TL: Hua
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“…I don’t understand what you mean, sir.” Owen’s voice was incredibly dull and muffled as it passed through the door into the room.
“You don’t understand?” Wen Zheliu’s lips twisted into a cold smile. At this time, May hadn’t come back from the small garden, but Wen Zheliu knew that without her father’s permission, she may never be able to walk out of the small garden.
The window was tightly sealed by wooden boards, and only hazy light occasionally penetrated inside. The only way to freedom here was through the door in front of him, which was now blocked by the tall man, whose face was all hidden in the haze and hard to distinguish.
“As early as when May said that sentence, I should have been able to think of it…”
The red-haired girl turned her head and said urgently, “Come in! God knows this is already the area where those ghosts appear the least!”
This kind of ghost plague land is full of wandering and crazy dead souls, floating around without a fixed place, everywhere. But under what circumstances will a vacuum zone with sparse ghosts appear?
—Either there are churches, Buddhist temples, and some strange treasures here, or there is a ghost that is far more ferocious and powerful than other ghosts.
“The news in the newspaper is very confusing, and the ghosts who came to find me in turn—including you—said very strange things, but that doesn’t prevent me from extracting important information from it.” Wen Zheliu murmured, “In fact, what all of you say is true, except that your memories are skewed after death, causing you to speak in different ways.”
“You’ve been misled by them,” Owen said. “No normal person should believe a ghost.”
“All the more reason normal people shouldn’t take the word of a chainsaw murderer!” Wen Zheliu snapped back unceremoniously, “Tell me, Mr. Owen, how long have you been holding that chainsaw? In my opinion, it’s as inseparable from you as it is from your own hand. Do you think your wife and children are afraid of you and want to kill you all because of the influence of the Midnight Happy Show?”
The pale yellow lamp on the porch illuminates Owen’s gloomy facial features and also exposes the long saw in his hand at the junction of half light and half darkness. Wen Zheliu sneered and continued: “Outsiders are one thing, but even your closest family members have begun to show fear and rejection towards you; why don’t you look for the reason in yourself, Mr. Owen?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Tbe jgf yfklamtfv ys atfw!” Ykfc kjr oeglber. “Tbe tjnf cb lvfj ktja atf Zlvcluta Ljqqs Vtbk tjr vbcf ab ws ojwlis…”
“Dea sbeg ojwlis xcbkr yfra ktja atf Zlvcluta Ljqqs Vtbk tjr vbcf ab sbe!” Qfc Itfile gjlrfv tlr nblmf jcv lcafggeqafv tlw tfjnlis: “Zg. Ykfc, ajxf j ubbv ibbx ja sbeg tjcv jcv rff ktja la’r uiefv ab cbk!”
Owen raised his arm subconsciously. This time, Wen Zheliu could indeed see clearly that the cutting chain and teeth of the electric saw were covered with deep-colored blood and mutilated human tissue. There were even a lot of unidentified male and female hairs tangled in the handle that were stained with shredded flesh. They had entangled and swallowed Owen’s right arm and seemed to have become the veins and flesh of the weapon, inextricably linked to its host.
“How long have you been holding this chainsaw?” Wen Zheliu narrowed his eyes and asked, “Your wife is afraid of you; your daughter wants to get rid of you; and your son wants to push you off the stairs. You think they’re crazy? No, you’re the first one to go crazy! Because you literally had your chainsaw with you, and in every argument you had with your wife, you showed the urge to saw her to pieces. You’re the odd one out, Mr. Owen!”
Owen’s look was trance-like and bewildered as he said incoherently, “That woman is the crazy one; she won’t let me go out to work; this is my job; she won’t let me go out to work…”
“This is not your job, Mr. Owen.” Wen Zheliu’s gaze of pity was tinged with loathing. “A job doesn’t instigate you to brutally murder your own family. You claimed to hate the Midnight Happy Show, but it’s long since melted into your bloodstream, turning you into a homicidal maniac who’d rather delude himself than wake up from a flawed dream.”
The words “homicidal maniac” brought Owen’s morbid ravings to a screeching halt like a vicious, forceful shackle. A suffocating silence enveloped everything for a few moments before the chainsaw was suddenly pulled with an astonishingly loud noise, like a swarm of billions of man-eating bees crashing on the closed door!
