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墨書 Inktalez
The bus stop is just a stone's throw away from Rayal's home, a short five-minute walk. The surrounding environment is both familiar and welcoming to him, with low-rise residential buildings nestled among lush greenery in the neighborhood, and the joyful sounds of children playing in the playground below can be heard from time to time.
With a hint of weariness, Rayal automatically stopped in front of the familiar door. He took out the key from his pocket, turned it lightly, and the door lock made a "click" sound, signaling his return home. Upon entering, the warmth and tranquility of home immediately greeted him, causing him to let go of the rush and tension from the journey.
Rayal Almost mechanically shed the cumbersome formalities - the suit jacket that had bound him all day was casually tossed onto the coat rack, followed by the shoes that had encased his feet all day, kicked haphazardly to the shoe cabinet by the door. A sense of relief from shedding the constraints spread through his entire body in an instant.
Rayal He casually opened the refrigerator, greeted by the cool air and neatly arranged bottles of beer. He chose the beer that attracted him the most, feeling the particularly refreshing sensation of the cold glass bottle in his hand. The bottle cap gently popped open with the help of a bottle opener, accompanied by the unique "hiss" sound and the emergence of white foam, like a liberated melody.
He sat heavily on his favorite sofa, sinking into the cushions as if embraced by soft clouds. Rayal reached for the remote and casually turned on the TV. The screen gradually lit up, filling the room with the sounds of life and the noise of television programs.
One of his hands lazily rested on the sofa armrest, while the other lifted a bottle of cold beer. The coolness of the beer flowed around his lips, and with each sip, it took away some of his fatigue and brought a sense of ease. At this moment, Rayal was no longer the hurried passenger rushing for a train, nor the responsible professional.
The screen displayed a series of social news, some tense and exciting, some mundane. However, Rayal was completely indifferent, his eyes empty as if penetrating the cold TV screen, gazing into a distant realm.
The female host's voice continuously flowed from the TV, with a strong sense of rhythm and an inexplicable melody, like a lullaby. Rayal allowed the sound to linger in his ears, not burdened with any information, but rather a comforting relaxation after exhaustion, a casual and relaxed listening.
As time passed, Rayal's eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier, with each blink stretching out a little longer, like the slow descent of a heavy stage curtain at the end of a long play. His consciousness hovered on the border between reality and dreams, the exhaustion of the moment feeling like a draining of all his strength, leaving him unable to resist the impending urge to sleep.
He felt as though every ounce of strength was being drained from his body, leaving only pure fatigue and desire—a longing for an undisturbed rest. Silently repeating "just a moment's rest" in his mind, Rayal finally gave in to the resistance, allowing his consciousness to slowly sink into a hazy and tranquil dark space.
When Rayal regained consciousness, he felt his eyelids heavy as he opened them. It was as if he had climbed out of an abyss, surrounded by darkness in the quiet room. The only light came from his vibrating phone in his pocket. Awkwardly, he reached into his pocket and took out the buzzing phone, its brightness almost blinding in the darkness, momentarily dazzling him, making it hard to see anything for a few seconds.
Rayal rubbed his eyes and as his vision gradually adjusted to the sudden brightness, he groggily stared at the screen. The number of missed calls in the notification bar was striking, fifty calls - a significant number. His heart suddenly raced; such frequent calls could only mean one thing: an emergency.
Lily, his deputy, must have something urgent to tell him if she's looking for him so eagerly. In this situation, Lily would never be aimless.
Rayal tried to clear his mind and recall the last moment before falling asleep, but found his memory to be hazy. He shook his head, attempting to dispel the heavy drowsiness, and decided to call back immediately. His fingers lightly slid across the touchscreen, finding Lily's contact information, and he pressed the call back button.
As the phone rang, Rayal got up and began to fumble in the darkness, searching for the light switch. Anxiously holding the phone to his ear, he listened to the beeping sound from the other end while trying to find the light switch. He stumbled around, his feet feeling a bit numb, almost falling to the floor. Finally, he leaned against the wall, and eventually found the switch, turning on the light.
The light suddenly flooded the entire room, instantly dispelling the darkness around. Rayal squinted, temporarily struggling to adapt to the intense light. As his vision slowly adjusted, every corner of the room gradually became clear, from the cluttered sofa to the scattered shoes on the floor, and the suit jacket lying next to the sofa.
The phone continued to ring, but no one answered. Lily usually responds quickly and never lets her phone out of her sight. This unusual situation heightened Rayal's sense of unease. His brows furrowed, and he couldn't help but mutter, "What's wrong with Lily?"
Finally, after the fourth ring, the ringing abruptly stopped, replaced by Lily's rapid breathing and a mix of background noises.
"Rayal! You finally answered the phone, that's great," Lily's voice came through the phone.
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