Chapter 112: Who Killed Me, and Who Did I Kill?

Back then, it was under Chu Chenfeng's instruction that I opened the Black Suitcase and conducted the deduction game.

Therefore, when the Black Suitcase was opened, it should have been facing me, because I was the one who opened it, and I remember it was facing me too.

But at this moment, it is facing the opposite side, facing the direction of the "Wax Figure"!

Yet, no one has ever moved it.

So... in fact, it is not that the Black Suitcase has changed direction, but that "my position" is actually the position where the "Wax Figure" is now!

In other words, the one who turned into the "Wax Figure" is actually not Chu Chenfeng, but me...

I might... already be dead!

Harboring this terrifying thought, he uncovered the solidified, soft wax layer covering the "Wax Figure's" face.

Two faces identical to one another, four eyes meeting in a gaze; Ding Mo was completely stunned on the spot.

On the table, the Black Suitcase sat quietly, its open mouth pointing directly at the "Wax Figure," as if conducting an absolutely real accusation.

Whoosh—!

A storm lashed against the window; as the "Final Act" progressed, the weather seemed to become extremely severe.

But, what was inside Ding Mo's heart at this moment had already stirred up a storm far more violent than this!

"He is Ding Mo? Then who am I!?"

"Am I Chu Chenfeng? No, how is that possible!?"

"But Ding Mo is already... dead! I was the one who plotted to kill him! I am Chu Chenfeng!"

"No, that's not right, it was Chu Chenfeng who died... not me!"

Ding Mo roared, he hunched over and clutched his head, his face twisting once again, dozens of faces floating and shifting on his face once more!

At a certain moment, he raised his head again and met the "Wax Figure's" gaze.

"Tell me, what on earth is going on!?"

He roared out, and it seemed as if even the dust on the floor trembled. Even more strangely, this move actually had an effect!

Ding Mo widened his eyes; from the "Wax Figure's" eyes, he received a series of messages as if connected to Wi-Fi:

"My name is Ding Mo; when you hear these words, I am already dead."

The man in front of the "Wax Figure" rolled his eyes back, and gray memories surged forth—

It was a room exactly the same as this one, with the same table and the same chairs.

However, in the scene within this memory, there were two living people.

One of them was Chu Chenfeng, and the other was a black shadow whose face could not be seen clearly. Yet, although it was pitch black all over, it made him feel incredibly familiar, as if that were himself.

Both were wearing strange costumes with long swords at their waists, sitting at the table, with the Black Suitcase placed at the black shadow's side.

They seemed to be discussing something; the black shadow was somewhat anxious, while by comparison, Chu Chenfeng seemed somewhat unhurried.

Then he saw that, suddenly at a certain moment, Chu Chenfeng stood up, moved away from the table, and was still saying something.

And the black shadow, right after that, just stood up and became motionless.

"The black shadow is me; I fainted after that, and then..." Ding Mo watched all of this blankly, but,

The subsequent development of events was completely different from his impression!

He saw that just as a smile appeared on Chu Chenfeng's face, the black shadow opposite suddenly twisted! That appearance was just like a mass of air undergoing light distortion and trembling after being suddenly heated!

The Chu Chenfeng opposite revealed an expression of surprise, and just as he was about to step back, he suddenly showed signs of pain!

Subsequently, the same black shadow appeared all over his body! Black shadows seeped out from him piece by piece, bit by bit, replacing his face, hair, and physique...

In the end, Chu Chenfeng turned into a new black figure, leaning against the wall, and stopped moving.

He seemed to have fainted.

Until, at a certain moment, he woke up, his face gradually becoming clear, and finally...

Returning to the present, the stumbling Ding Mo held onto the table, barely managing to stand steady.

After a long while, he raised his head,

Revealing a face... of Chu Chenfeng!

On his face was an expression of sudden realization:

"So, it was I who killed myself!"

After finishing, he laughed hysterically and frantically, as if he had heard something extremely ridiculous!

"Ahahahahahaha! Hahahahahahahaha..."

Until his voice turned hoarse and blood flowed from his seven orifices! The sound of laughter stuck in his windpipe, turning into a wheezing hiss like a bellows!

At this moment, his body twisted and expanded, then completely disappeared from the room.

Only a "Wax Figure" with eyes that had completely lost their luster remained, standing there...

Hotel main hall.

The ruthless rainstorm had already surged down!

The chandelier on the ceiling emitted a feeble light, the lamp post swaying slightly. The spotlight, however, was the exact opposite, casting a strong light straight down.

In the gloomy and damp air, countless eerie figures twisted and moved forward.

The Crystal Coffin, which had appeared in the corner at some unknown time, had already opened, and creatures from another world were continuously pouring out!

Two men and one woman were standing on the steps of the throne. They were in a sorry state, covered in wounds, blood flowing everywhere, their faces full of exhaustion.

Below the steps, the faceless "Prince" was pinned to the ground by two swords, unable to move.

Compared to last time, it seemed it had not been able to find a suitable temporary Mask, and its power was much weaker.

"Su Jia, hurry and go to the throne to complete the Ritual!" Both the man and woman looked toward a middle-aged person beside them wearing a small crown.

He was originally the "King" of this Ritual, but now he had become the "Prince."

"Thank you for your help." The middle-aged man nodded with a look of gratitude.

But the moment he turned around, he couldn't help but reveal a sinister expression!

"Finally, I have waited for this day..."

Walking step by step toward the throne under the spotlight, the middle-aged man couldn't help but recall his past:

After graduating from high school, he went out to work early, married, and had children.

Likewise, like most wage earners, he took on a mortgage and car loan that year, becoming the most loyal employee under his boss, the firmest cornerstone of the company, and the most diligent builder of society.

So loyal that he saw his boss more often than his own children; so firm that even when his elderly mother was hospitalized, he could stick to his post, never leaving or abandoning it;

So diligent that he passed by his own home many times without entering, until his family became strangers and his relatives became enemies.

Stroking the delicate patterns of this supreme throne with his hand, the Mask on the middle-aged man's face, symbolizing the authority of a "King," emitted a cold light.

In the end, past middle age, he was laid off by the company due to an economic downturn, his family turned against him, his wife filed for divorce and took his house, and his children were unwilling to live with a "stranger."

Besides, when it came down to it, he didn't know how to take care of children either.

So, he had nothing left, only a car... The middle-aged man stood before the throne, turned around, and looked down at the swarms of Guaishou below.

He had wanted to let society see clearly what he, with only a car, could still do.

He wanted to let those people—who could take their daughters to school every morning, walk with their wives in the park after dinner, and still feel that the money they earned, which filled every floor tile in their homes, was not enough—see,

see what kind of ability someone like him actually had!

He had even driven his car to the park his former boss often frequented, intending to just like that, vent his final madness and end it all once and for all.

... But, in the end, he gave up; perhaps it was because too much time had passed and he was too old, causing him to lose his nerve.

Or perhaps doing so wouldn't be able to finish off everyone—even if he sacrificed his life, there would always be people like that; they could never be killed off, and it was meaningless.

The middle-aged man had thought it was because of the former, but today he understood:

It was because of the latter!

The middle-aged man sat down; upon the throne, madness appeared in his eyes!

"Listen well, you devils from the Different Space!" the middle-aged man shouted, his voice laced with boundless rage!

Beside him, a man and a woman immediately sensed something was wrong.

"What are you doing? Order them to go back!"

"No!" The middle-aged man gritted his teeth and refused—he even roared, like a vicious dragon that had finally been able to bare its fangs and giant claws:

"Let this fucked-up world go to hell!"