I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

He arrived at the foot of a building in the residential area.

"This is it."

He muttered to himself.

This is the residence of his target this time.

To be honest, he didn't like this development.

For him, killing was not a means, but an end.

After awakening to this hobby many years ago, he treated killing as a hobby, like watching movies or playing video games.

When addicted, one will keep killing, just like playing a video game and never being able to stop.

But he doesn't like what he's doing now.

Because now he has to kill someone, not because he wants to, but because he has no choice but to kill this person.

This person had seen his own face and connected it to the previous cases.

His years of hiding had been exposed, and this anger compelled him to kill the man.

I heard this person was an internet celebrity, what a pity.

He checked his gloves and the knife in his pocket; these were his companions.

Of course, he knew very well that the police might use this man as bait and a trap to capture him, but he couldn't contain his anger. If he couldn't kill this man immediately, he would be unable to eat or sleep.

He unlocked the door and entered the house without any problems.

He had observed the man's routine for a long time and knew that the man had just left home to have dinner and would not be back for a while.

He planned to hide in the closet, wait for the man to be caught off guard, then kill him, dismember him, rearrange and display him, just like those who had died at his hands before.

Years ago, after seeing that, he felt that he had wasted the past twenty-odd years of his life.

The real world is so within reach, yet I'm still wallowing in hypocritical relationships—what a waste!

He closed the door as if it had never been opened, and walked lightly across the living room toward the bedroom.

bang-

Suddenly, as he passed by the restroom, he heard a sound coming from there.

He immediately became alert and pulled out a folding knife from his pocket.

"Could it be that there's someone else?"

He remembered that this man was sometimes accompanied by a woman who lived in the same neighborhood. They seemed to be a couple. Could that woman be home now?

He looked toward the bathroom.

On the ground, a bottle of shampoo was still shaking slightly, as if it had just fallen from the shelf.

He stood at the doorway and checked; there was no one else in the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom.

There was indeed no one else.

"Blown by the wind?"

He went into the bathroom, bent down, and prepared to pick up the bottle of shampoo.

Just then, he was startled to see that there was an eye staring at him from the drain in the bathroom next to the shampoo bottle.

hum-

His heart skipped a beat, and he blinked, his eyes seeming to disappear again.

He looked closely at the drain and only noticed some wet women's hair nearby.

"Is it an illusion?"

He put the shampoo back on the shelf and turned to leave.

But the moment he turned his head, he saw that there seemed to be something extra in the bathroom mirror.

He stopped what he was doing.

Slowly, slowly, turn to look in the mirror.

The mirror reflected my image perfectly.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief.

But in the mirror, he grinned, revealing a sinister smile.

"!!!"

He took a half step back and rubbed his eyes.

He was still seeing himself in the mirror, with the exact same movements, but where did the smile come from?

"This is weird..."

He muttered something, walked out of the bathroom, and stepped into the bedroom.

The bedroom curtains were half-drawn, and the lights from the building across the street shone through, making it fairly bright.

He opened the wardrobe door, glanced inside, and hurriedly slipped inside.

As he closed the door, he felt himself enveloped in darkness.

Only then did he belatedly realize what was happening.

When I closed the closet door just now, was there anything left inside?

He felt his heart beating a little faster.

He's a person who doesn't believe in ghosts or gods.

If there really were ghosts, wouldn't those people I killed have already come back for revenge?

If I'm alright now, it means there are no ghosts in this world.

He offered a self-explanation.

Then, he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him from inside the wardrobe, right next to his face.

His eyes were yellowish, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, making him look ferocious and terrifying.

"!!!"

He instinctively pushed open the cabinet door, stumbled out, and collapsed to the ground.

Looking back, there was nothing in the closet except for clothes.

"Is it just my imagination?"

He turned around and found himself facing the area under the bed.

He saw that under the bed, a comical doll was slowly raising its head in the deep shadows, revealing a sinister smile. Its heavily made-up eyes were filled with venomous resentment, which was terrifying.

"grass!"

He couldn't help but swear, and immediately got up, wanting to leave the bedroom.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from under the bed and grabbed his trouser leg.

"Strange! Strange! Strange!"

He cursed a few times, shook off the hand, and hurriedly ran towards the gate.

This house is so eerie!!!

He decided to abandon his murder plan and wanted to leave the haunted house immediately.

But just as he turned the doorknob and before he could even push the door open, he felt something pressing down on his shoulder.

He instinctively turned around, and when he saw that thing, his voice caught in his throat, before he could utter it, he was pulled back by some force.

Only the slightly ajar door remained, awaiting its owner.

Chapter 116 What are you doing here?

"Name."

"...No way, officer, I'm the victim!"

"Victims also need to register their names."

“Lu Ban”.

"age."

"22 is old."

Lu Ban sat in the interrogation room of the police station, opposite his old acquaintances He Youwu and Chen Danshen.

"...I really didn't do anything, but he was like that when I got home."

He offered an explanation.

"Didn't I tell you to stay where you are and wait for us? Why did you climb over the wall? The security cameras caught it all!"

He Youwu said helplessly.

"I also want to contribute to social stability!"

Lu Ban spoke righteously, then remembered something and asked a question.

"How is that person?"

"What else could it be? He just woke up, but he keeps muttering about ghosts and spirits. He's probably trying to escape punishment by pretending to be mentally ill."

Chen Danshen did not hide anything.

"However, why did he put himself in your bathroom and try to smash the mirror with his head? Did you fight with him and that's why those marks were left? It's okay, don't worry, this is self-defense and you won't be sentenced."

"Officer, I really didn't do anything. It was like this when I got home. If you don't believe me, my friend can testify."

Lu Ban pointed to the side.

He Youwu looked over, and the place was empty; there was nothing there.

“…Lu Ban, although we know you have some minor mental issues, please be serious when giving your statement, as these will be recorded in your file.”