Sitting directly beneath the living room light, Gavin Moore carefully examined the two black-and-white photographs, trying to extract any clues he could.
"The house mentioned in the postmortem photo must be the world where the False Parents come from."
"The first photo says I became a Caretaker—that I hold the key to opening the front door. That key probably isn't a physical object, but an ability… like my game turning into reality."
"The False Parents entered the real world through the game I created. What we call 'parents' may not be their true forms—just appearances they assume when descending into reality."
Gavin wrote two words in his notebook: they and it. Even now, he couldn't be sure what those things truly were.
A dull ache throbbed in his head. He pressed his fingers to his brow.
"All of these abnormalities are connected to that tunnel. Once it's daylight, I need to investigate it. That's probably where the answers are."
He turned to the second photo. Only minutes had passed, yet Ethan Hale's image had already begun to change—thin cracks spread across the surface, his expression growing more terrified by the second.
"Was Ethan's consciousness—or his soul—dragged into the False Mother's world?"
"In less than three minutes, he looks like he's being played to death. That house is truly horrifying."
Gavin put the photos away and immediately called the police. He had no intention of letting Ethan die in his apartment.
"Hello, I'd like to report something. The Rainy Night Killer is inside my home."
After a brief pause, the dispatcher's voice grew tense.
"Are you being held hostage? Stay calm. Don't provoke him. Is he with you right now? Ask him what he wants—we'll prioritize your safety!"
Gavin glanced back at Ethan—head bleeding, drugged, arms and legs bound. After a moment's thought, he replied:
"Just come quickly. I'm afraid he won't last much longer."
While waiting for the police, Gavin searched the news on his phone.
Logically, the disappearance of every passenger on a bus should have made headlines—but he found nothing.
He checked the official bus schedules for the night of the Ghost Festival. According to the website, all routes had been suspended due to heavy rain.
"If all buses were shut down… then what did I ride that night?"
Gavin had worked for years as a psychological counselor at Blackridge Maximum-Security Prison. He'd seen all kinds of lunatics. To protect himself from abnormal thinking, he always forced himself to remain rational.
But at this moment, a new thought surfaced.
"There's something wrong with this world."
Once doubt took root, everything looked suspicious. Gavin skimmed through recent news reports.
"Riverport, the nine-province transportation hub; Xinhu, the century's smart city; Harbor City, an international metropolis—public order is stable, citizens live in peace, cultural heritage is deep. After fair and objective evaluation, all three have been selected as Model Cities of Human Civilization this year! Promoting charity and moral virtue! Now, please welcome Mr. Stuart An, Vice Chairman of the Harbor City Charity Association—"
"Breaking news! Riot at Blackridge Maximum-Security Prison! Multiple inmates injured! Three missing!"
"Breaking news! The only Ninth-Generation Amusement Park in Riverport caught fire early this morning! No casualties, but massive losses—park closed indefinitely!"
"Breaking news! Multiple violent crimes occurred last night in Harbor City's Old Town District! Residents are advised to remain vigilant!"
Gavin frowned.
"Abnormal incidents everywhere. Private media and hidden forums are spreading rumors nonstop—no way to tell what's real anymore."
Rain slammed against the windows. Sirens pierced through the storm. Rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway—then violent knocking at the door.
"They're here!"
Gavin opened the door. Several fully armed officers stormed inside. Their eyes immediately locked onto Ethan—professionally restrained.
"You subdued the suspect yourself?" Detective Ryan Lin raised a hand, signaling his team to secure the apartment. Confusion flickered in his eyes—this was a first in his career.
"A serial killer is most terrifying before their identity is confirmed," Gavin said calmly as he poured himself hot water. "Because anyone around you could be one. Once identified, they're just psychologically broken beasts."
"My name is Gavin Moore. I used to work as a psychological counselor at Blackridge."
"You're brave," Ryan Lin said, his tone firm. "But don't put yourself in danger. Until sunrise, never open the door to strangers."
Though the Rainy Night Killer had been caught, Ryan's expression remained grave. Gavin noticed.
"Does he have accomplices?" Gavin asked. "From a psychological standpoint, serial killers like him usually operate alone."
"The Old Harbor District has seen multiple cases over the last three days," Ryan replied. "What you saw on TV is only what you're allowed to see."
He didn't finish the thought. The truth was far worse—three straight days under a suffocating atmosphere, bodies piling up, crime scenes so grotesque they barely seemed human.
"All these murders happened in the last three days?" Gavin asked quietly.
Three days ago—exactly when he entered the tunnel.
"Stay home at night. Stop taking risks. Protect yourself—and your family."
Ryan was about to say more when footsteps echoed again. A man with a disfigured face and a black ring-shaped communicator on his left arm rushed in.
Ryan frowned deeper but didn't interfere. They clearly belonged to different departments.
The man ignored Ryan, scanned the apartment, and headed toward the bedroom. The moment he crossed the threshold, his communicator malfunctioned—static crackling violently.
Unable to fix it, he hurried out just as quickly.
"He's not one of yours, is he?" Gavin asked. "Why is he involved in the arrest?"
Ryan shook his head.
"He's an investigator from Xinhu City. What he's investigating—I don't know."
"An investigator?" Gavin had never heard that title in the prison system.
Ryan asked Gavin a few final questions. With no medical equipment on hand, they took Ethan and left.
The door closed.
Gavin sank onto the sofa. There was too much happening—sleep was impossible.
"This rain… who knows when it'll stop."
Listening to the clock ticking on the wall, Gavin took out the two photos again. Cracks spread further across Ethan's image—his life seemed close to ending.
"These photos feel like cards in a game. Living people turned into cards… and the monsters are the ones playing."
Staring at his own color image, Gavin forced a weak smile.
"From a visual standpoint, mine should count as a rare card, right? Though with this many parents, characters like me never become protagonists."
…
Outside Building Four of Lijing Apartments, Detective Ryan Lin looked up at the structure. The entire building felt oppressive and bleak—except for a single lit window.
"Officer Liu," Ryan said quietly. "Check that counselor's file. He's far too calm."
"He wasn't lying," Officer Liu replied, rain splashing onto his phone. "Gavin Moore is indeed the youngest psychological counselor Blackridge has ever had. Medical school graduate. Licensed neurologist with prescription authority. But—"
"But what?"
"All counselors undergo monthly psychological evaluations. His most recent result shows an error."
"What kind of error?"
"The danger index exceeded the testing equipment's upper limit."