went quiet for a moment before finally replying, “Wu Meng, weren’t you the one who texted me that Guan Zengbin had already been rescued? You told us to pull everyone back. Why are you asking me now where Guan Zengbin is?”

Hearing his answer, my heart sank. If it had been to his advantage, and if the Uncle Personality knew where Guan Zengbin was, there’s no way he wouldn’t have said. So who sent that message? Where was Guan Zengbin?

“Where are you now?” I asked.

“Halfway there,” Gu Chen replied.

“Fill up the tank and get back to Xingdong Village as fast as you can,” I said, “We need to check the place immediately. Guan Zengbin isn’t with me. Someone used my phone to send a message, and I have no idea who.”

I heard Gu Chen relaying my instructions on the other side: “Everyone, stop at the next gas station and fill up. We need to get back to Xingdong Village right away. Thanks, everyone. Take turns at the wheel if you’re tired, but keep up the pace.”

Gu Chen got back on with me: “What about you? What’s your next move?”

“I’m heading to Xingdong Village right now,” I told him. “We’ll meet up there. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“Got it,” Gu Chen replied.

After hanging up, I stepped out of the car. “Where’s the killer?”

“Over here.”

The killer now wore a hood. Sometimes, this is done so the killer can’t remember what their captors look like; other times, it’s to prevent outsiders from taking incriminating pictures. Honestly, the privacy excuse is just a cover—there are things the public doesn’t need to know.

I pulled the hood off the killer’s head. He looked at me, confused. I said quickly, “You might not know where Ze left Guan Zengbin, but you have to know about the underground space.”

“I honestly don’t know,” the killer said.

I frowned. “The villagers in Xingdong Village said they often hear a woman crying up on the mountain at night. That’s probably Ze, right?”

The killer didn’t confirm or deny.

“You all wore black so you wouldn’t be seen at night,” I pressed on. “Dressed in black, you’d blend into the darkness, making it look like just a single head floating there. Someone saw this and thought Ze was a ghost, didn’t they? That would mean the entrance is on the mountain!”

The killer looked at me and said, “I really don’t know. Five years ago, it was the same. Even after the other personalities were gone, it was still like this. The reason I wanted to control this body alone was because of that. I hated not knowing what was happening. I hated losing hours at a time without any idea what ‘we’ had done.”

Held firm by two people, the killer still struggled to look at me, his eyes bloodshot. “If I hadn’t merged all the personalities together, I’d never know what the others did. But even now, I still lose time. There are hours every day I don’t know who’s in control. I get that everyone has their secrets, that’s only natural.”

“But this is a body we all share!” His voice was rough, low. “They shouldn’t be able to keep things from me.”

Curiosity is part of human nature. Even though he shared a body and knew almost everything the body did, there were still times he had no idea what had happened. That might be why he was so determined to get rid of all the other personalities except for himself.

But who was the one hiding things—was it the Host Personality, the little girl, Ze, or Yama?

From what the villagers described, this hidden personality seemed to be female, always crying by the tombstone. She must be connected to whoever’s buried there.

“You really can’t feel the others anymore?” I asked. “Are you sure there’s not a personality hidden deeper than you realize?”

At this, the killer was clearly shaken. After a moment, he answered, “That’s impossible. I was the first to realize there were multiple personalities in this body, and the first to integrate them. I was the one who got them to take turns coming out. There are no others. It’s just me now!”

I tapped my forehead, thinking. If even the Uncle Personality didn’t know where the underground space was, how could we figure it out? What had Ze been up to underground? The uncle said he wasn’t the one writing those stories—so which personality had done it?

I paced back and forth, trying to make sense of it all, but the answer wouldn’t come.

I called out to Xiao Liu, “I have to take the killer to Xingdong Village, even if he’s not the one in control. He’ll still remember something. After all, five years ago, he went looking for Wu Xiufen—the mother of this body. Get us a car. You need to look into who went into the courtyard after I left.”

Xiao Liu looked at me, his face unreadable.

I said, “I know—whoever catches the killer gets to stay in Dongxing City. You caught the killer, and you’re the one who saved me, so I owe you. That’s fair. Go do what I asked.”

Xiao Liu shook his head. “That’s not it. Guan Zengbin’s still in danger. I’m not about to argue with you about who gets credit right now. But, there’s something… eh, never mind. I’ll take care of it. You—get a car and drive Captain Wu to Xingdong Village. Call me if anything happens on the way.”

“Understood.”

Xiao Liu nodded and gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. “Don’t be so tense. Don’t run yourself ragged. Giving in to fear or anxiety is the first step toward failure. Just keep moving forward, even if it’s one day at a time. Understand? When this case is over, buy me a lottery ticket, alright?”

I looked over at Xiao Liu. It felt like I was seeing the old Xiao Liu again. There was something hidden in his words, but I didn’t have time to figure it out.

We climbed into the car. I crawled into the back, with the killer stuck in the middle, unable to run. Two more agents sat up front, started the engine, and headed for Xingdong Village.

I noticed Yama’s diary sitting on the dashboard. Xiao Liu must’ve read through it on the way here. I wanted to know what happened fifteen years ago, but with the killer right there, I decided to leave it be. For now, Guan Zengbin was worry enough.

From nine last night to eight this morning, nearly twelve hours had passed. In that time, Guan Zengbin hadn’t eaten or drunk a thing. If she was even still alive now, I could only imagine what state she’d be in.

Alone. Afraid. Or maybe completely hopeless.

Guan Zengbin, who was afraid of the dark, had already spent twelve hours in the darkness—alone. Whoever used my phone to send that message might have had twelve hours to do who knows what to her.

I just didn’t know.

But one thing I did know—as long as there was a sliver of hope, I couldn’t give up. I had to find her and bring her back safe. No matter what, I would bring her back.