But it’s not too late to talk now, after all, they couldn’t communicate before, so before she dies the fourth time, let the gloomy boy speak quickly. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel⁂fire.net
The latter spared no details, listing the rules of this house one by one. Minamoto Tamako listened in a daze; she was in the 1990s’ Japan and had never heard of rule-based horror stories, she just felt these rules were quite eerie.
First, do not touch the food in the fridge, or you’ll die.
Second, don’t approach if someone knocks on the door, or you’ll die.
Third, when you hear footsteps, you must flee, or you’ll die.
Fourth, do not be seen by ’Mom’ or ’Dad’, or you’ll die.
Fifth, beware of insects and small spots of light in the house, or you’ll die.
Sixth, do not sit on the sofa, or you’ll die.
Seventh, do not run around at night, or you’ll die.
After listening to him say it all in one go, Minamoto Tamako vaguely realized something and couldn’t help asking, "Don’t your parents allow you to keep a cat?"
"Yes, they say cats carry heavy yin energy and staying with them would counter luck." The gloomy boy nodded.
All the rules were from the perspective of a cat. As a cat, to survive in this house, you must carefully hide yourself; getting discovered means death.
Minamoto Tamako had never heard such a saying before. She felt a little sorry for Fushimi Roku, thinking of how she at least had a Shiba Inu with her during her childhood, being able to run around the yard telling lies, while Fushimi Roku had to be cautious even to keep a cat in the attic; truly unfortunate circumstances for a family.
"What’s the name of your cat?" Minamoto Tamako asked.
"Zhou Yuanyuan, we usually just call him Yuanbao," the gloomy boy said, "I’ve heard that cats take on their owner’s surname, bringing good fortune to them."
Minamoto Tamako thought indeed the whole family was somewhat superstitious! However, upon second thought, she remembered how her acquaintance Fujimura-kun scoffed at supernatural matters, revealing quite a significant character difference between them.
"If there’s no way to go outside, how can I find your cat?"
Minamoto Tamako felt a bit troubled, thinking that Fushimi Roku wasn’t asking for much, yet she couldn’t fulfill it, which was somewhat distressing.
"You just need to survive till dawn."
The gloomy boy paused before continuing, "Survive till dawn, and you’ll turn back into a kitten."
At these words, Minamoto Tamako felt something weird. Not being able to cuddle Fushimi Roku was one thing, but getting cuddled by him instead hurt her dignity. As a future famous detective and police chief, the thought of being cuddled like a cat by an eight-year-old kid was just too embarrassing.
But on the other hand, since she had chosen this path, there was no turning back. Not to even mention Fushimi Roku cuddling her; if he wanted her to sleepover, she’d just have to brace herself and comply.
"It seems that surviving till dawn isn’t too difficult, except for not knowing if there’s still time outside..."
Minamoto Tamako began worrying about the situation outside again, and this time her worries proved to be correct.
In the basement, Fushimi Roku continued pacing back and forth, murmuring to Minamoto Tamako; Miyazaki Shizuka took the chance to slide slowly toward the stairway along the wall, intending to sneak out.
Unexpectedly, the stairs were old and worn, and as soon as Miyazaki Shizuka stepped on them, they creaked. She felt a chill in her heart and turned back to see a pair of eyes glowing in the dark; Fushimi Roku was staring straight at her.
Miyazaki Shizuka swallowed hard, feeling like she had stepped on a landmine, not daring to move. The slightest motion beside her would cause Fushimi Roku to explode in rage.
Both of them were locked in a standoff.
A minute passed, three minutes, ten minutes... Miyazaki Shizuka was at her limit, her nerves on edge, wanting to twist her body to relieve some tension.
At that moment, Minamoto Tamako’s pink flip phone suddenly rang, diverting Fushimi Roku’s attention as he turned to stare at the phone.
Miyazaki Shizuka quickly dashed up the stairs, and Fushimi Roku didn’t pursue her, letting her breathe a sigh of relief.