“I’m not a murderer! I’m not a murderer!!” Owen roared hysterically. The compressed solid wood door was no match for the chainsaw, and he let out a piercing and broken scream amidst the deafening buzzing: “They wanted to kill me; that’s right, they’re the ones who’re not normal!”
Wen Zheliu didn’t expect this madman’s behavior to be so uncontrollable; his heart beat violently, and cold sweat gushed out all over his body. The fragments of the door in front of him splattered in all directions, as if they were darting arrows. May was still lingering in the small garden, waiting to attract the next innocent passerby for her father.
He clenched his teeth, turned around, and darted up to the second floor, where he saw a pot of hot soup being boiled and bubbling on the humble kitchenette. Wen Zheliu immediately covered his palms with his sleeves, and regardless of the burning natural gas stove, he strode to the window facing the street on the second floor, smashed the glass window with one leg, stepped on the triangular ridge below, and shouted, “Hey! Mr. Murderer, I’m here!”
Hearing the sound above his head, Owen, who was on the verge of madness, immediately ran out of the porch with a chainsaw whizzing at high speed. He was immediately doused with boiling soup from Wen Zheliu, and the scalded flesh twisted and rolled up in a mass of sizzling white smoke!
“Ahh!!” Owen yelled in pain, scratching his face with one hand and swinging the chainsaw desperately with the other. In the silence of the night, he was like a mad beast, exuding shocking cruelty and madness.
“Yes, some of what you said can indeed be matched with the clues in the newspaper, but the truth often needs a little more deviation!” Wen Zheliu shouted, “The joy of successfully improving the patent project and the influence of the Midnight Happy Show have given you an unspeakable attachment to your tool, and, I’m guessing, you see it as a part of your body. Your wife cannot tolerate your behavior of incorporating that weapon into daily life. She fled the house in fear after seeing that her admonition was futile. Your daughters poisoned you, and your sons pushed you, because in their eyes, their father was no longer the sane father he used to be, but a madman who looked like he would go on a killing spree with a chainsaw at any moment!”
“I’m not! I’m not! I’m human!” At this moment, Owen’s form has completely changed. The work clothes he was wearing gradually leaked a strong, foul-smelling blood color, even polluting the harmless sky blue into a dirty, sludgy black. His complexion became paler, his eyes gradually darkened, and he became exactly the same as Happy Dawson. After being exposed by Wen Zheliu, he had completely taken off his human disguise and turned back into the appearance of a fierce ghost.
“Are you human?” Wen Zheliu was not afraid of him on the ridge of the roof because he was far away, and he continued to mock him. “If I had a mirror with me, I would throw it down and let you take a good look at your current image. Do you think you can be called a human?”
The chainsaw in Owen’s hand made a piercing and deadly, high-pitched sound. It roared and opened its bloody mouth, smashing open the crumbling door like a headless chicken!
Wen Zheliu jumped up, planning to have a thrilling chase with him on the roof at any time: “You posted your wife’s missing notice in the newspaper, and then your wife took advantage of your absence to try to sneak back and take the two kids—up to this point, you’re right on all counts, but she never expected that you would suddenly come back midway! Your daughter’s glass of poisoned water was not for her mother, but for you. She wants to protect her mother; the person she wants to poison to death is you!”
Holding the chainsaw, Owen ran amok in the downstairs living room. He turned over the coffee table, smashed the vase, and made a series of loud noises below before rushing upstairs.
Wen Zheliu envisioned the scene in his mind: Mrs. Owen, with disheveled red hair and a pale complexion, took out the key to open the door in panic. Her daughter and son, hearing the sound, came out of their rooms upstairs. The poor woman was overjoyed and rushed up to take the children away from here. However, at this moment, a tall and gloomy figure suddenly appeared at the wide-open doorway of the villa. Because his right hand was dragging the chainsaw, even the shadow reflected on the ground was longer than the left hand…
The more critical the situation was, the clearer his mind was, and his thought process became smoother. Hearing the screeching noise of the chainsaw and the roar of the ghost getting closer, he gripped his cane and climbed up to the window sill on the third floor, tumbling over to the rooftop entrance.
…There must have been a dispute between Mrs. Owen and her husband, but there is no doubt that she failed. There is no empathy between ordinary people and madmen who have lost their minds. The husband’s emotional state and the chainsaw in his hand were threatening the poor woman’s life. May couldn’t bear all this anymore, so she tried again, bringing a glass of water with insect repellant or rodenticide from the kitchen, trying to poison her frightening father and get rid of him once and for all.
