Doomsday Wonderland C.1417: The Believer that Never Was

The character Elizabeth seemed to act like a dam.

Even as her surging emotions threatened to overwhelm her like a tsunami, the dam held steadfastly, allowing only a shallow pool of emotion to reach the surface. Hence, regardless of how intense her inner feelings were, Elizabeth shook her head gently and said, "I was quite fond of it..."

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The life or death of a potted plant did not stir much emotion among the others. None of the neighbors paid much attention to the catmint. Instead, they surrounded the pot and saw the dead baby inside it. Amidst the soft gasps, they all turned their heads—their gazes landed simultaneously on Barbeque Brow in the living room.

Barbeque Brow hung her head low, seemingly oblivious to their stares, her gaze fixed intently on a booklet in her hands. It was a familiar booklet to all of them—the character manuals they each carried.

The middle-aged woman playing Barbeque Brow clenched the character manual, distorting its shape. Raising her eyes, her usually calm features seemed tense, her lips quivering slightly, "I failed. Because of this damned meddling woman, my mission failed."

'The game hasn't reached its 30th day,' Elizabeth thought, 'but the mission has already failed, which means—'

Suddenly, the apartment door was forcefully shut, slamming right before them and startling several of the residents who stepped back. The door was firmly closed, cutting off the light, noise, and the person inside.

Following that, the curtains were abruptly pulled across the windows, plunging the room into darkness. Within a split second, Apartment No. 1 seemed untouched by time, swallowed by the building in its eerie silence.

Was the middle-aged woman going to wait with them in the darkness behind the door until the game ended in 30 days?

The thought sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine.

The more pressing issue was, did a player who had failed their mission still count as a target in their strategy?

"It seems the game has turned this apartment into a storage room," someone said. "Let's go."

The dead baby still lay in the pot. Before leaving, they glanced at it. Finally, Jessica asked, "Did you really predict all of this? Or did you just happen to see something?"

Elizabeth, who had been pondering how to carry the catmint back upstairs—even though it was dead, she couldn't bear to leave it alone outside—was brought back to the present by the question. She slowly nodded in affirmation.

"I know you don't believe in my abilities, but that's okay. But think about it carefully; I spent most of this afternoon with all of you. I saw what you saw."

The group exchanged glances, silent.

Ms. Chen hesitantly added, "Before we entered apartment no. 4, she already knew there was bloodshed inside. During the time the murder occurred, she was in her room. My apartment ceiling is thin; I can vaguely hear footsteps."

"Not only was I in my room, but I also faced a ghost inside," Elizabeth said.

Recalling the doll with the red shoes, she clenched her fists. She had wanted to confide in the catmint. Even if the catmint wouldn't respond, at least it would have calmed her. Now the catmint was gone, while that doll might still be waiting for her in her apartment.

"Ghosts..." Jessica and Mr. Grant exchanged a look.

"This building is haunted. Maybe the ghost has corrupted people's hearts and instigated murderous intent, resulting in so many deaths," Elizabeth said, trying to muster up some energy for her goal. "It might have sensed my plans to exorcise it. That's why it attacked me."

Her words didn't seem to convince anyone immediately, but she didn't say more and turned to pick up the catmint. Ms. Chen lagged behind a few steps and surprisingly helped her lift the other side. Although Elizabeth didn't show it, she understood. It seems that after her series of predictions, Ms. Chen had finally decided to seek her help. If she followed Elizabeth's guidance and retrieved the ID from Pink's hiding place, she would naturally believer in her psychic power.

As they moved toward the stairs, Elizabeth saw Pink glance several times in the direction of apartment No. 4. They had come out in a hurry, and someone hadn't shut the door tightly, so it slid open slightly. Elizabeth peered inside, her gaze landing on the prone corpse.

She paused, raising an eyebrow.

She knew what Pink had discovered.

When Elizabeth's gaze met Pink's, she quickly glanced in Ms. Chen's direction. Pink seemed to get her message. Both understood each other without a word.

"I want to play here for a while," Pink told his grandma. Without waiting for her to nod, he turned and walked onto the lawn, and his grandma quickly followed. Despite his young age, he seemed to share an understanding with Elizabeth. With just a glance, Pink knew that Elizabeth was planning to let Ms. Chen achieve her objective.

Ms. Chen's gaze lingered on the grandmother and grandson for a moment.

"I've thought about it," she muttered, "and there's no harm in letting you cast a hexagram for me. When are you free? How much do you charge?"

Elizabeth set aside her thoughts about apartment No. 4. Regardless of what it was, someone else was trying to accomplish their own objectives, and she didn't need to get involved. She looked at Ms. Chen and said, "I won't charge. I only ask that you answer my questions."

Ms. Chen's brows furrowed deeply.

"Just consider me overly curious," Elizabeth said, lowering her voice. "From the hexagram, it seems that what you're searching for is extremely important to you, even life-threatening... but it's in Pink's grandma's house. Why is that?"

Ms. Chen's mouth was shut tightly, as if she had never opened it in her life.

