Chapter 156: Passing By, Goodbye Haley, the Strange Dollhouse

The next day.

David went to meet his partner—in other words, the recipient of a major deal.

Louis and Jiali casually found a car and rode all the way to Calabasas.

According to the driver, he was a small-town farmer whose town lay near Calabasas; he had borrowed heavily due to his wife's cancer and took on odd jobs tied to the entertainment industry just to repay his debts, earning quite a bit extra.

This time, he had decided to return temporarily because family members said his child was sick.

Sitting in the sedan, Louis saw the autographs and light signs behind them and understood what the driver's usual side job was.

During conversation, Louis learned he had one son and one daughter; by coincidence, his name was very similar to Louis's—Louis Switz.

"Oh God, please protect my child from anything more than a minor illness—don't let her suffer like her mother did."

Perhaps because of talking about family, Switz grew somber and unconsciously pulled out a cross, pressing it to his forehead as he whispered a prayer.

Louis said nothing from the backseat; though he was certain God existed here, praying to Him was unlikely to work—after all, that thing was as good as dead asleep, never actively revealing His power or saving His followers.

Often, He might as well not exist at all.

Otherwise, how could false believers and nonbelievers keep multiplying?

And why were all kinds of cults and demon worships so rampant?

He felt that if things continued like this, one day demons might openly impersonate Him and walk the world in broad daylight.

In short, praying to God was probably the most useless method—but that didn't stop believers from finding psychological comfort.

Beside him, Jiali watched the cross with indifference; she had once, because of her mother, longed to believe in religion, seeing it as validation—but now?

She only found it noisy.

Since Calabasas was forty to fifty kilometers outside Los Angeles, the drive took about an hour; after dropping off Louis and Jiali, Switz continued driving—his home, the town of Evanwood, was now very near.

Along the roadside, another car sped up; a girl with short black hair leaned out the window, peering at Louis and tentatively called out, "Louis?"

"Haley?"

Hearing the voice, Haley smiled faintly, opened the door, and stepped out.

"Louis, long time no see."

"You too. What have you been up to lately?"

"School. Though I feel these lessons are already outdated for me, my father won't let me skip grades—I'll probably be stuck in high school for another two years."

"What about you? You never gave details on the phone."

"Me? Also school—but I skipped a grade."

"…."

As they chatted like adults, they stuffed their belongings into the car.

Louis also introduced Jiali and Haley to each other; but Haley, burdened by thoughts, silently assessed Jiali—though she wasn't Emma or Mary, since Louis had brought her along, she must be trustworthy—or at least useful—if Louis hadn't changed.

Soon, Haley drove Louis into the city, heading straight for a two-story house with a yard.

British-style decor, with a pool and garden inside; though not large, it radiated an inexplicably luxurious elegance.

On the drive, Haley said her father had been promoted—from professor at Calabasas Medical College to dean—officially crossing class boundaries and entering the academic elite's world.

At this level, owning a luxurious house was normal; this was just the beginning—he might even get a standalone villa later.

Inside the house, she said, "My father just got promoted—he's always busy with work and rarely comes home these days."

"I asked you here mainly for this."

She went to her room, pulled out a large box from under the bed, and placed it on the living room coffee table.

She opened the box.

Inside lay an exquisitely crafted dollhouse.

Every model was lifelike—the grass looked vividly green, as real as the real thing.

"Coffee? Water? Or a drink?"

"Green tea."

"Water."

Haley nodded, pouring water for both as she spoke, "I got this dollhouse from a little girl selling secondhand items; she told me…"

"After I came back, I tested it—everything she said was true."

She set down her cup, then pulled a six-to-eight-centimeter-tall priest doll from her pocket and placed it inside the house.

Louis activated his Spirit Eye, observing closely; Jiali's gaze was also drawn in.

"These dolls gain life."

The doll inside moved—the priest doll appeared before a corpse, as if stunned.

But no matter the doll, none escape the ghost head's slaughter.

The priest doll pulled out a cross, entered the bedroom—where a bloody ghost head slowly twisted, fixing its gaze on the priest doll.

Swipe!

The next second.

The ghost head moved with terrifying speed, replacing the priest doll's head and clamping it onto its neck; blood streamed down its body, staining the floor red, while the priest doll's severed head rolled into the corner.

"According to that girl, when the ghost head is removed from the dollhouse, it becomes its real size—meaning…"

"The ghost head will enact the dollhouse's killings in reality," Louis said.

His eyes locked onto the ghost head.

As if sensing it, the ghost head stared directly at Louis.

Haley nodded, "That's what I thought too."

She glanced at Louis and Jiali—neither had been shocked; only curiosity lingered. This deepened Haley's intrigue.

What had Louis been doing these past few years?

"So what do you plan to do with it?" Louis suddenly asked.

He hadn't forgotten her phone call—she clearly intended to use it for something.

Haley fell silent, her expression darkening. "To kill someone."

"I had a friend named Tang Na—she was only fourteen. A few months ago, she was raped and murdered. The police never found the perpetrator. But by tracing her routines and interests, I identified a suspect."

"Just a suspect, of course. So I spent months confirming—this man enjoys luring young girls, and I've gathered other evidence of his crimes."

"Now, I'm almost certain he's the one who killed Tang Na."

As she spoke, she instinctively glanced at Louis, gauging his reaction to her intent to kill—but Louis showed no change in expression, even looking slightly bored, idly rubbing his cup as he asked,

"So?"

