Old days, dice and investigator's manual

Chapter 135 Nursing Home (Part 1)

"Giving orders to the demon to wreak havoc does explain the current situation," Carlo said. "But it also raises the question of who gave the orders."

"Instead of that, let's go back to the third of the three questions you just raised: why didn't the city police find it? Because they didn't actually encounter that demon; it was in a spirit form."

"So, you can't see it without activating your spiritual vision?"

"To be more precise, you can't actively discover it without activating your spiritual vision. But this type of spirit, like the vengeful spirits you encountered before, can actively manifest itself or forcibly pull those who come into contact with it into a semi-spiritual vision state."

"The principle is that although most people's spiritual vision is in a passive and closed state, when a dangerous spirit approaches, a person's spiritual instincts realize the danger and can no longer ignore its presence. Thus, they will enter a state of being forced to activate their spiritual vision. The focus is usually only on the approaching spirit itself, accompanied by symptoms such as tinnitus, dizziness, and blurred vision."

Isaac realized that his tinnitus and blurred vision were caused by the demon's approach, which triggered a spiritual stress response and forced him to activate his semi-spiritual vision.

The demon's inherent cognitive and memory interference, combined with its semi-spiritual vision, makes it more likely to destroy a person's sanity than ordinary vengeful spirits.

Carlo continued, "As I just said, it's a pity you can't see my perspective. From my point of view, it's quite interesting, because when you opened the door, I saw it was tucked up in the ceiling."

"—Hidden there?"

"That's right, it looks like a chandelier, but unfortunately it doesn't light up."

"It didn't move until you walked into the room. First, it closed the door, then it came closer to you, as slowly as if it had just woken up and didn't know where the alarm clock was."

Isaac pondered, neither lunging at him immediately nor showing obvious hostility—although its inherent effects were already offensive, which seemed to imply two things.

First, the order given to it was not unconditional killing; it was programmed to attack only under specific conditions. Otherwise, let alone waiting for me to arrive, even if it were the city police, it would be torn to pieces like everyone else in the corridor.

Secondly, it reacts to itself, but the city police clearly did not encounter it, indicating that it has something about itself that attracts demons.

Isaac shared his guess, and Carlo clicked his tongue and said, "It seems that the demon fell in love with you at first sight."

"Well----"

"But it could be something else," Carlo said. "Let's get back to the second question, whether that thing has always been here or was brought here by someone. I have a guess now."

"What conjecture?"

"We need to confirm a few things first. The director's office is on the fourth floor. Go and take a look."

After confirming that there was no movement, Isaac walked to the top of the stairs and went upstairs.

The layout of the fourth floor was similar to the two floors below. He walked along the corridor and saw a copper plaque hanging on a door, which read "Dean's Office".

He gripped the doorknob, pressed it, and locked it again. It was probably because after the dean was taken away, the city police locked the office directly to save themselves the trouble of having someone watch over it.

The door is about to open again. Do I have to go through negotiations with the neighbor across the street again?

As Isaac was thinking, he heard Carlo say, "Assa, say something."

"What did you say?"

Just say, "Go and unlock the lock in front of me."

2

"what?"

"Hehe, what are you staring at? Do you think I'm the kind of person who would joke around at a crucial moment?"

"Why doesn't it look like it?!"

Isaac cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "Go and unlock the door."

There was no response, no movement. Just as Isaac was about to say that it seemed useless, a click came from inside the door lock.

The lock is open.

"—What happened?"

"Because we have a new friend."

"A friend?"

"The sanity immunity only suppressed the cognitive and memory interference caused by that demon and the forcibly activated semi-spiritual vision, but the demon itself didn't disappear. Guess where it is?"

Isaac paused, realizing the meaning of those words.

The demon had been beside him the whole time, but he couldn't see it now. The lock he'd just opened was clearly opened with the demon's help.

"Tsk tsk, look how scared you are. It hasn't done anything yet, and it even helped us unlock the door."

Isaac was speechless for a moment.

"So you'd better get used to having something watching you from behind, and it will keep following you until—who knows how long that will be."

Why is it following me?

"Maybe it's the 14 o'clock charm that's working its magic? But the answer to this question might be in the office. Go in and look for any records, like the guest register, or something, to see who used to live in that devil's hut."

Isaac took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and walked into the office.

The bookshelves against the office wall were crammed with folders and pamphlets. Isaac approached and scanned the spines of the books; there were ledgers and purchasing lists, as well as some pamphlets labeled "Employee Files" and "Visitor Records."

He took down several booklets labeled "Check-in Registration," placed them on the table, and opened the most recent one.

This record, dating back to the beginning of this year, includes details such as the date of admission, name, gender, room number, and remarks. It is so complete that, considering the actual situation of this nursing home, Isaac suspects it was specifically created to audit the accounts of unsuspecting donors.

He flipped through a few pages and noticed that the guests were all assigned to the first and second floors, but there were no entries for the third floor. He continued flipping through the book, but there were no entries for the third-floor guests in the entire book.

Isaac picked up the previous volume, the previous year's records. The situation was similar: the first and second floors were functioning normally, but the third floor was still blank.

He flipped through five or six volumes, until he reached one from seven years ago. In that year's records, there were occasional guest names on the third floor, but only a few scattered ones.

As for that room, it remained unoccupied.

By the eighth booklet, the handwriting was noticeably different from the later records, and the name in the dean's signature column had changed, indicating that the dean had been replaced seven years ago.

He flipped to the corresponding page on the third floor, and this time, he finally saw who had moved into that room.

Nesir Ellersha.

Isaac's gaze shifted to the remarks section, which read: Suspected dementia, unable to communicate normally, occasional panic attacks. Referral from the City Hall welfare department, with assistance from the NYPD's Third Precinct. No family contact records; long-term care recommended.

"This person—"

"Elsa, I see."

"Hmm? You know him?"

"I know him. He wrote to me nine years ago, saying he wanted my help, but I never saw him or received any more letters from him. I thought he had died somewhere, but I never expected him to be living here."