Thriller Paradise Chapter 116: Black and White Ghost Domain (Part 4) - Novel Cool

Chapter 116: Black and White Ghost Domain (Part 4)

Chapter 116: Black and White Ghost Domain (Part 4)

The wall calendar showed November 24, 1990. Feng Bu Jue stood inside a mid-sized electronics manufacturing company—a relatively big enterprise in this small town, though still dwarfed by corporations in major cities.

Before beginning his investigation, Feng Bu Jue patted his pockets as usual. The three keys had reappeared. This likely meant he’d soon need to use this item.

As someone from the 2150s, encountering a computer naturally made him want to boot it up first. But then… there was no "then." Staring at the black screen with its blinking cursor, Feng Bu Jue—who knew absolutely nothing about Dos—was immediately stumped.

With a helpless sigh, he started flipping through the paper documents on the desk. Twenty minutes later, he’d confirmed they were useless scraps. He then systematically checked the office desk drawers. As expected, one was locked. Taking out the keys, he found a matching one without trouble.

Inside the drawer sat a large envelope stuffed full. Underneath it was a smaller envelope labeled "Resignation Letter."

Feng Bu Jue glanced around furtively before opening both. The large envelope contained Hirata Shūichi’s résumé. The kid had graduated from Kyoto University—no wonder he’d become deputy minister before turning thirty. But why would someone like him come to a backwater town like this?

The smaller envelope naturally held the resignation letter. Feng Bu Jue skimmed it and pieced together some answers. This Hirata fellow seemed decent—he’d tried to retain employees from financially struggling families, while privately resolving to quit himself.

Afterward, Feng Bu Jue carefully returned everything and locked the drawer. Then he headed to the restroom.

He ducked into a stall because he planned to activate 【Know Your Enemy】 again. He didn’t want to use it in a crowded office, where a splitting headache might suddenly drop him into a chair-gripping, head-clutching spectacle that’d draw attention.

Taking a deep breath, Feng Bu Jue triggered his title technique. As before, searing pain erupted in his skull—but no boss data appeared. All he saw was his own face flashing past, expression numb and wide-eyed, with vacant, lifeless eyes.

As Feng Bu Jue clutched his head, still reeling from the daze and headache, he heard the restroom door open. Footsteps told him two people had entered.

The two men approached the urinals, relieving themselves while chatting idly.

"Hey… You saw it too at the staircase, right?"

"Ah, yeah. The scum department head’s getting bolder every day."

"Shhh! Be careful someone hears—"

"Tch… Let them hear. I’ve been dying to quit for ages. Isn’t all this mess Fukui’s fault?" The man spat, furious. "Always making stupid decisions but blaming others. His embezzlement’s no secret—he’s dragging the company toward bankruptcy! And just a few days ago, he casually bought some luxurious western mansion and moved in. With parasites like him, of course everyone gets laid off."

"…What can we lowly workers do, even if we know?"

The two moved to the sink, washing up. Then came the sound of a lighter igniting. Both lit cigarettes, continuing their conversation.

"Poor Ping Tian Jun’s the most pitiable. Always cleaning up that bastard’s mess. Forcing Hirata to handle layoffs—that was probably his idea too."

"Good guys never win. I heard Hirata’s house was in the area hit hardest by last year’s typhoon. Now he and his wife had to move into a sandingmu nagaya."

"Huh? That place’s even livable?"

The man exhaled smoke. "Worse, though—his wife’s cheating on him."

"Right? She’s been openly intimate with the department head on the stairs! We bystanders can’t even stomach it." He blew out smoke too. "Years ago, Ping Tian Jun gave up a bright future in Tokyo just for Haruko. He groveled to get her hired here. Now that woman’s openly shacking up with this scum minister behind her husband’s back. Disgusting."

Feng Bu Jue listened, shocked by their dialogue. This scenario was pure morality-destroying. That Hirata Shūichi wasn’t just tragic—typhoon-destroyed home, cheating wife, imminent job loss, financial ruin, sacrificing his youth and career for nothing, plus constant ghostly hauntings. This guy should’ve offed himself ages ago.

