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墨書 Inktalez
Yuan Yixun remained silent as she turned and walked straight to an empty seat, sitting down heavily with a thud that echoed her long-suppressed emotions.
Before her lay a table piled high with various books, including titles like "Suicide Psychology," "Suicide and Self-Harm," "Suicide Survivor Exploration," and "Understanding Suicide."
Her hands trembled as she picked up one of the books, quickly flipping through the pages. The sound of the paper turning was jarring in the quiet library. She paid no attention to the bewildered glances from her friends, filled with confusion and concern. It was as if she were lost in her own world, frantically searching for something.
Finally, her gaze seemed to be glued to a newspaper article. In an instant, her body stiffened as if struck by a bolt of lightning. She sat there frozen, eyes locked onto the report, filled with shock, anger, and disbelief.
The article read: "Japanese Pervert Kills for Pleasure, Luring Victims with Joint 'Suicide' Plans; Suspected of Writing Murder Scenes as Serialized Novels." A report from Japan Kyodo News on August 11 detailed how a perverted man used suicide websites to brutally murder two men and a woman, dominating the headlines of major Japanese newspapers. What was most shocking was not the victims' tragic fates but the pervert himself—after killing, he repeatedly watched videos of his victims' dying struggles and wrote the process into serialized novels for his own gratification.
Time seemed to stretch on as Yuan Yixun remained engulfed in the overwhelming impact of the article, her expression vacant. At that moment, she vaguely sensed someone quietly sitting up beside her…
An Sifei slowly rose, moving cautiously as if afraid to wake anyone else. She glanced at the three individuals around her who had succumbed to unconsciousness, her eyes flickering with complex emotions—guilt, helplessness, and a hint of resolve. With a deep sigh that felt heavy in the still room, she quietly stood up and walked slowly toward the kitchen.
She reached out with trembling hands to grasp the gas valve, carefully turning off the stove that had begun leaking gas. Then she turned and made her way to the window, straining to push it open so fresh air could flow in.
An Sifei gazed out at the clusters of white Bai Yulan trees, her expression hollow and lost in thought. After a long pause, her lips moved slightly as she murmured to herself, "I'm sorry; I don't want it to be this way either, but I have no other choice." Her voice was soft and ethereal, as if a breeze could carry it away.
Suddenly, An Sifei felt something shift in the air; her body tensed up as she slowly turned around. A look of terror crossed her face as she widened her eyes and slightly parted her lips in surprise. There stood Yuan Yixun behind her, coldly staring with eyes as frigid as ancient ice, seeming to pierce through her very soul.
"Ah! I... actually..." An Sifei's voice trembled as she stuttered in an attempt to explain herself. But before she could finish, Yuan Yixun mercilessly interrupted.
A faint smile crept onto Yuan Yixun's lips—one that appeared friendly yet carried an icy undertone—as she slowly extended her hand. Her voice was calm but hinted at turbulent undercurrents: "Hello, esteemed writer An Sifei. It's truly unfortunate; I just took what you did—only it was merely vitamins."
Hearing these words, An Sifei's face instantly turned ashen, devoid of color, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably. Her lips quivered, yet she could no longer utter a single word, as if her soul had been extracted, leaving only endless fear and despair.
"I'm sorry, I lied. In fact, I have also read the suspense novel 'Mutual Destruction' that Lin Jian mentioned, and I know that the author of this novel is you, An Sifei."
Yuan Yixun's smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of arrogance and fury. She threw her head back and laughed loudly, her laughter filled with mockery and delight. But as she laughed, her gaze suddenly turned icy cold, and her voice dropped ominously: "An outdated suspense novelist, willing to lure underage girls into a collective suicide just to write another good piece."
Yuan Yixun slowly advanced towards An Sifei step by step, each footfall feeling like a stab to An Sifei's heart, deepening her terror.
"You succeeded; that novel really sold well. Do you know? The moment I finished the first chapter, I knew my sister's death must be related to you. After much effort, I finally found the editor of that publishing house, only to learn that you decided to turn this popular novel into a series. So I made a mistake; I called for volunteers for a collective suicide on the forum my sister frequented, and you took the bait..."
An Sifei stumbled backward in fear, her feet feeling as heavy as lead with each difficult step. Her eyes darted around frantically in search of an escape. Suddenly, she spotted a sharp kitchen knife on the cutting board behind her; a glimmer of determination flashed in her eyes. She turned her back and slowly reached for the knife, trying to grasp this last "lifeline."
Just then, a piercing alarm rang out from outside the window, shattering the silence in the room. Moments later, the sound of an approaching ambulance siren grew louder, and voices erupted from downstairs, creating a cacophony that echoed up.
"You are completely finished, An Sifei." Yuan Yixun sighed softly, her voice heavy with endless sorrow and regret. "But Xiaoxuan will never return."
Yuan Yixun slowly turned away and walked towards the door with heavy steps, each movement seeming to drain her of all strength. Her silhouette appeared particularly lonely and desolate under the sunlight.
"Sister," you said in your dreams, "Where did you go?"
The murderer you sought even in death—sister has finally found them for you. She cannot escape; how could there be a collective suicide without one person? She will soon receive her due punishment and will come to join you.
Yuan Yixun walked slowly beneath the sycamore trees as a gentle breeze brushed past her, lifting a few strands of hair from her forehead.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the delicate fragrance of Bai Yulan that lingered in the air, as if the subtle scent were trying to soothe her shattered heart.
The gentle sunlight bathed her clean yet tear-streaked face, and in her young eyes, tears flowed uncontrollably, trickling down her cheeks and falling to the ground drop by drop...
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