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墨書 Inktalez
The suppressed voice finally erupted, and the laughter echoed eerily in the empty underground space. The Murderer slowly stood up, still facing away from me. His voice sounded like a torn rag: "What do I want? What I want is this body!"
As he spoke, he swept his arm across the table, sending all the bowls crashing to the ground.
The crisp sound of shattering filled the air as each bowl broke apart, scattering fragments everywhere. I could even feel the rush of air as the shards flew past my legs. He acted like a madman, knocking all the bowls to the floor and relentlessly stomping on them.
With each crunching sound, those white bowls adorned with colorful Twelve Zodiac Signs were crushed into smaller pieces, as if this was the only way for him to vent his anger. It seemed as though these bowls bore a grudge against him.
I began to understand his intent, but there were still many things I couldn't grasp.
"Ah!" he screamed wildly, his voice so loud it made my eardrums ache. It seemed he wanted to release all his emotions; he shouted until his face turned red and he could no longer make a sound, finally closing his mouth.
Veins bulged on his forehead, completely at odds with the Gentle Uncle from before. He gasped for breath and said, "Ah, that feels good. You must have never experienced this feeling; you wouldn't understand. The world has quieted down; everything is under my control."
This was an expression of Survival After Disaster, but it was already seven o'clock. Guan Zengbin was in danger—very much so. I could vividly imagine a sharp knife piercing Guan Zengbin's body, bright red blood staining the entire Iron Bed, Guan Zengbin's body limp and slumped against the bed. All of this painted a picture of death, filled with pain and helplessness.
I spoke up: "I don't care what you've gained; just give me the address."
The uncle waved his hand dismissively and said, "It wasn't me who took your teammate; it was Ze. Do you understand? We men shouldn't see that woman's naked body; I don't care about it, but Yan Wang was still asleep at that time."
A bad premonition arose in my heart. Sometimes being too clever isn't a good thing. This uncle wanted this body; a fool might coexist with others, but a smart person would find it hard to allow anyone else's existence.
I trembled as I asked, "Are you saying that the other personalities have disappeared? Now it's just you left?"
He nodded heavily and then sat down at the table, slowly saying, "Yes."
My heart sank as if I had lost something most precious in life. My legs went weak, and I found myself kneeling on the ground. My mind was chaotic; despite my efforts to calm myself and tell myself that Gu Chen might have rescued Guan Zengbin, I couldn't even believe it myself.
I didn't want to think about anything or do anything; I felt like everything I had done was in vain. Even though I knew that those who entered this line of work had long since put their lives on the line, we could be killed by the twisted Murderer at any moment or face retaliation from his accomplices. Many people might wish for our deaths.
But when faced with the Separation of Life and Death, I deeply realized that death is not simply two characters. Behind these two characters are countless departed souls, each one a fading spirit and a heart filled with pain.
While I was engulfed in sorrow, the Murderer before me seemed remarkably at ease. "From the moment I was born, I have been thinking about how to make the other personalities within me disappear. So I began to self-study psychology and researched treatment methods for Multiple Personality Disorder."
My mind was in chaos, unable to absorb anything.
"I now realize that Multiple Personality Disorder is fundamentally difficult to cure. Medically, there is no way to make these personalities disappear because it involves ethical issues. Even if you are not the Main Personality, does that mean the other personalities are not human? No! They are living beings too, capable of feeling joy and sorrow, possessing desires and emotions!"
The Murderer's voice resonated powerfully, each word reaching my ears.
"Therefore, the medical approach to treatment is merely to integrate all the personalities, allowing them to become aware of each other's existence and achieve a balance, eliminating those violent personalities or putting them into a dormant state."
After a pause, the Murderer continued, "It's like a personality akin to Yama; making it disappear poses no ethical dilemma. After all, killing must be paid for with life; that's a matter of justice. The problem arises when I consider that if I actively seek treatment at a hospital, the outcome may not be better than my own attempts to integrate these personalities."