"Hey… The stall might be occupied." The two men suddenly lowered their voices.

"Heard us, maybe… Who’s in there?"

"Shit… When we passed the office earlier, Ping Tian Jun wasn’t at his seat. Could it be…"

Their whispers faded until Feng Bu Jue couldn’t hear them.

He pondered how best to exit when—unanticipatedly—the problem solved itself.

Feng Bu Jue lost bodily control again.

"Impossible! Again?" he thought. "Don’t tell me this scenario has four or more main quests?! Is it never ending?!"

The answer was yes. And it had already ended.

This time, no system voice sounded. The scenery didn’t turn into CG. Instead, the world became a wall projection. In an instant, he stood in a cement-walled room with no windows or visible door.

Regaining his senses, Feng Bu Jue suddenly saw color. The clicking sound in his ears grew clearer.

He wore a psychiatric restraint garment. His arms crossed horizontally across his chest, sleeves open at the ends and looping around his body. Leather strap buckles secured his neck, waist, legs, and ankles to a chair. He could only sit, barely even shifting sideways.

Worst of all, his eyelids were taped open, forcing his gaze forward. His eyes stung with dryness.

The clicking sound came from a small projector on a desk behind his right side. It aimed at the wall ahead, projecting black-and-white film footage—ending on the restroom scene from moments ago.

Snap. Snap.

Someone snapped fingers twice in front of his face. Feng Bu Jue shifted his eyes, seeing a man in his thirties wearing an outdated plaid suit. Though the fabric was richly textured, the style looked old-fashioned.

The man wore black-framed glasses, his hair neatly combed. Ordinary-looking, expression kind—but his eyes held suspicion.

"Ping Tian Jun, are you alright?" he asked.

"Who are you?" Feng Bu Jue replied.

The man’s face shifted slightly. He pulled a tiny flashlight from his pocket, shining it into Feng Bu Jue’s eyes while leaning closer.

The sudden light stung Feng Bu Jue’s eyes: "Hey! Stop that! It’s too bright. Are you a doctor?"

"I am Doctor Watanabe. Don’t you remember me?" the man asked.

"How did I get here? What’s going on?" Feng Bu Jue pressed.

"I told you—it’s a waste of time", another voice cut in from Feng Bu Jue’s blind spot behind him. Moments later, the speaker stepped forward.

Around fifty, graying temples, sharp and severe features, wearing a trench coat, cigarette dangling from his fingers.

"Commander Tachibana, please—this is critical", Watanabe interjected.

"Tch…" Tachibana crushed his cigarette, hands in pockets, glaring at Feng Bu Jue—or rather, at Hirata Shūichi—with fiery intensity.

"Do you remember anything, Ping Tian Jun?" Watanabe asked.

"I…" Feng Bu Jue hesitated. He knew the three stories he’d experienced were all Hirata Shūichi’s memories. He’d tell the truth and see what information these Npcs might reveal. "I was walking home… when I met Hanako Okiku…"

Before he finished, Tachibana roared: "Bullshit! You done yet, punk?!" Lunging forward, he tried grabbing Feng Bu Jue’s hair—but Watanabe blocked his way.

"Chief, calm down!" Watanabe barked.

"Chief…" Feng Bu Jue had been analyzing the situation since arriving. Now he formed a bold hypothesis: "Did I kill someone?"

"Kill someone?" Tachibana repeated, then sneered before erupting into laughter. "Finally confessing, huh? Thought you’d deny it forever!"

"Doctor Watanabe—are you a psychiatrist?" Feng Bu Jue turned again.

"Yes", Watanabe nodded.

"Then you know about dissociative identity disorder?"

Watanabe hesitated: "Of course."

"What, this punk thinks he can fake insanity now?!" Tachibana shouted, his fury seeming to set his hair ablaze.

Ignoring him, Feng Bu Jue continued calmly: "I’m not Hirata Shūichi."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end

Report