DA chapter 12

 

“Yes.”

The first-floor lobby was empty, yet the Fishman’s voice easily filled it.

His grin was disturbing; he looked more like something “harmless but terrifying in appearance.” Everyone knew the Fishman wasn’t harmless. Its time simply hadn’t come yet. Soon, it wouldn’t take long for the Fishman to complete its mutation.

Aside from the Fishman’s suffocating presence, the third question Lin Jia was about to ask weighed heavily on their minds.

According to their conversation in Room 202, Lin Jia would inquire about the murder after confirming these two questions. Regardless of the Fishman’s answer, the murder could potentially manifest, threatening their lives once again.

But there was no other solution. It was a necessary step to finding the Soup Base. The question had to be asked.

The atmosphere was heavier than when they were searching for the dead among them. They were more focused on Lin Jia than before, unable to take their eyes off him for a second.

They saw Lin Jia turn around and say, “Come back here in exactly four hours.”

The high school boy didn’t react in time. “Huh?”

Lin Jia called, and the cat followed him back to Room 103.

The high school boy watched Lin Jia disappear from sight, then glanced at the Fishman. This glance accidentally met the Fishman’s gaze. The Fishman probably mistook the sound he had made as a question because it stared straight at him, its shadow-covered pupils filled with undisguised malice.

Terrified, the high school boy stumbled back and fell onto the floor, still pointing at the Fishman. “It, it, it—”

Buzzcut warned, “Don’t talk nonsense.”

Ignoring the pain from the fall, the high school boy clamped his hands tightly over his mouth. He was terrified that he might accidentally ask something, just as Glasses had carelessly done with the second question.

Then, Buzzcut also glanced in the direction that Lin Jia had left. Since he didn’t ask the third question, everyone finally breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

Lin Jia said he would return in four hours. Four hours was the minimum amount of sleep the human body needed daily. They had gone through far too much the day before. If they couldn’t get at least four hours of sleep, they would be nothing more than lambs to the slaughter once the homicide case was manifested.

“Go rest first. Come back in four hours sharp.” Buzzcut repeated Lin Jia’s words, then threatened, “If anyone’s late, I’ll kill them myself.”

Lin Jia returned to his base, Room 103. The lights inside were still on.

He shut and locked the door, picked up his toiletries, and went to the bathroom. The cat followed him. While Lin Jia washed his face, it spoke nervously, “Weren’t you afraid that when the chair flew over, you’d get revenge from Shi Luo’s eyes?”

“He’s almost dead. No point in worrying,” Lin Jia said as he dried his hands. He went into the inner room, took off his outer layer, and hung it on the rack.

Then he removed his watch, intending to sleep.

The cat wanted to say something but knew that Lin Jia needed rest and didn’t allow it on the bed. So, it curled up into a tight ball on the floor.

It was sleepy, too. After yawning, its eyelids drooped.

“What is Fish Spirit?”

Suddenly, Lin Jia spoke.

The cat struggled to open its eyes and saw Lin Jia looking at it.

The cat replied, “It’s just like Buzzcut said—it can be traded for currency.”

Lin Jia: “I want something more specific.”

When Buzzcut first mentioned Fish Spirit, the cat had already remembered a few things. Since Lin Jia rarely initiated conversations, his sleepiness was cut in half. “Once the Soup Base is found, the Fishman will die. When he dies, he becomes crystal-like stones—that’s Fish Spirit. After obtaining Fish Spirit, you can go to the Management Office to register and exchange it. Depending on the quality and quantity, you’ll receive corresponding currency. Many people enter the Fish Belly just for Fish Spirit. Those old guys clearly know each other. They must have come together to collect Fish Spirit. People in the Underwater Wold often band together. Do you really believe Buzzcut will hand over all the Fish Spirit to you?

Lin Jia didn’t comment. He didn’t look at the cat again and closed his eyes.

The cat felt ignored and muttered, “What kind of person are you…”

Lin Jia’s breathing became steady, as if he had fallen asleep. The cat stopped lying on the floor and was about to jump onto the foot of the bed. Sleeping on the floor was too uncomfortable—it was cold and hard.

But just as it made the jump—

Lin Jia: “If you want to get kicked out, go ahead.”

The cat: “…”

What kind of person is this?!

—

The alarm rang exactly four hours later. Lin Jia put his watch back on his left wrist and fastened the strap with a crisp snap.

He was about to open the door when the cat blocked it, pressing its round body firmly against the door.

Lin Jia: “What is it?”

The cat moved slightly, but not enough to clear the doorway. Before Lin Jia could move it, the cat asked, “Are you really going to ask about the murder case?”

Lin Jia countered, “Do you have a better method?”

The cat obviously didn’t. It wanted to think of one, but its brain wouldn’t cooperate. “The white figure was smoke formed from burning ritual offerings. Since we’ve already confirmed it was a ritual, do we really have to ask the third question?”

Lin Jia gave the cat a sideways glance and concluded that the cat was not only forgetful, but also had a poor memory.

