absurd deduction game.

Yu Xing's gaze quickly swept across the entire space.

The interior of Lighthouse Bookstore is more spacious than it appears from the outside.

The high ceiling likely corresponds to the second floor of the building, with exposed dark wooden beams that appear rustic and sturdy.

The walls were filled with towering, dark wooden bookshelves, crammed full of books, like silent barriers of knowledge. The bookshelves were clearly and neatly categorized—history, literature, science, geography, folklore… everything was included.

Soft, slightly orange light streams from the elegantly designed brass wall lamps and hanging glass chandeliers, casting warm dappled patterns on the smooth wooden floor. Several heavy solid wood desks and comfortable leather armchairs for readers are scattered throughout the space.

Everything looked orderly, peaceful, and even elegant.

The only sound in the air was the regular ticking of an old-fashioned clock in the distance, which made the place seem even more peaceful.

However, it is precisely this excessive normalcy and tranquility that, at such times, becomes the most abnormal signal.

Good evening, welcome to Lighthouse Bookstore.

A gentle, slightly magnetic male voice broke the silence.

A young male clerk wearing a fitted vest and a bow tie emerged from behind a bookshelf near the inside.

He was in his early twenties, with his hair neatly combed and a standard smile on his face that was just right—neither overly enthusiastic nor dismissive.

His movements were fluid and natural, and he approached with light steps.

"These three guests look unfamiliar. Is this your first time visiting our bookstore? How can I help you?" His gaze swept quickly over Yu Xing, Qu Xianqing, and Lingren, his eyes clear and professional, revealing nothing unusual.

Yu Xing noticed that the clerk's face still looked too pale and bloodless under the warm light, as if he had been indoors for a long time without sunlight. However, his demeanor and tone of voice were impeccable, perfectly befitting the image of a well-trained clerk working in a high-end bookstore.

However, this was a night still shrouded in chaos and danger, making the clerk's reaction strange enough.

"We'll just take a look around," Yu Xing said, her voice calm and devoid of any emotion.

He deliberately let his gaze reveal a hint of interest in books, scanning the nearest bookshelf.

“Yes, learn about the history and customs of Yolikev,” Qu Xianqing added from the side, her tone colder than Yu Xing’s.

The actor didn't speak. He simply nodded slightly, a faint, somewhat aloof smile on his face. His gaze, however, seemed to wander aimlessly among the bookshelves, as if admiring the interior decor or searching for something else.

"Ah, the history and folklore section is over there." The clerk smiled and turned to the side, pointing to a relatively separate area on the right side of the bookstore. "Our bookstore has a very rich collection of books about the local area, ranging from town chronicles to some folk manuscripts. Please feel free to browse. If you need any help, just call me."

His guidance was clear and unambiguous, and his attitude was impeccable.

Yu Xing nodded, said no more, and walked towards the area the shop assistant pointed to.

Qu Xianqing and the actor followed, but the three of them did not gather together. Instead, they naturally kept a distance from each other, pretending to be readers attracted by different books.

Although they did not actually conceal their identities as "investigators," they were actually playing the role of "unprofessional investigators who were not very skilled at disguising themselves as readers."

The shop assistant stood still, watching them disperse, her smile remaining as standard as ever.

He didn't immediately retreat to the counter, nor did he follow closely behind. He simply stood there quietly, calmly observing the store, and blinked.

Yu Xing walked towards the history and folk customs area, his fingertips brushing against the spines of thick books, making a slight friction sound. His senses spread outwards from him like invisible ripples.

Upon entering the bookstore, his senses shifted from being blocked out to being trapped inside.

The wood grain of the bookshelf, the smell of the paper, the temperature of the light, the ticking of the clock... every detail was captured in his mind.

He tried to capture any discordant energy fluctuations, any trace of the cold, deathly aura of the "Corpse Heart," or any trace of the filth of Tantric Buddhism.

However, no.

At least in this open area, everything is unbelievably "clean".

