Chapter 72: Surprise

Chu Ning placed the envelope on the brown wooden desk and used a simple tool he’d fashioned to gently open it. Such cautious behavior had made Tanya mock him for quite a while, and, as it turned out, she was right—there simply weren’t as many conspiracies in the world as he imagined, nor were there people dedicated to framing him for a living.

"Nothing happened?" Tanya asked.

Chu Ning eyed the envelope suspiciously. For a close friend not to leave him any surprises—it was almost too mundane to be real. He’d half expected a lethal poisonous mist to billow out, or for Wang Jinkai’s soul to spring from the envelope, asking if Chu Ning had any last wishes he could generously grant.

This kind of ordinary development was nothing like the daily routine in a world of the supernatural!

Inside the envelope was an utterly ordinary letter, written on common white paper—no bizarre colors like red ink, which he now realized was a testament to his previously dreadful taste.

"Come on, can’t you have a little faith in the world? Stop being so paranoid! After all, Wang Jinkai was your brother—do you really think he’d harm you?" Tanya watched in exasperation as Chu Ning, wearing anti-corrosion gloves, carefully pinched one corner of the letter and spread it out flat on the table. He then picked up a magnifying glass he’d prepared in advance, solemnly searching for hidden traps within the letter.

Honestly, the last time Tanya had seen such prudence was when watching archaeologists discover books in a tomb—carefully handling and collecting them as historical artifacts. Given how easily such ancient books could crumble with time, their caution was justified; once damaged, relics are nearly impossible to restore, not to mention their monetary value.

Chu Ning’s actions, however, were a clear case of making a mountain out of a molehill—he seemed as though his mind was decaying with age, like those crumbling old books.

"It’s precisely because Wang Jinkai was my brother that I’m being this careful," Chu Ning replied cryptically, flashing a mysterious smile without further explanation. After all, there are always disputes between brothers over money or their parents’ inheritance.

The letter Wang Jinkai left for Chu Ning read:

By the time you see this letter, I may already be dead. This is no joke, and today is not April Fool’s Day—this is my will, written in advance.

Our transaction can be considered canceled. From now on, there are no debts between us. Don’t come looking for me for goods—I won’t be able to provide them even if I wanted to, so there’s no point exhausting yourself trying to find me.

To be honest, I’ve realized I still have a bit of a conscience left, and that’s rather pathetic. Once I accepted this, I knew my end was near. Each time I provided you with a female sacrifice, the guilt inside me grew deeper.

Perhaps I’m being melodramatic, and I shouldn’t be whining about these trivial things. But if I don’t find something to talk about, life just feels too awkward. The day I met Lan Ying, my urge to become a better person grew stronger than ever.

Lan Ying is the beautiful woman on the diary’s illustration—the one who was supposed to be your trade item. I hope you won’t mind this breach of contract; I have no regrets about it.

Days after meeting Lan Ying, I realized I’d been poisoned. I’m not telling you this to ask for revenge. I know who did it—there’s no need to trouble you.

But my desire for revenge isn’t strong, because she’s pregnant, carrying new hope. I feel like my life has regained its color—become vivid once more!

Since then, I started to put my affairs in order, preparing a tomb to hide my remains and tools to destroy evidence.

I bought a sofa involved in a supernatural incident from the organizers of "Horror Adventure." The sofa was exactly as advertised—no fraud.

They even demonstrated how to use it, and seeing that, I knew it was exactly what I was looking for.

That sofa, like the one in the villa on the northern outskirts, has irremediable flaws, but also serves a very useful purpose.

Chu Ning’s eyes followed the lines down the page, genuinely curious to see what Wang Jinkai had to say before his death.

To watch one’s body waste away day by day, with no way to stop it—that sort of despair is overwhelming.

Still, I’m lucky to see new life growing. That’s my only motivation to keep going.

I really wanted to ask Lan Ying for the antidote, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I know my body too well—there’s no cure for me.

She doesn’t want me to recover either. Waiting quietly for death is fine.

