Am I really hallucinating?

Chapter 622 The Sculptor

The appointment record displayed on Lin Yilin's computer showed that the other party was a sculptor named Chashilu. Based on the other party's self-description, Lin Yilin speculated that the other party was a person with supernatural abilities.

However, Chassilu is currently relatively unknown because his sculpting style is quite unusual and has not yet gained recognition, only having a small circle of fame.

After a period of self-study, Mo Mang has gained some understanding of these supernatural terms.

“Yes, as I mentioned when I made the appointment, my inspiration has started to become very strange since the earthquake. At first, I just thought it was because I was a little mentally disoriented due to the disaster, but then I found that the things I sculpted gradually began to lose my own control… I know my style is inherently strange; it was originally my comfort zone. I didn’t want to follow the crowd, you could say I was unconventional. But now even my own works are making me feel uncomfortable.” Chaxilu scratched the other person’s arms with both hands, his eyes glancing warily out the window at everyone passing by.

"Did that strange inspiration gradually intensify over time after the earthquake?" Mo Mang asked.

“Yes. There was another particularly strong peak about a month after the earthquake. I endured it for a long time, but recently I finally couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to seek help…” Chasilu said anxiously.

Looking at the other person's heavy dark circles, eye bags, and bloodshot eyes, Mo Mang felt that he was quite convincing.

"Then why did you come so urgently before the appointment time? Did something urgent or dangerous happen?" Mo Mang continued to ask the key question.

Chaxilu swallowed hard, his eyes darting around, his neck shrinking back. It seemed that even speaking about it aloud was something he felt extremely insecure about.

Mo Mang wasn't in a hurry, even though Lin Yilin had told him that every client was a troublemaker and that if he didn't put appropriate pressure on them, they would either stammer or talk nonsense. Some clients even couldn't speak coherently, which would be a complete waste of time.

In short, Lin Yilin seems to be a rather demanding type of person when it comes to her clients. Mo Mang can understand this, but his personality makes it difficult for him to be assertive, so he chooses to treat her gently.

“My sculpture has come to life,” Chaxilu said carefully, enunciating each word slowly.

Mo Mang remained expressionless, reaching out to touch the toast beside him as a gesture of friendliness.

“I know this sounds crazy, but they really are alive!” Chasilu raised his voice slightly, trying to make his words more credible.

“These past few days, I’ve been particularly uneasy. The sculptures in my house have been inexplicably stained with colors. At first, I thought it was the landlord’s child causing trouble—besides me, only the landlord’s family has a key to the room, and that child would steal the landlord’s key and sneak into my room to play, and he’s been disciplined many times but hasn’t changed his ways—but after inquiring, I confirmed that the naughty child has recently been sent to boarding school. As for the landlord himself, we are college classmates, and it’s unlikely that he would do such a thing,” Chaxilu recounted.

Do you keep paint at home?

“Yes, I do experiment with color combinations in my sculptures. The visual effect of combining shapes and colors is particularly strong. However, because I use them too aggressively, I don’t get good reviews in the industry… Do you think it’s possible that I did it unintentionally?” Chasilu realized what Mo Mang meant.

Mo Mang didn't hide anything: "I've heard that some artists with strong inspiration are like this; by the time they realize it, the work is already finished."

“I have to admit that there is such a saying, but I don’t think it’s anything good.” Chasilu’s expression was complicated. “If that’s all there is to it, I would probably think so too and be smug about it.”

"But today, after I finished work and lay down for a nap, when I woke up... there was a sculpture at the head of my bed. The part that I sculpted as the eyes seemed to be staring at me."

Mo Mang imagined the scene and it was indeed a bit creepy.

Let alone sculptures, just the thought of objects moving around in your own home that you don't remember is frightening enough.

However, when Mo Mang thought of the toast he was stroking, as well as the blanket spirit, Lu Lu shoes, and the noble coffee machine in Zero One Agency, he felt that it wasn't so scary after all.

"I ran out of my house to find you right away. Please, please help me! I still have a lot of savings!" Chaxilu said anxiously.

Mo Mang couldn't decide on the price; he was already wondering when Zheng Fan would arrive.

"Don't worry, since I've been assigned to handle your case, it means I'm ready to take on your request. I'm just a receptionist for now; the person who can actually solve your problem is on their way. After all, your arrival was a bit too sudden." Mo Mang spoke like a very humane customer service representative, her words easily putting people at ease.

Chasilu nodded his thanks quickly, then continued to absentmindedly drink his coffee and observe the view outside the window.

Mo Mang, on the other hand, edited and transcribed the entire conversation and forwarded it to Lin Yilin and Zheng Fan. He also kept a copy of the recording; he did everything impeccably.

It's no wonder Lin Yilin really wanted him to officially join the company, but unfortunately Mo Mang insisted on only doing freelance part-time work.

Suddenly, Toast abruptly and openly sprang to life, waking up from its hibernation mode with a loud "Awooo!"

Chasilu's gaze sharpened as he watched the toast suddenly move. Before he could even express his surprise, a chill ran down his spine. Looking down, he saw the reflection of the black coffee he was holding behind him: a strange, distorted, humanoid statue had appeared there sometime earlier.

The exposed organs make it look like a human model, but the limbs are not standard at all. The legs are shaped like horseshoes, and the hand is holding a submachine gun that looks like it was made from a human spine. The patterns on it are so exquisite that they look like the real thing, but the conspicuous and somewhat chaotic colors added to its body make the sense of incongruity even more prominent.

But it's just a sculpture.

Mo Mang froze in his seat.

He had no idea when the thing appeared behind Chassilu.

"Mr. Chaxilu, calm down. Now carefully move out of your seat little by little and come to my side." Although the scene was very strange and he was very uneasy, Mo Mang's face remained unmoved. He spoke clearly and slowly, giving instructions to the completely stunned Chaxilu in front of him, and gently beckoned him.

Chasilu was drenched in sweat, his hand holding the coffee cup trembled violently, spilling some coffee, and his pupils were also dizzy. However, his reaction was already quite good; at least he didn't jump up on the spot.

The sculpture behind him stood there silently without making any further moves, while Chacilu carefully began to move according to Moman's instructions.

As he bent over and stood up from his seat and moved to the side of the table.

Mo Mang suddenly slammed his hand on the table.

The toast leaped up instantly, a flash of crimson light appearing.

Clang clang clang!
"Ouch!?"

Toast said that he had just finished upgrading, so shouldn't he be given some face?

It's one thing to be unable to defeat the "wholesaler" that the anti-boss talks about, but how come a sculpture can withstand its previous powerful attacks without even getting hurt?

Meanwhile, Mo Mang pulled Chasilu along, and as they passed the front desk, they slapped down some money and ran straight out of the coffee shop.

Clerk:?
what happened?

Then the young female shop assistant watched as a piece of toast darted past her like a yellow-skinned mouse.

Shop assistant: ? ?

Then, another bizarre sculpture, so convincing it could be a monster in a horror movie, suddenly appeared before them. Its stiff neck turned, glanced at the shop assistant, and then vanished in the blink of an eye.

Clerk:? ? ?
"Xiao Chen, it's time for your shift change," another, more experienced employee called out. "You can go home now."

The young woman lowered her head and remained silent for a moment. After tidying up the things at the front desk and handing over her work, she left. She quietly changed back into her personal clothes in the staff changing room before leaving the coffee shop and walking down the street.

"What the hell did I just see?!" she said, belatedly realizing what she had just witnessed.

(End of this chapter)