Tears slowly dripped from my eyes onto the ground, yet my heart felt an unusual calmness. I didn't know if I was truly sad; all I wanted at that moment was to sleep.
The Murderer glanced at me and said, "Thus, as the first person to realize I had Multiple Personality Disorder, I began to communicate with the other personalities. You know, before I emerged, their lives were chaotic. These personalities were unaware of each other's existence and thought they were suffering from mental illness."
After a moment of silence, the Murderer added, "However, Multiple Personality Disorder itself can be considered a mental illness; more accurately, it's a psychological disorder. I simply couldn't bear it when one moment I was reading a book and the next I found myself partying in a bar. I couldn't stand it when I was enjoying fine dining only to suddenly be beating up someone I didn't even know."
The Murderer pointed at himself. "I must admit that I'm afraid of death. But which normal, highly intelligent person isn't afraid of dying?"
"In the beginning, all I wanted was for Yama to disappear because I didn't know when my last supper would be. I didn't want to be killed or spend my life in prison. But later on, I realized that if I could make Yama disappear, why not eliminate the others as well?"
I looked up at the Murderer and said calmly, "So you intend to kill everyone?"
The Murderer chuckled coldly several times before responding, "Kill? Do you think the judicial system would agree with your reasoning? Is killing off your other personalities considered murder? The whole world would probably disagree with that notion."
I replied, "But you have killed eight people; the other personalities within you have vanished, leaving only you. Do you think this matter can end like this? Do you really believe you can escape legal consequences?"
Murderer shrugged and brushed the dirt off himself before saying, "So, five years ago, I started recording every aspect of my life with a camera. You know, it's hard to fake Multiple Personality. Because every time I become someone else, everything changes—your way of speaking, your tone, your habitual actions—all of it transforms completely into another person, and that’s something difficult to disguise."
I furrowed my brow, realizing that this man across from me had been planning this for five years.
"So it wasn't about helping Main Personality find some lost childhood; you never wanted to help Main Personality escape from their predicament. From the very beginning, you were only thinking about yourself, weren't you?" I looked at Murderer, speaking each word deliberately. "You went through so much trouble to obtain Twelve Bowls, just waiting for this moment, right? There’s nothing more tragic than shattered hope. I think Main Personality will probably never appear again."
Murderer nodded and then said, "They only experience pain in this world. Rather than living in such suffering, it would be better to just die. Main Personality, trapped for fifteen years over something that can never happen, suffering immense pain and sorrow—inevitably leads to destruction. Even Ze has played the role of the big sister for fifteen years; they are all tired."
I listened to Murderer’s heartfelt conversation and heard more of a sense of relief and liberation in his words. It felt like a weary traveler finally returning home, as if they could finally lie down on a comfortable bed.
"Even if they are Alive and struggling, whether they want to disappear or sleep is their choice. Who gave you the right to kill them all?" I said. "Even if Yan Wang deserves punishment for his actions in pursuit of Twelve Bowls, what about Ze? What about Main Personality? Don’t forget—it was he who created you."
Upon hearing my words, Murderer burst into laughter and said, "In court, I could easily say they asked me to do this—they wanted to disappear. But even if I made them vanish, what could you do about it? Is there a law that clearly states that Multiple Personality cannot kill the other Personality within?"
I fell silent; indeed, there was no such provision.
"Because Main Personality created me, I must make him disappear. Do you understand? You are not one of us. Can you bear to watch as she finishes drawing the sketches for Twelve Bowls, only to find that her eagerly awaited mother never appears? If it comes to that moment, then you'll truly understand what real disappointment and sorrow are."
Murderer glared at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he said, "I can't bear to see that, so I can't let her finish drawing. Hope is always good, but when hope leads to disappointment that's too great—it can destroy a person. She was meant to disappear; I can't let her feel despair before she dies."
"You don't understand anything; you know nothing." Murderer grew increasingly agitated, tears welling up in his eyes. "Just like those who are Intersex Person! We are simply different from others; we are just unique enough to be seen as outcasts—does that mean we don't deserve to live in this world?"
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