But, as she said herself, Leighton Owen was very good at gardening, and he used pesticides so often that he could naturally tell that the water didn’t taste right. Therefore, he became furious and wanted to teach his daughter a lesson. His wife must have stood in his way, desperately trying to stop it… Then the tragedy happened. The youngest son fell down the stairs out of terror, and his wife and daughter perished in a most tragic manner.
The fierce ghost leaned out of the window with a hideous face and roared in a changed voice, “I’m going to tear you apart!”
“Catch me if you can!” Wen Zheliu spat back.
His posture is like that of a really light and agile deer, weaving back and forth across the roof of the house. The overly steep terrain must have worked against Leighton Owen, because he wasn’t one of those slasher ghosts with an illusory body setup. The chainsaw in his hand forces him to touch the outside world with a physical body, and that just goes to show how powerful it is.
… Wen Zheliu’s brain continued to deduce without stopping, his thoughts flowing smoothly like eating four hundred years of Dove chocolate.
After what happened, this madman began to deceive himself. He fabricated many illusions and reasons, such as the unfilial daughter who poisoned him, the youngest son who fell down the stairs when he lost his footing, and the wife who suffered from persecutory delusion… As for the cause of his subsequent death, that is another irrelevant answer. But Wen Zheliu knew that this ghost, which had completely lost its mind, still firmly controlled its family after death, toying with the innocent travelers passing by.
The chainsaw roared loudly behind him and violently lifted the sundries piled up on the roof. A shower of sparks erupted in the darkness; that was the sound of the high-speed rotating saw teeth colliding with the metal and concrete floor!
If your body takes a hit, you’ll be dead or injured in an instant.
“…You think you’re innocent, but your bloodthirsty desire is constantly tempting you to pick up your murder weapon. May is the bait for people to be taken, and after that, the phone call from your youngest son and your wife’s advice are wave after wave of tests—asymmetric left-right information and extremely paradoxical circumstances can greatly affect people’s judgment. They are indeed worthy of sympathy, but those who believe in them will also die without a whole body!”
Wen Zheliu leaped down to the second floor, nimbly jumping up and down on the roof tiles, dodging the jagged teeth that pierced back and forth over his head like steel spikes. “When the test of the son and the mother passes, the next thing you’ll do is to take the matter into your own hands, as you accuse the passersby of your family’s atrocities against you, pleading your innocence, which serves to deceive as well as satisfy your inner desire. After experiencing the first two rounds of shock, more people will fall into your shoes. You enjoy their wailing and dilemmas, delighting in seeing them waver in the mystery… Yes, of course you know, because this unknown newspaper is your best evidence!”
After yelling the last sentence with deep hatred, Wen Zheliu exerted strength, hooked his cane on the broken window panel obliquely, and jumped back into the house in a flash. At this time, the gas on the stove was still burning endlessly, filling the whole house with a pungent odor that made people dizzy.
“I’m inside again; come and catch me!” He shouted provocatively while pulling the false tabloid from his pocket and tearing it into scattered pieces after a few tries.
“I know you have absolute control over this area; otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to imitate my companion’s voice to fool me, so this newspaper is f*cking fake from beginning to end, right?!” Wen Zheliu was incomparably furious inside, “smearing your family’s name, proving your so-called love with your son’s essays, and showing off your own accomplishments. Ptooey, I almost puked reading this!”
The fierce ghost was mad with anger, and soon he heard the violent shrill of a door lock being sawed open from the rooftop. The sound of metal cutting and tearing could almost pierce the eardrum. It was followed by the heavy footsteps and thunderous roar of the ghost chasing wildly all the way down the stairs with its chainsaw raised!
Wen Zheliu sneered, climbed the handrail of the stairs, jumped to the first floor, kicked away the mess that was almost smashed into ruins, and ran to the door that had been knocked open.
Afterwards, he picked up a piece of wood from the ground and flicked it with both fingers. The refined oil in the package was immediately splashed on it. He lit it up and then threw it towards the tattered window on the second floor—
“See you on the other side, sir.”
thank you for the update (˘︶˘).｡*♡
Yessss deliver that dose of reality to the bastard