Elizabeth walked in silence for a while. Only after the other neighbors had dispersed and she and Ms. Chen were left standing beside the staircase, holding the dead catmint, did the old lady finally speak.

"In her house?" She seemed almost incredulous. "Did you just see something and make a wild guess? I think there's an 80% chance it's not in her house."

"Why?" Elizabeth tilted her head in query.

Ms. Chen, looking even more embarrassed, paused, then said, "Because I've searched her house several times already. The thing belongs to her, so I thought it would be there."

"Oh?" Elizabeth feigned surprise. "How did you search? Even though she's absent-minded..."

Once the ice had been broken, Ms. Chen's confession flowed more smoothly. Even with a murder, the building residents' attitude seemed to be, 'as long as it doesn't affect us,' which perhaps gave her some sense of security.

"I used a sedative," she said simply. "Every time, I drugged the two of them unconscious before beginning my search."

Her demeanor was natural, as if drugging someone was the most mundane thing—or perhaps, for her, it had become commonplace.

Ms. Chen's character introduction didn't specify her occupation. What did she do before?

While pondering, Elizabeth asked, "Where did you get the drug?"

"Jetson sold it to me," Ms. Chen said as they carried the catmint up the stairs together. "Whenever no one was paying attention, he and I would meet under these stairs. Money for drugs."

"It seems you bought quite a bit," Elizabeth said. "You just mentioned you've searched several times already."

"Do you want the drug?" Ms. Chen glanced at her as if she had figured out her motive. "It's impossible now. I don't have any left. The last time I dealt with Jetson before he died, he only gave me enough for two uses. He said that was all he had, and I've used it all up."

No wonder she hadn't drugged Pink's grandma recently.

"I suspect Jetson was secretly selling drugs to other residents," Ms. Chen said. "When I first approached him, he assured me there was plenty. It hasn't been that long, and he's already sold out!"

"I'm afraid you might be right," Elizabeth said. Seeing her apartment door getting closer, she sighed. "I think I can guess who his other customer was."

Before Marigold rushed downstairs, she had told Elizabeth that she saw Ivy talking privately with Jetson. Of course, this alone might not be conclusive evidence, but considering Ivy's frequent visits to Barbeque Brow's house, and the latter always being unaware of her presence, it couldn't be just the effect of alcohol.

"It makes sense if it was Ivy," she said, nodding. "Oh, should we place the plant at the doorstep?" By this time, they had reached the apartment door.

Ms. Chen loosened her grip on the catmint and glanced at Elizabeth's slightly ajar door. "Are you... going to do the divination for me here?"

Having initially scoffed at her supernatural abilities, Ms. Chen now seemed a bit wary of the ghost inside. After the "divination," the number of those who believed in Elizabeth's abilities might rise back to four.

She still felt apprehensive about the apartment herself, but there were more than ten days left until the game ended. She couldn't avoid going home forever. "I'm prepared now, so I won't be easily attacked," she said. Holding the catmint, she walked into the living room and placed it on the sofa. "Come in. I'll do the divination for you."

Pink had already told her where the hidden character information about Pink's grandma was. She just needed to perform a mysterious ritual. She laid out some fancy props on the dining table and asked Ms. Chen to sit down.

To avoid being caught bluffing by Ms. Chen, Elizabeth shortened the ritual process. Like many mediums who feigned spiritual connections, she closed her eyes and slowly gestured over the table items, as if she was listening to some inaudible voices, saying, "I see many indicative images... Oh, I know, there's one place you haven't searched."

Ms. Chen remained silent, seemingly waiting with bated breath for her answer.

"It's been right under your nose," Elizabeth said. "Pink's grandma likes to sit on the sofa knitting sweaters, and there is one that has always been left unfinished. Am I right?"

She wasn't sure if it was Ms. Chen's excitement that caused her to knock on the table, but she heard a muffled "thud." Elizabeth immediately opened her eyes and saw Ms. Chen staring at her intently, half her body leaning over the table.

"She tucked the item between two layers of the unfinished sweater," Elizabeth said. "You will notice that it's thicker than a regular single-layered one."

Ms. Chen took a sharp breath, instantly sprang up, and dashed out of the door without saying a word, leaving it open behind her.

Pink had intentionally steered clear with his grandma, ensuring Ms. Chen's objective could be smoothly achieved. Elizabeth didn't chase after her. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath. Her plan with Pink was to allow Ms. Chen to complete her objective. In doing so, she'd gain another believer. As part of the deal, she would also fulfill Pink's request.

As for Pink's grandma, good luck to her.

She took out the character manual from her pocket and flipped to the task progress. It still read 3, which wasn't surprising, as Ms. Chen probably hadn't obtained the item yet. In another minute or two, the number would soon change to 4. However, three minutes later, the number still hadn't changed.

'What's going on?'

Puzzled, Elizabeth stood up. Her line of sight immediately passed over the dining table to the floor below, and she felt a chill run throughout her body.

Ms. Chen's body lay twisted underneath the dining table, her face ghastly pale. It was evident from the still wet white froth at the corner of her mouth that she had died only moments ago.

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