"What the hell... ha..."

April 4th. Time unknown.

I sat at the entrance of a bookstore, staring at a book I couldn’t focus on at all.

"Now I’m completely late..."

I pulled a slender gift box from my coat and glanced at it, frustration weighing me down.

Why did this even happen? No—scratch that. I didn’t even understand what *had* happened.

I looked back at the empty bookstore, then at the deserted street ahead. A chilling sense of abandonment washed over me.

No people. Not a single soul anywhere.

The uncle who’d given me directions earlier had vanished long ago. Dark clouds smothered the sky, threatening rain that never fell—just a heavy, suffocating gloom.

It felt like a horror movie trope: everyone but the protagonist erased, a bustling shopping street turned ghost town overnight.

If this was some prank show or reality TV stunt, the director deserved an Oscar.

Because I was genuinely scared.

This place... this street was *wrong*.

I wished it were just paranoia. But my danger radar? It never failed—especially when I needed it to.

I wanted to call for help, but my phone had no signal.

No signal. In the middle of a city. That alone was bizarre.

Turns out, I couldn’t leave.

Not that I was lost. I was *trapped*.

At first, I panicked, sprinting down main roads, darting into alleys—nowhere led out of this street.

Finally, I barged into a house, jumped out a window... and landed right back on the same damn street.

Was this even my city anymore? Did it hide places like this? How could I escape?

At this point, common sense was useless.

This felt exactly like the ghost-blocking-walls phenomenon from old legends.

Lately, weird stuff followed me everywhere. Succubi. Undead Corpses. Ghosts? Why not.

I tried every internet trick I knew: walking then turning ninety degrees, spitting into the air... I almost whipped out my dick to pee on the street—except, y’know, morals. Even with no one around.

Needless to say, none of it worked. Or I wouldn’t still be here.

Logically, a ghost should show up next.

*C’mon*, anything! Just *happen* already! I can’t stand this place another second!

Besides... Jilianbing’s birthday party must be wrapping up by now...

—*Master Cheng, if you don’t come... heh heh heh. You know what happens when I’m unhappy, right?*

...Maybe staying trapped wasn’t so bad after all.

Somehow, escaping now felt like trading one horror for another—a very *female* ghost.

"*Sigh*..."

Another heavy sigh escaped me. I’d lost track of time. My phone had died hours ago.

I’d given up. Whatever happened next, I’d leave it to fate.

Then—the bookstore door behind me slid open. I lost my balance and tumbled backward.

Huh? What was this?

Amidst the dimness, a sacred white glow radiated from the center.

Slender, smooth calves. Toned thighs with zero excess fat. A firm, rounded backside hugged by pure white panties, tracing a silhouette that painted the rest in my mind...

*Small chest. Slim waist. Definitely a childlike figure.*

Middle schooler? No—elementary?

The thin fabric fluttered in the breeze.

Wait. Was this... *under her skirt*?

"Juncheng."

Huh?

That voice! Familiar. Trustworthy. The first friend whose title had recently shifted from green to blue—Jiang Xueqing.

"Xueqing!"

I scrambled up. Sure enough, it was her.

Xueqing’s face remained utterly blank. Even after I’d just peeped under her skirt.

What was wrong with girls these days? Did shame just... vanish?

"Why."

"Huh? Why what?"

"Here?"

Ah. She meant: *Why are you here?*

"I don’t know! I just wandered onto this street and can’t leave... Do you know what’s going on?"

"... ..."

Ugh. Silent again.

Meeting someone familiar was great, but this got me nowhere. How could she explain anything when she barely spoke?

"Dangerous. Here."

"I knew it! This place feels... off. Unsettling."

Xueqing nodded, then pointed at herself.

"Take you. Out."

Hearing such certainty, I leapt up, grabbed her hands, and shook them gratefully.

"Really?! You can get me out?! You’re a lifesaver!"

Thank god! I didn’t care *where* this was—I just needed to escape!

"Payment."