Everyone is waiting for my death—it’s like the climax of some great drama, and everyone is anticipating the final curtain.

By the way, I’ve left you a little gift. Make sure you find it! The clue is right beside this letter—it should be obvious enough. I know your deduction skills aren’t great, so I didn’t make it hard for you.

The letter was brief. Chu Ning thought Wang Jinkai’s repentance came too late—putting his affairs in order only shortly before death seemed rushed. Even at the end, Wang Jinkai never begged Chu Ning for anything, preserving his last bit of pride.

"Some people just won’t see the truth until they’re at the edge of the grave. Isn’t it a bit late to start settling your affairs now?" Chu Ning muttered, but he couldn’t bring himself to criticize Wang Jinkai’s choices. Everyone has their own principles, and it’s hard to plan someone else’s life for them.

Some things are easy to say, but people prefer to shoulder the burden alone. The poster in the villa, which described the mission, was likely the reason Wang Jinkai had called. Needing help but refusing to ask for it—that was unlike Wang Jinkai. When had he changed his ways? Chu Ning suspected that the final call from Wang Jinkai wasn’t actually from him.

There was a contradiction. Based on the clues, Wang Jinkai had died before completing the transaction with Tanya—he’d never even met her. In other words, the person handling the deal was probably Lan Ying; she was the only one with the opportunity.

"Did you notice the promotional poster for ‘Horror Adventure’?" Chu Ning asked.

Tanya rolled her eyes. How could she not have noticed? The blatant disturbance was impossible to forget.

"Of course. What are you trying to ask?"

Seeing her reaction, Chu Ning realized he’d been misunderstood. He wasn’t asking Tanya to recall painful memories—he wanted to focus on the two different versions of the poster they’d seen. There were subtle differences in the content, and that was his point.

The one at Tanya’s house didn’t mention the next mission, but the later one did, clearly hinting at what was to come. These small discrepancies pointed to something truly unsettling.

Chu Ning explained his observations, but Tanya still seemed only half convinced. He decided to spell out the dangers so she’d understand the peril they were in.

"Lan Ying may have set a trap for us. If she made that call, and there’s a recent poster in the villa—have you ever seen someone deliberately walk into a trap, knowing it was there?"

"Sorry, but I have," Tanya replied with an awkward smile. She knew it wasn’t the time to quibble, but honesty compelled her—she couldn’t pretend otherwise.

And the person in question was right in front of her—how awkward!

Chu Ning glared at her. He shouldn’t have asked. He should have just stated outright—they were being set up by someone with malicious intent. Sometimes bluntness is best, and sure enough, Tanya finally realized the gravity of their predicament.

Still, Tanya felt Chu Ning was stating the obvious. From the moment they first saw the poster, they’d agreed it was a trap, luring people in. All Chu Ning had done was reiterate what they already knew, and he’d even gone off on a tangent in the process.

"Let’s move on to the next step," Chu Ning said with a blank expression, though his trembling hands betrayed his nerves.

As long as you don’t feel awkward, it’s the others who’ll feel awkward instead.

They hadn’t found much valuable information in the villa. Tanya was still clutching a crumpled pamphlet—more accurately, a sofa user manual, explaining how to use it safely.

A sofa is an everyday object, harmless to most—but there are always those who, skirting the edge of death, find ways to tempt fate while lounging on a sofa.

Chu Ning unfolded the manual. It described the strange, pristine white sofa in the living room, made from a highly active biological material. The sofa would actively decompose corpses—a must-have for your home!

If you want to destroy evidence more efficiently, the Bowl Sofa is your best choice!

Special Note: Be sure to feed the sofa regularly to satisfy its basic needs. This will ensure it serves you well! If left unfed for long periods, the sofa will automatically disassemble and enter hunting mode, actively seeking out meat.

Just then, a rustling sound and the faint crunch of chewing drifted up from the lower level of the villa. Chu Ning stared stiffly downward, suddenly realizing what surprise Wang Jinkai had left for him.

To be honest, he was indeed frightened—and he couldn’t say where the joy was supposed to come in.