To Nishikawa Suimei, the situation felt increasingly suspicious. How did this woman know so much about the secret passage? Why was she helping her? And what's the deal with the treasure? It was all a fog, a mystery that twisted her brain into knots.
But Nishikawa Suimei had been playing the part of the frail, old lady for far too long, stumbling around the castle day after day. At this point, the lure of the treasure overwhelmed her common sense. She gave up thinking and just focused on one thing: getting that treasure, no matter the cost.
Anonymous, however, remained calm, watching Suimei's retreating back.
Before she could follow, she took a quick detour, heading down a different corridor where the body had been hidden—suspended in the air. She dug into the pocket of her coat, pulled out a paper bag full of... something ghostly, and emptied the contents into a hidden pocket on the side of her skirt. Then, with a casual flick, she snatched a cigarette, pinching the end with her fingers before flicking it away.
She waved her hand, brushing away a spider that had been hanging near her face, then casually removed the spider silk tangled in her hair. After a final glance, she turned back toward the path leading to the "treasure."
Meanwhile, Nishikawa Suimei was busy making her way through the secret passage, her footsteps echoing in the silent hall. Thankfully, no one was around. She dashed to the grand portrait of her great-grandfather and pushed it aside, revealing a vertical shaft leading upward.
A grin spread across her face. She swiftly climbed the iron ladder bolted to the wall, her excitement growing with every step. After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached the top, where a closed door awaited.
Her heart raced. She couldn't wait another second—she slammed into the door, bursting through.
But what greeted her wasn't treasure.
It was just... emptiness.
The treasure. Where was it? Her treasure!
Could it be that the woman from earlier had tricked her?
"The treasure is right in front of you," came a calm voice from below. Anonymous had climbed the last step, her head popping up over the edge. "Don't you see the engraving on the wall next to you? It says, 'I will give the scenery at the top of this castle to the one who reaches it first.'"
Nishikawa Suimei, feeling completely thrown off, looked at the wall. The light was so dim that she almost had to press her face against it to read the faded words.
She stared at the inscription, then looked out over the dark, eerie woods beyond the tower's windows. A wave of confusion hit her.
After a long pause, she slowly raised her hand, touching her crinkled, aged face. "I... I've gone through all of this, for this?" she muttered to herself, her voice cracking. Tears began to roll down the creases of her face like orange peel.
Anonymous, who had now reached the top, glanced at her before looking away. She casually lit a cigarette, the flicker of the flame the only light in the dark tower, joining the pale moonlight. The dim glow illuminated Nishikawa Suimei's face as she stared at the fire, mesmerized.
The small flame, though faint, seemed to warm the stagnant thoughts in her mind. Slowly, the realization started to hit her.
The treasure she had been searching for all this time was nothing but a cruel joke. The landscape outside, the scenery from the top of the tower... that was the "treasure" she had spent so much time chasing.
Her hand shook as she instinctively reached for the edge of the window, gazing down into the abyss. The thought of jumping to end it all seemed tempting, but when she looked down into the depths of the night, she froze.
No, she realized, she didn't want to die yet.
While there was no treasure, Mrs. Masuyo still had valuable things. Maybe she could get the plastic surgery to return to her former face. Maybe it was time to stop chasing an illusion and start over somewhere else, leaving this creepy castle behind.
With a slow sigh, Nishikawa Suimei stood up, leaning against the wall. She turned her eyes toward Anonymous, a strange mixture of gratitude and confusion in her gaze.
Though she didn't know why the woman knew so much or why she was helping her, Suimei felt... conflicted.
She lowered her head and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she murmured.
Anonymous, still holding the lit cigarette in one hand, glanced at her before flicking the match out with her other hand. The remaining smoke swirled in the air, and she rubbed the cigarette butt on the dust in her palm.
With a soft whistle, the smoke burned out at an astonishing speed.
When the last embers disappeared, Nishikawa Suimei saw the faintest of smiles curl at the corners of Anonymous's mouth.
The woman opened her hand toward Suimei, speaking in a calm, almost eerie voice, "You're welcome."
In the next moment, countless pale, ghost-like figures surged from the woman's outstretched palm. They twisted and expanded, emitting shrill, piercing screams as they rushed toward Suimei with furious rage.
Suimei's breath caught in her throat, and she recoiled in terror, raising her arms in a futile attempt to shield herself.
But the tower was narrow, and there wasn't much room to escape. As the vengeful spirits closed in, she let out a scream, but instead of impact, the ghosts rushed through her, passing right through her body as if she were nothing more than a mist.
Suimei stood there, stunned, her hand trembling as she looked at the spot where the ghosts had passed. Her palm had been pierced, but there was no pain—just a strange numbness, as if she had been massaged by their touch.
Before she could fully process what had just happened, her instincts kicked in. In her panic to avoid the "special ghosts," she leaned back too far, losing her balance and tumbling backward.
She fell—out of the tower.
…
Meanwhile, Amuro Toru was climbing the tower, following the path through the passage. He was almost at the top when he saw Nishikawa Suimei fall from the edge of the tower, flailing in the air.
Amuro saw no ghosts around—those unscientific, bizarre creatures had already disappeared by the time he reached the top. What he did see was the old woman, her expression twisted with reluctance as she plummeted.
The wind whipped at the top of the tower, and the smoke from Anonymous's cigarette had long since been blown away. Anonymous, with a cool and calculated demeanor, turned from the window and adjusted the brim of her hat.
Down in the passage, Ran, Sonoko, and Conan, who had been climbing the stairs, heard a distant scream, growing fainter and fainter. They looked at each other in confusion.
"What's going on? What happened?!" Ran cried out.
Amuro, his voice deep and serious, said, "Don't come up yet."
Though it wasn't Anonymous who had pushed Nishikawa Suimei, the woman's reluctance to fall from the tower made it clear that Anonymous was somehow involved. Surely it couldn't be a ghost pushing her down right?
Amuro's mind raced. If this was the height he thought it was, then the fall would've been lethal.
Nishikawa Suimei was full of secrets, and they were tied to the fire from years ago. She wasn't a good person, and now she was dead. But that didn't bode well for the others, because if Anonymous was the one behind it...
Anonymous might save the good people, but she seemed to have no qualms about taking lives either.
And if Anonymous had a thing for "sorting the bad people out," then Jiang Xia's situation was about to get dangerous.
After all, Jiang Xia was a "high school detective" in the public eye, but in reality, he had been involved in a lot of shady dealings.
If Anonymous could stop a bomb from reaching its target, there was no reason she couldn't uncover Jiang Xia's secret identity.
If Jiang Xia turned out to be a "bad guy" in Anonymous's eyes, well... he might not have much time left.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 40/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:0/10*