As long as she could get out of the basement, everything would be fine, and she’d have more options once she was out.
Miyazaki Shizuka entered the kitchen, checked the gas cylinder, and found it empty, cursing her luck secretly, probably because the Nishino siblings used up all the gas while hiding at home.
She didn’t really want to do this, but she was truly out of options; otherwise, she wouldn’t have mailed the tape of Fujiwara Homare and Yoshikawa Ritsuo’s recordings.
Her research was just one step away, lacking clinical cases, forcing her to experiment this way... But as she continued, things got out of hand; she achieved deep hypnosis but didn’t know how to unravel it.
She couldn’t control those "patients" but became obsessed with uncovering how to undo deep hypnosis, entering a vicious cycle, unable to stop experimenting to find a breakthrough.
As for the journalist, it was simply because he spoke nonsense, desecrating the sanctity of academic research, so she made him personally experience what it felt like to be an "addict."
She never imagined things would escalate ...
What should she do now?
Poisoning? She had no way to get poison gas on short notice, and moving a gas cylinder from the city would leave records, so she had to temporarily abandon the poison plan.
Then use a crossbow arrow?
No, the criminal police named Fushimi is a monster; if she uses a crossbow arrow again, she’ll likely be the one getting killed.
Lock the basement door and leave them to their fate?
Generally, those in deep hypnosis can’t wake themselves up, even with intense external stimuli; Miyazaki Shizuka had resigned herself to letting it be — the problem was, last time she experimented with deep hypnosis, Fushimi Roku somehow woke himself up.
She didn’t know how Fushimi Roku did it, which is why she became intensely interested in this particular case. After entering the basement, she imposed stronger hypnosis instructions, making Fushimi Roku and Minamoto Tamako influence each other, trapping them in even deeper dreams.
But perhaps Fushimi Roku might wake up again, so she had to be guarded.
Miyazaki Shizuka pondered back and forth before deciding to take a risk and return to the basement. If she could steal Minamoto Tamako’s pink flip phone and then lock the basement door, even if Fushimi Roku woke up, he would be crying for help in vain, unable to last more than three days and would die of thirst in the basement.
If they ended up drinking each other’s urine, they might survive a few extra days but certainly not more than a week.
Miyazaki Shizuka took a deep breath and steeled herself to go back, the stairs creaking with every step, filling her with dread.
The basement remained dimly lit, with faint whispers suggesting that Fushimi Roku and Minamoto Tamako were influencing each other, muttering bizarre things in their dreams, appearing extremely eerie.
Miyazaki Shizuka knew they were giving each other suggestions and should be too preoccupied to notice her.
But she wasn’t entirely sure about Fushimi Roku’s condition; calming mentally ill patients wasn’t simple, often requiring physical restraint and medication treatment. She had little confidence relying solely on words.
What needed to be done had to be done; better to understand the truth and die in the evening than to leave her study unfinished and land in jail.
Moving forward step by step, Miyazaki Shizuka softly soothed, constantly emphasizing that she had no ill intentions, giving suggestions to Fushimi Roku.
Getting closer, she could vaguely hear Fushimi Roku talking to himself:
"Should we kill her? Better eliminate future trouble..."
"No, if we kill her, what about Tamako? What if she can’t wake up?"
"Translation Konjac..."
"I’m only eight, not into that kind of thing..."
Listening to this made Miyazaki Shizuka’s scalp crawl. In her many years of practice, she had seen countless patients, some extreme, some perverted, some mad... but never had she seen someone like Fushimi Roku, this insane yet still appearing normal.
How did this guy manage to do it?
Could he be a psychologist too?
Miyazaki Shizuka had no time to wrestle with such puzzles. She stretched out her guilty hand and touched Minamoto Tamako’s small phone.
Neither Fushimi Roku nor Minamoto Tamako reacted, which relieved Miyazaki Shizuka a little. She pulled out the ringing phone.