Of course. She always said that.

Lately, after helping me, she’d demand payment. I’d gotten used to it.

"Ah, right. Hair again? Hold on."

She’d helped me a few times this week. Each time, she only wanted my hair—not meals or books like I’d offered. Only once did she ask for fingernails.

The cost was trivial to me, but it still felt... off. Still, *don’t impose your values on others*. I wouldn’t force her to change.

I yanked out a handful of hair—about twenty strands. She usually took ten, but extra wouldn’t hurt.

*It’s just hair*, I thought.

Xueqing gently shook her head, rejecting the strands in my outstretched hand.

"No. Hair."

"Huh? Not hair this time?"

She nodded, still expressionless.

"Hair. Enough."

"Okay... what do you want then?"

Maybe she finally realized hair was worthless. *Please*, ask for something normal—a dress? A plushie? Cash? Cash felt impersonal, but it was practical.

Her next move shattered that hope.

She extended her snow-pale hand, pointing her left index finger at the surface of her right index fingernail.

"Nails."

"*Nails*..."

She nodded.

*Still body parts?!*

A chill slithered down my spine. *Nails today... what tomorrow?*

No. It couldn’t escalate to... *that*.

"But I gave you nails last time..."

"Not enough. More."

Problem was—I’d given her *all* my clipped nails last time. My nails were already stubs. Nothing left to cut.

Time for excuses.

"Sorry, I don’t have clippers on me. And..."

Before I finished, Xueqing pulled a nail clipper from her pocket and held it out.

I took it awkwardly, forcing out the rest.

"My nails haven’t grown back yet... Can I give them to you later?"

*Shake*.

She’d never refused me before.

"How about after we leave?"

A sharp, decisive *shake*.

"Or... a different request?"

*Shake*.

"*Now*?"

*Nod*.

Her face showed zero emotion. Impossible to read. Did she even *have* feelings?

As her so-called friend, I could sometimes guess her meaning—but never her heart.

"Nails. Give me."

"How? A whole... *piece*?"

"... ..." *Nod*.

She *nodded*!

She wanted an entire fingernail ripped off!

"*All* nails."

*ALL* of them?!

Ripping out every nail on my body? That wasn’t payment—that was torture!

"Give."

She stepped closer. Removed her glasses.

"I want."

Her voice was firmer than usual. Louder.

"Give me your nails."

For the first time, she showed emotion—raw, terrifying *obsession*.

I didn’t know what she craved. But my instincts screamed *danger*.

No logic needed. My body knew:

*Jiang Xueqing wasn’t my ally.*

No—that wasn’t quite right. Her title *was* blue.

Proof she trusted me completely.

But that trust had opened a door.

Letting her true self bleed through.

Revealing values no normal person could accept.

"...Tch."

I stumbled backward.

Then turned—and ran.

Pathetic? Maybe. But staying meant disaster.

"*Of course*... it always ends like this!"

I screamed the words, my lungs burning with regret and frustration.

Footsteps followed. Light. Slow. Easy to lose.

But I was still trapped in this ghost-blocking-walls hell. No escape.

No matter how much I ran—

No matter how much I ran—

No matter how much I ran—

Those faint footsteps never faded.

The moment I slowed, they crept closer. Like a ghost glued to my shadow.

She knew this place like her backyard.

Her pace was steady, efficient. While I flailed like a headless fly, she’d catch me the second my stamina broke.

"What the actual hell?!"

Regret flooded me.

*If only I hadn’t taken that shortcut to Jilianbing’s party...*

*If only I hadn’t gone gift-shopping with my sisters yesterday...*

*If only I hadn’t replied to those weird texts last night...*

But the world has every fruit—except the fruit of "if."

Truth was, I knew why this happened.

Xueqing and Lianbing were both twisted. I’d sensed it. Ignored it.

I deserved half the blame for this mess.

God, I wished I could slap my past self twice. How could I be so stupid?!

Yes, it all should have begun... on the last day of March.