Thankfully, although the two detectives had their doubts, the girls didn't think too much and were even more convinced by what Anonymous had said.
Suzuki Sonoko was especially terrified—whether it was the ghost Anonymous mentioned or the "freshly discovered corpse" found by passersby, they were both women with dyed hair. She... she also dyed her hair!
She was still young! She hadn't bagged any handsome guys yet... she didn't want to die!
Sonoko stared fearfully at Anonymous. Then, suddenly inspired, she figured—since Anonymous had brought it up on her own, maybe she also had a way to deal with it.
Sonoko asked cautiously, "So... do you have any suggestions?"
Anonymous nodded calmly. "Of course. I came to save you."
As she spoke, she held out her hand. "May I have your camera?"
"Okay!"
Sonoko didn't think twice. She took the camera hanging from her neck and placed it into Anonymous's hands.
Jangxia Tongzhi was very pleased with how cooperative she was.
Anonymous tugged her hat down and said softly, "Go play. Just stay away from the beach."
Then she adjusted her skirt and walked off with the camera.
The entire sequence of movements was smooth and confident, like saving people was just... part of her daily routine.
It wasn't until she had walked more than ten meters away that the others finally snapped out of it.
"...Hey," Amuro said, eyes twitching as he turned to Sonoko. "Don't you think she looked like a scammer pretending to be a psychic just to steal your camera?"
Sonoko clutched her hands to her chest, eyes misting over. "I believe her!"
Who cared about the camera?! She just didn't want to be dragged off into the woods and stabbed!
Amuro sighed deeply inside.
Naive civilians like this... maybe that's why they, the police, work so hard.
…
As a certified psychic, Jangxia's puppet manipulation skills were also, obviously, certified.
He could control his puppet remotely like a marionette or possess it directly.
But since the puppet hadn't been upgraded yet, he couldn't do both at once. So when Jangxia was possessing the puppet, his real body went full idle mode.
Luckily, everyone's attention was currently focused on Anonymous, so no one was bothering the main body.
The pottery classroom wasn't far from the guesthouse.
Jangxia had the puppet find a beach recliner and lie back with a phone before his real body walked out of sight.
Then his consciousness returned to his body, and he headed into the pottery classroom with the others. He found a stool, sat down, and promptly went back to napping AFK.
Ran and Sonoko were used to his monk-like habits and didn't bother him. As for Amuro... from Shanni Temple onward, Jangxia had been sleeping this way the whole trip, so Amuro should be used to it by now.
Once the main body was settled, Jangxia's mind returned to the puppet.
The killer had probably seen Anonymous take the camera from Sonoko just now.
Compared to five people walking around together, a solo target was obviously easier to deal with. There was no way the murderer would pass up such a golden opportunity to retrieve the evidence.
Jangxia had just gotten comfy on the lounger when a shadow loomed overhead.
Anonymous tilted her hat up and looked up to see a man in a floral shirt approaching.
Dori Masahiko gave her a wink and offered an overly friendly smile.
"Hello there, are you free right now? I know a really good restaurant. Want to try it with me? My treat."
The person on the lounger looked at him, then slowly sat up on the armrest. Her skirt rustled over the sand with a soft swish.
Soon, Dori Masahiko heard her respond cheerfully, "Sure!"
Now that he was closer, Masahiko realized—wow, she was actually really pretty.
...Even better.
Damn pretty girls.
Especially the kind who'd so easily agree to a stranger's invitation.
Dori Masahiko sneered in his heart as vivid mental images of gutting the woman in front of him flashed behind his eyes.
But outwardly, as a veteran killer with four murders under his belt, he kept his poker face. With gentlemanly flair, he turned to the side and began leading the way.
…
He picked a mountain path to the seaside restaurant.
People felt safe in familiar places, and murderers were no exception. Dori Masahiko had killed someone near here before, and it had left him with... fond memories.
On the way, he used lines like "the view there is better" and "I know a beautiful scenic spot" to lure Anonymous deeper into the mountains.
Once they were far enough in—and sure no one would hear screams—Dori Masahiko dropped the nice-guy act.
He pulled out a knife from his pocket and turned around with a twisted grin—
—only to immediately get slammed over the head with a stick.
The wooden club came crashing down with the rush of wind, and when it landed, it was like fireworks exploded behind Masahiko's eyes. His hand jerked, the knife fell with a clunk.
Masahiko clutched his head and stumbled back in stunned horror. Through his blurred vision, he saw the "frail lady in a black dress" weighing the stick in her hand, giving him a weirdly restrained, almost disappointed stare.
Blood running down his forehead, Dori Masahiko stared at the now-smiling Anonymous, and it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him.
...What the hell just happened?
Something was wrong here.
This was not how the script was supposed to go. He was supposed to be the one holding the knife!
WHACK!
Anonymous strolled toward him with her skirt swaying, raised her hand, and smacked him with the stick again.
…
The shikigami on Dori Masahiko's leg was particularly stubborn.
The guy had been beaten into a literal pig's head, and Jangxia still couldn't find a good opening to extract it. Yet the shikigami showed zero intention of letting go.
Still, he'd managed to knock some murderous aura loose—specifically the part directed at Anonymous.
Low quality, sure, but it was something.
Still, Jangxia couldn't allow the shikigami to escape.
He hefted the stick in his hand and eased up just a bit, slowing the pace of his whacks so Masahiko would still have enough breath to scream.
Might be more satisfying that way.
Dori Masahiko, being a sturdy eight-foot-tall man, could still take a beating. Once he had a brief opening, he wiped the blood out of his eyes and bolted.
He had, of course, tried to fight back earlier, but gave up almost instantly—he didn't stand a chance. Her strength and reflexes didn't match her delicate build. If anything, they were borderline monstrous.
Once that impression took root, every glance at Anonymous made him feel like he was looking at a corpse—one that had been dressed up for a funeral, its eerie smile frozen in place.
For a moment, Dori Masahiko wondered if all his victims had come back to haunt him, merged into a single vengeful female ghost, and come to take him down.
As that terrible thought crossed his mind, a voice called from behind him:
"Don't run. I won't hit you anymore."
Dori Masahiko's chest tightened.
A woman's mouth—full of lies!
But the offer was just... too tempting. He couldn't help but peek over his shoulder.
He saw Anonymous toss the stick away and smile innocently at him.
Masahiko stopped in his tracks. He stared at the discarded weapon, then at Anonymous's gentle expression, tears nearly springing to his eyes. His voice trembled as he asked, "Really... really no more hitting?"
"Of course." She nodded sweetly.
Then, without warning, a deep and bloody gash tore across her stomach. Another followed. And another. Her skin and innards tumbled outward, twisting and expanding like a grotesque flower blooming—like a gaping mouth torn wide open.
Dori Masahiko screamed, throat tightening, scalp going numb. His memories of murder began to blur and overlap with the scene in front of him, confirming his worst fears.
As he panicked, Anonymous continued calmly, like she was finishing a thought:
"If it breaks accidentally, you won't be able to slice it cleanly."
The forest fell silent.
Then a scream tore through the air like fabric being ripped apart.
Masahiko ran like hell, panic giving him near-superhuman speed. Wind whipped through his ears, blood dripped from his scalp and blurred his vision. In the red haze, he vaguely heard a polite voice behind him:
"Careful, the mountains are dangerous. Don't run around."
He did not care.
He ran.
Then—his foot missed the edge.
He fell.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 23/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS*
Glossary:
Buddhist: Used here to mean someone chill, unbothered, or detached from worldly concerns.
European Emperor: Fan slang for someone with absurdly good luck.