Since the cat had answered his question about the Fish Spirit earlier, Lin Jia humbled himself enough to explain, “The link between the ritual and the murder is only speculation. Whether the speculation holds requires evidence.”

But the Yi Le Apartments had no clues that could confirm the speculation. Because of the Fish Belly rules, everything had to be asked directly. Even if they found the Soup Base later, it would still be built on speculation—an unstable foundation that would collapse.

Besides, rituals aren’t necessarily performed for the dead. It could be religious, cultural, or simply someone who liked playing with fire. Without asking, there was no way to know the nature of the ritual.

Lin Jia pushed the door open more forcefully, not wasting time with the cat anymore. The cat couldn’t resist and was swept aside by the door.

Lin Jia stepped out, and the cat quickly followed.

He was the last to arrive at the first-floor lobby. The others were already waiting.

Buzzcut handed him a compressed biscuit.

There were still a few slices of toast left in Room 103, and Lin Jia wasn’t interested in the dry, hard biscuit, so he declined.

They didn’t exchange much. Everyone knew what the gathering after four hours meant.

Without wasting any time, Lin Jia looked at the Fishman. The Fishman seemed eager for Lin Jia to ask the question. He stretched his habitual grin, pulling the corners of his mouth back to his ears. Sticky saliva leaked between his teeth.

Lin Jia never found it scary— just disgusting. After a brief frown, he asked, “Did someone die at Yile Apartment before the blogger Xiao Wu moved in?”

Everyone’s faces turned pale, and their bodies trembled.

The elderly group stared hard at Lin Jia. The two newcomers unintentionally tightened their grip on their clothes.

Fishman: “Yes.”

The three safety questions were over. The Fishman’s bulging eyes rolled inside their sockets. Its gaze wandered among the remaining people as if waiting for someone to ask the fourth question, which would trigger the Fishman Mission.

The speculation had just received direct confirmation. Lin Jia lowered his eyes and thought.

The others didn’t dare interrupt, growing increasingly anxious where they stood.

Even with this answer, the Soup Base wasn’t clear yet. A layer of fog still hung over everything.

Seeing that Lin Jia had been thinking for too long, and fearing that he wouldn’t share, Buzzcut opened his mouth, “Blogger Xiao Wu knew…”

He stopped abruptly, terrified, and glanced at the Fishman.

He had almost asked the fourth question of the day.

Buzzcut swallowed and cautiously suggested to Lin Jia, “Maybe we should talk in a room?”

Lin Jia walked toward the left side of the corridor and picked a room at random.

Everyone hurried after him, terrified of falling behind. The Fishman’s eyes remained fixed on them.

“Brother Jia, what do we do next?” As soon as they were inside, the high school boy asked. His face was pale with fear, and his whole body trembled.

Their situation was extremely precarious, and the answer to today’s question was crucial. The phrase “someone died” concealed killing intent. The probability of its manifestation was undeniable.

Buzzcut grabbed the high school boy by the collar and pulled him aside, then took the spot next to Lin Jia. “The white figure is smoke from burned ritual items. Someone died in this apartment before the blogger moved in. That means Xiao Wu has nothing to do with the death.” According to Soup Surface, Xiao Wu discovered the white figure by accident and decided to follow it. During that process, he gradually noticed his neighbors’ strange behavior and then deleted the related videos. Could the neighbors’ weird behavior be because the death came from them? Of course they wouldn’t treat the blogger kindly when they saw him investigating.

Lin Jia didn’t respond. Buzzcut continued, “The blogger kept saying someone was watching him. They must have been the neighbors, watching him because they were afraid he’d uncover their secret. They might have even wanted to silence him, which is why he installed a camera at the door of Room 303—to guard against them.”

The high school boy and Xiao Mei widened their eyes.

It seemed to fit—the clues they already knew connected well with this explanation.

Sister Fang said, “But we still don’t know why all the neighbors disappeared.”

Liu Ying said, “Figure that out, and the Soup Base should be complete.”

They kept discussing it among themselves. Buzzcut, not wanting to hear any more nonsense, pressed Lin Jia again: “What do you think?”

Lin Jia replied flatly, “If the blogger knew his neighbors wanted to harm him, why didn’t he leave? Why not call the police? Why not ask his online followers for help? Why install a camera instead? It’s redundant.”

Buzzcut froze.

The discussion went silent.

In the quiet, Sister Fang asked, “Can you tell us your thoughts?”

Lin Jia spoke up. “My thought is—survive first.”

The topic returned to “the death,” and Buzzcut’s face darkened. However, after hearing Lin Jia’s response, Buzzcut instinctively felt that Lin Jia had a line of reasoning, so he asked a question.

Lin Jia: “If I were a Fishman, I could materialize the ‘death’ in two ways.”

Everyone held their breath and tensed up. Even the cat looked up.

Lin Jia: “First, death is reenacted at the scene of the incident, and anyone who accidentally steps into it will replicate that person’s manner of death.”

Everyone broke into a cold sweat instantly.

Lin Jia’s tone was cold as snow, filling the room with a biting chill.

“Two, the dead returns.”

 

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