The books were genuine books, the knowledge was solidified knowledge, and even the faint incense contained no trace of evil. This place seemed to be a sanctuary of knowledge that had been absolutely purified, completely separated from the world outside that was polluted by the chaotic rain.

This “cleanliness” is itself the biggest anomaly.

Qu Xianqing stopped near the center of the bookstore, where there was a rotating bookshelf displaying some newly arrived popular novels and picture books.

She casually picked up a book and started flipping through it, but out of the corner of her eye, she kept an eye on the clerk's movements, as well as the direction of the bookstore entrance and the stairs leading to the second floor.

The performer then strolled over to the area near the books on philosophy and religion.

His long, slender fingers traced the weighty tomes that explored divinity and existence, a playful expression on his face. Occasionally, he would pull out a book, quickly flip through a few pages, and then casually put it back, as if his interest came and went quickly.

After a while, he finally picked out an interesting one, sat down, and started reading.

The shop assistant finally moved.

He walked to a smaller service counter near the door, sat down, took a soft cloth from a drawer, and began to slowly wipe a fine brass inkwell on the counter.

The movements were focused and gentle, almost silent.

The entire bookstore then fell into that almost frozen silence once again.

The only sounds were the rustling of turning pages, the eternal ticking of the clock, and... a subtle tension that was almost imperceptible beneath the surface of everything being normal.

Yu Xing pulled out a thick book, "The Chronicle of Yolikev Town, Volume Three," from the bookshelf and pretended to read it. The pages were yellowed and had a sense of age. The content was a record of the town's early industrial development, dry but real.

Many of the powerful families mentioned by Fernalf have their names added to the book, and details of history are vaguely revealed.

Having discussed their plan of action beforehand, the three, despite their differing thoughts, were quite in sync and chose a location that formed a triangle.

Yu Xing's gaze lingered for a moment on the yellowed pages of the "Yorlikev Town Chronicle," a hint of boredom on his face, as if defeated by the tedium, unable to finish reading the chronicle like most people in the town.

He closed the book, gently placed it back in its original position, his fingertips lingered briefly on the spine, and then, as if casually, walked deeper into the historical and folk culture area.

There, two rows of tall oak bookshelves stood side by side, like silent giants, with an unusually narrow passage between them, barely wide enough for one person to pass through.

The bookshelves stretched from floor to floor, almost touching the ceiling, and were crammed with thick, obscure classics. The gilded lettering on the spines appeared somewhat blurry in the dim light. The light in the depths of the passageway was noticeably dimmer, with only a few slivers of light seeping from the main area in the distance, barely outlining the layers of books.

This was a cramped corner, easily overlooked. Yu Xing's footsteps were light, barely making a sound on the smooth wooden floor.

He stepped into the narrow passage, his figure instantly swallowed up by the shadows cast by the towering bookshelves on both sides. The space suddenly contracted here, and the air seemed to become more stagnant, carrying the unique smell of old paper and dust.

He stopped in the middle of the aisle and casually pulled a book from the bookshelf next to him.

The book had a dark blue hard cover with no title and was cold to the touch. He didn't open it, but simply held it in his hand, as if weighing it, or perhaps using this action to blend himself into the environment.

His back was to the entrance of the passage, yet his senses, like an open spider web, stretched out to the extreme in all directions from him.

He could "hear" the unchanging ticking of a distant clock, so regular it was suffocating.

He could "hear" the extremely faint rustling sound of Qu Xianqing occasionally turning the pages of the comic book in the central area. Her aura was very real, and if no one knew the truth, no one would have thought that her body was just a puppet.

He could "hear" the actor on the philosophy bookshelf turning pages at a slightly faster pace, interspersed with a few barely audible humming tunes.

He could also "hear" the subtle friction sound of the shop assistant wiping brass utensils with a soft cloth behind the service counter at the door—steady, continuous, and with an almost rigid focus.

Everything sounded so normal.

Hmm... the monster in the bookstore hasn't made a move yet.

Yu Xing's fingertips unconsciously rubbed against the cold book cover.