Haley smiled. "So I want to use this house to make him experience the terror of a haunted place. After all, the unknown is the most frightening thing."

"No, no, no."

?

Haley stared, surprised, but didn't speak yet.

"The ghost head in this dollhouse is too violent and too unpredictable. By the time he starts feeling fear, he'll already have his head ripped off."

Louis said, "So I suggest a different approach."

"Why not let him experience being raped himself? You know—prisons have plenty of men who enjoy that taste."

"Once his self-respect is shattered, give him a sliver of hope—then crush it."

"Trust me, this will give you immense satisfaction."

Louis smiled and drained his green tea.

Haley's expression shifted—Louis's method had never occurred to her. Her backup plan had been to torment the man, gather his criminal evidence, then threaten to expose it to his family and friends, forcing him into social ruin and suicide.

Compared to that, Louis's plan, though disgusting, was simpler, cruder, more violent, direct, and utterly hopeless.

"Perhaps… you're right."

Louis smiled. "I'll help you. But I think this dollhouse should be sealed away."

Haley understood Louis's meaning. "Fine. You can take it. I hope you keep it safe—I don't want to hear news of your death someday."

"Thank you very much. But don't worry—I'm now a professional in this area. Also, do you know where that little girl bought it?"

"Oh, at the end of this street, there's a newly opened doll shop. She begged her parents to buy it from there. But I checked—it's all perfectly normal."

Louis nodded. "I see. Now let's talk about this man and the details of your friend's murder."

Next, Haley told a clichéd murder story: a fangirl was deceived and raped-murdered by a perverted cameraman who lured her with promises of photos with a celebrity.

"I found many videos of Lei Jina among Tang Na's things—this confirmed it."

Lei Jina? Familiar.

Huh—I remember now. On the plane, I saw her in the newspaper—a big star. She was sick, too.

"…Finally, this photographer is extremely elusive. He's likely victimized many underage girls." As she spoke, cold light flashed in Haley's eyes—she had already decided to kill.

The two discussed details of the plan; Louis remained utterly calm throughout.

Even Jiali merely frowned, showing disgust toward the pervert—she seemed indifferent to whether he lived or died.

This only deepened Haley's curiosity about what Louis had been doing these past years.

Over half an hour later, after dinner, Haley arranged rooms for Louis and Jiali.

Alone in the room, Louis stared at the dollhouse—within his eyes, a complex rune flickered faintly.

For Haley's matter, Louis hadn't taken it seriously—a pervert threatening minors? In Orlando, he wouldn't even need to lift a finger; his subordinates would have already sent the bastard to his blood curse chamber.

Even hardened convicts were just squealing lab rats in his own experiments—what was one molester?

So when discussing it with Haley, everything felt casual.

By contrast, the dollhouse before him held far greater allure and interest.

From the moment Louis first saw this object with his Spirit Eye technique, he felt it resembled a magic treasure—though that was just a metaphor; in truth, it was simply a special item.

The toy house's material seemed to contain something like a magic array, though he couldn't make out the details, he could still infer a few things.

As for that ghost head…

A defense mechanism? A power supply mechanism?

What was this thing even made for?

To play an ultra-realistic simulation game of being a family?

In any case, this thing couldn't have formed naturally—it must have been crafted by someone. So what kind of being could create such a special item?

"Strange."

Louis rubbed his chin, still unable to decipher its mechanism.

The ghost head, however, he now understood a bit: it possessed some form of spirit or rule, but no true intelligence—it merely stared blankly at anyone who looked at it. When something blocked its view, it stopped staring; when the obstruction was removed, it resumed staring, utterly inflexible.

Beyond that,

Louis's mind buzzed with other conjectures: What if he inserted a god's or demon's puppet inside? Would it come alive? Gain special abilities? Would the ghost head kill it?

What about other things placed inside? Would seeds grow? Could animals eat? Would the dolls continue to grow and even age? Might this be some kind of low-dimensional world?

All these theories and fantasies surged at once, and Louis found himself utterly curious about the object.

"It feels like when I used to play house or hide in secret bases as a kid. Good. When I get back, I'll definitely test it."

Though Louis said this, he didn't lower his guard—who knew if the ghost head possessed the same instant-killing power as the dolls inside? Best to seal it away securely.

Tomorrow, he'd find someone to make a tin box to store it, and he'd also visit the doll shop that sold it—to confirm things in person.

After sealing it in a cardboard box, Louis sat cross-legged. At his realm, he no longer needed much sleep—meditative visualization alone was enough to restore his spirit.

…

A sleepless night passed. The next day.

Louis took Xiang Jiali to find the doll shop, while Xiang Hai began the operation—leaving a phone number and loitering nearby to lure the target.

Walking down the street, Louis reached its end, turned a corner, and before him lay an old shopping arcade. The storefronts were worn, and the shops inside looked lifeless.

The doll shop Xiang Hai mentioned was unmistakable—he spotted it at once. But the instant he saw it,

Xiang Jiali, who had been trailing Louis step by step, suddenly froze. Then, without warning, she gripped Louis's hand tightly. "Don't go."

???

Louis frowned and stopped walking. "What's wrong?"

"I've been to that doll shop before."

Xiang Jiali stared fixedly at the shop, as if recognizing and recalling something.

"In Orlando, in our neighborhood—the new doll shop called Fenli."

"That's where we bought it."

(End of Chapter)