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墨書 Inktalez
Quickly, the man found a Massage Chair on a second-hand store's website. The image on the screen showed a deep black Massage Chair, with smooth lines and wide, sturdy armrests. Under the light, it even revealed a hint of dark red trim, exuding a subtle yet stable aura. Although there were some signs of age visible on the surface—certain areas of the leather slightly faded and a few small creases along the edge of the seat—the overall condition looked quite well-maintained, with no obvious damage or peeling.
He stared at the product page, scrolling down to examine the features of this Massage Chair—
"Multi-stage simulated massage, deep tissue lumbar support, leg air pressure relaxation, full-body heating function…"
It had all the features one could expect! It even boasted being a "premium flagship model," originally priced at NT$ 39,800, and now the second-hand price was…
NT$ 5,888.
"Oh my God, this price… isn’t this a steal?"
His heart raced suddenly, his eyes widening slightly as his finger paused on the screen. This price felt like a gift from above; just over five thousand, much lower than he had anticipated. Just the heating function alone was worth the price! He could almost envision how it would look when this chair was moved into his home. After work, he could simply lie back and enjoy full-body relaxation, banishing all his back pain…
But his rationality wasn’t completely swept away by this price. A moment later, a thread of caution crept in—
"Wait a minute, this price is too low."
A high-end Massage Chair originally priced at nearly forty thousand now going for only NT$ 5,888 was an astonishing drop. Was there something… really wrong with it?
He began to scroll through the Seller's description to see if there were any "hidden issues." Mechanical faults? Leather damage? Malfunctioning features? But nothing was mentioned in the description; the Seller simply stated: "Used for two years, in good condition, selling cheap due to moving, negotiable."
"Two years? Selling it after just two years?"
The man frowned. This kind of item should theoretically last for several years. Could it be… that this chair actually had some hidden problems? Or was the Seller’s reason for moving just an excuse? Perhaps there was something strange about this chair that made them want to get rid of it quickly?
His fingertips lightly tapped on his phone screen as he fell into a brief hesitation. "The price is so good, but it raises suspicion—could this be a trap?"
But soon enough, his rationality was defeated by those two words: "cheap."
**What does it matter? Over five thousand, I might as well buy it and take a look, right?** If there are minor issues, I can always get it repaired. It’s not like I’m really going to buy a **haunted Massage Chair**, right?
The man gritted his teeth and decisively pressed the "Contact Seller" button, preparing to discuss the transaction details.
He stared at his phone screen, pondering for a moment, then quickly typed out a message in a straightforward tone:
**"What is the condition of this Massage Chair? Is the mechanism functioning properly? Are there any broken parts or areas that need repair?"**
After sending the message, he leaned back on the sofa, unconsciously tapping his fingers lightly on the back of his phone, feeling a bit anxious. **It’s so cheap; it just feels suspicious.** Usually, sellers of such low-priced items only say nice things, hiding problems in the details, waiting for buyers to discover the pitfalls once they take it home.
However, to his surprise, not long after he sent the message, he received a reply so quickly that it made him wonder if the seller had been staring at their phone.
**"Hello, this Massage Chair is in great condition; all functions are working properly with no faults. It has been well maintained during use. I’m selling it because I don’t have enough space at home; there are absolutely no issues."**
**This response sounds too perfect.**
The man frowned and coldly chuckled to himself, thinking this was just standard seller talk. Just these few sentences were not enough to put his mind at ease. He leaned back against the sofa, staring at his phone screen, contemplating how to further test the seller's sincerity.
Just as he was about to ask for more details, the seller sent another message—
**"If you’re worried, you can come to my shop to try it out first. Once you confirm there are no issues, you can decide whether to buy it and take it home right away."**
The man paused for a moment, a glimmer of interest flashing in his eyes. This was… somewhat sincere.
**Don’t most sellers just want to get rid of their stock quickly? Who would willingly let someone try it out?** If the seller was willing to let him experience it on-site, that at least indicated that this Massage Chair probably wasn’t completely useless scrap metal; otherwise, wouldn’t letting buyers try it out just invite trouble?
He stroked his chin thoughtfully and considered that this proposal was indeed good. At least he could personally verify the product and wouldn’t be blindly deceived by photos or written descriptions. **Besides, his back still ached faintly; having a chance to try lying down wouldn’t be a loss.**
He quickly replied to the other party:
"Okay, where is the store? I'll find a time to check it out."
After sending the message, he stared at the screen, waiting for the Seller's address. He thought to himself that this Massage Chair might really be a possibility.
A few days later, at the agreed time, Lin Zhao Cheng started his car and slowly drove toward the location arranged with the Seller. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he focused intently on the navigation, following the directions. The streets of the city were still familiar, bustling with traffic and pedestrians rushing across the road at every traffic light. These sights were reassuring; after all, this was his daily environment—orderly and predictable, with little chance of accidents.
However, as he drove further away, the scenery alongside the road began to feel unfamiliar. Tall buildings gradually gave way to shorter houses, and the bright lights of shops became sparse, replaced by quiet residences and small factories. The distance between homes increased, and he occasionally spotted a few metal shacks cluttered with unknown debris outside. The streetlights became fewer, casting an eerie quiet over the entire road.
Lin Zhao Cheng couldn't help but furrow his brow. Although he had known that such prices wouldn't appear in large appliance stores in the city center, he hadn't expected the location to be this remote. He slowed down and scanned the surroundings, realizing there were hardly any houses left. The buildings along the way looked old, with some storefronts seemingly abandoned for a long time, their doors adorned with weathered "For Rent" signs.
"How did I end up so far...?"
He glanced at the navigation and saw that his destination was still less than five kilometers away. Although this place no longer resembled a typical shopping area, upon reflection, such prices indeed seemed unlikely to come from legitimate big-box retailers. It must be some kind of small second-hand appliance shop or a private warehouse-style market using low prices to attract buyers like him.
"Well... that makes sense," he reassured himself slightly as he continued into this quiet suburb. Though a hint of doubt lingered in his mind, he didn’t truly feel afraid. After all, he was just going to look at a Massage Chair; it shouldn't be anything too serious. Still... why did this place increasingly resemble scenes from movies where strange events occur?
He shook his head to dispel these thoughts and focused on the road ahead. In just a few minutes, he would finally see what that "store" looked like.
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