The problem here is not pollution, nor malice, but a kind of... emptiness.

A mechanical sense of repetition lacking genuine passion for life.

For example, the clerk wiping the inkwell at the entrance—his movements were so perfect, like a pre-programmed routine, his presence as stable as a piece of furniture in the bookstore, rather than a living person.

A faint chill permeated the entire space; it was not a temperature chill, but an essential coldness stemming from the extinguishing of the flame of life.

Yu Xing's gaze fell into the depths of the passage, into a darker shadow, where some rarely used documents or new books waiting to be put on the shelves were piled up haphazardly against the wall.

He thought for a moment, then walked straight over, making himself disappear from Qu Xianqing and the actor's sight.

Time flowed slowly in the silence.

Several minutes passed, or perhaps longer.

Apart from the "normal" background noise, nothing unusual happened. No staff came to disturb us, no other "customers" appeared, and even the dust on the bookshelves seemed to have frozen in time.

It's almost 3 a.m. now. The silence amplifies every tiny sound and also amplifies people's fear of the unknown.

Yu Xing was getting a little tired of standing, so she clicked her tongue and slightly adjusted her posture, allowing her peripheral vision to catch a glimpse of the small patch of floor at the entrance of the passage illuminated by the external lights.

There was nothing there, only the wood grain was clearly visible.

The clock ticked away, counting down the time at a leisurely pace.

Qu Xianqing seemed to have moved. The sound of her flipping through the picture album stopped, replaced by extremely light footsteps. She was moving closer to the historical and folk customs area, perhaps as an invisible support.

The sound of turning pages on the actor's side also stopped.

He seemed to have lost interest in the philosophy book, and the sound of the book being gently closed and placed back on the shelf could be heard.

Then came the barely audible sound of his shoes hitting the floor; he seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the bookstore, his direction elusive.

Just as Yu Xing's attention was diverted by the two of them... a voice rang out behind him without warning.

"gentlemen."

It was the shop assistant's voice.

He was gentle, clear, and professionally polite, just as he had been when he greeted the three of them earlier.

But the sound came from too close.

So close it felt as if the person speaking was right behind his ear, their breath almost brushing against the side of his neck.

Yu Xing's muscles tensed instinctively in a fraction of a second, but he forcefully suppressed them, showing no sign of anything amiss.

Following his most natural reaction, he slowly turned around, his movements unhurried, as if he were merely a reader who had been disturbed, with a slight displeasure at being interrupted.

"what happened?"

In the instant he turned around, his vision caught sight of what was behind him.

The male shop assistant arrived silently, standing less than half a meter away from him.

His face still wore that standard, perfectly curved smile, his eyes were clear, even carrying a hint of inquiry, and his hands hung naturally at his sides without any unnecessary movements.

too close.

Even with enhanced awareness, the store clerk still managed to move such a large distance without being noticed.

It had far exceeded the safe limits of normal social interaction, filled with an unspoken aggression. However, against the backdrop of the shop assistant's impeccable expression and posture, this aggression was distorted into a kind of... excessive enthusiasm, or rather, a chilling "focus".

"Perhaps you would like to see other works by this author?" The shop assistant smiled, his gaze falling on the dark blue, untitled book in Yu Xing's hands. His tone was natural and fluent. "We also have some of this author's lesser-known research notes in our store, but they are kept in storage. If you are interested, I can go and get them for you."

Yu Xing's gaze met his for a moment.

Deep within those seemingly clear eyes, he caught a faint, almost imperceptible emptiness, as if behind that smiling mask lay nothing but emptiness, devoid of thought or emotion, only a pre-programmed sequence of events.

“No need,” Yu Xing said with a smile. “I was just flipping through it casually. The content is a bit difficult and not suitable for me. I’d rather read something simple and easy to understand.”

"I see." The shop assistant nodded readily, her smile unchanged. "Then I won't bother you any longer. Please take your time looking around, and feel free to call me if you need anything."

As he spoke, the instant Yu Xing turned his head back, a knife appeared in his hand. (End of Chapter)