My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

Zhang Ying deliberately quickened his pace.

He walked past the corner of the hospital corridor, his shoes making a crisp sound as they stepped on the terrazzo floor.

Seeing this, the people following behind Zhang Ying quickened their pace.

The footsteps changed from a slow rhythm to a rapid pace, with a noticeable increase in frequency, and the sound of the soles of the shoes rubbing against the ground was particularly clear in the empty passageway.

However, when that person passed the corner, Zhang Ying was standing at the corner walking back.

He didn't continue forward, but stopped after turning the corner, turned around, faced the direction he had come from, and stood face to face with the follower.

Only then did Zhang Ying see the face of the person who was following him.

To his surprise, the person following him was a child.

The child was shorter than Zhang Ying's belly, wearing a dark blue children's sweatshirt with two upright ears on the hood, gray sweatpants, and dirty white sneakers.

His face was round, his skin was dark, and his eyes were big, which were now wide open, his mouth slightly agape, his whole expression filled with terror.

The child shuddered when he saw Zhang Ying.

Then he turned around, took short strides, and ran off quickly. His sneakers slapped the ground, and the hood of his hoodie swayed behind him.

Zhang Ying watched the child's departing figure and scratched his head.

The child didn't seem like a threat; he was skinny with thin arms and legs, and he staggered when he ran.

But Zhang Ying did not let his guard down. He knew all too well that the most dangerous things often had the most harmless appearance.

However, he ignored the child.

Even if a child who is less than his waist has a problem, he won't cause much trouble in the hospital.

Zhang Ying turned around and continued walking towards the registration hall.

Registering, queuing, entering the consultation room, and undergoing examinations. The entire process took more than an hour.

The doctor, a middle-aged man wearing glasses, looked at Zhang Ying's test report over and over again, his expression shifting from confusion to even deeper bewilderment.

After leaving the hospital, Zhang received news that brought him both joy and sorrow.

The good news is that his eyes still have a chance of recovery. The doctor said that the optic nerve was not completely dead, but had been subjected to strong stimulation and pressure. As long as he stops overusing it, the nerve will repair itself.

The bad news is that this strange case has never been seen before, and there are no similar records in the hospital's ophthalmology database, so there is currently no effective treatment.

The doctor's advice was only one: get plenty of rest, reduce eye strain, and wait for natural recovery.

It's impossible to say exactly how long the recovery will take. It could be a week, a month, or a year.

Zhang Ying stood at the hospital entrance, folded the test report twice, stuffed it into his pocket, and sighed.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Shen Yugang, asking where he was.

Shen Yugang replied quickly, saying he was still with his parents and wouldn't be able to come out until evening, and asked Zhang Ying if he wanted to have dinner together.

Zhang Ying replied, "Okay, I'll contact you later," and put his phone back in his pocket.

He decided to go find Shen Yugang first. Since his eyesight wasn't very good anyway, and he was just sitting alone, he might as well find a place to sit down.

Zhang Ying walked out of the hospital gate and walked along the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

He noticed that the little boy had followed him again.

This time, Zhang Ying did not pretend not to know.

Out of caution and doubt, he simply turned around and walked towards the little boy.

The little boy was hiding behind a roadside tree. The trunk barely covered most of his body, but a corner of his hoodie peeked out from the other side of the trunk, swaying slightly in the wind.

Seeing Zhang Ying suddenly turn around and walk towards him, the little boy's body visibly stiffened. He realized he had been exposed and wanted to turn around and run away.

But as soon as he took a step, he lost his balance and almost fell to the ground.

His ankle felt as if it were bound by something; the foot he was about to step out was held back by a force, dangling in mid-air and unable to fall. He struggled twice, but the force remained unmoved, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his foot.

But when he looked at his ankle, there was nothing there.

At this moment, Zhang Ying had a blood-red rope in his hand, the other end of which was tied to the little boy's leg.

The rope was only about the thickness of a chopstick and was a dark red color.

It's not an ordinary rope; it has no woven texture, no knots, and is a single piece from beginning to end, as if it were cut directly from a large piece of red material.

After leaving the movie world, Zhang Ying's ability to utilize the Ghost Domain improved significantly. One aspect of this was his ability to control the amount of Ghost Domain he could release.

Previously, when he deployed his Ghost Domain, he would spread out a ten-meter radius.

But now it's different; he can release a small portion of the power of the Ghost Realm using a "partial release" method.

If he wanted, he could use his negligible sanity points to release a certain amount of blood and condense it into a rope like this.

Holding the other end of the blood-stained rope, Zhang Ying walked slowly toward the little boy.

His steps were not large, nor was his speed fast, but each step was heavy and carried a strong sense of pressure.

As the tall Zhang Ying approached, the little boy's legs began to go weak.

His lips trembled twice, his eyes quickly reddened, and then he burst into tears, sitting down on the ground with a loud "waaaah."

Tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his hoodie.

The surrounding pedestrians immediately cast surprised glances at them.

Crying in the street is already conspicuous enough, let alone when it's a child crying, and the person standing opposite the child is a tall young man wearing sunglasses.

Some people stopped in their tracks, some whispered to each other, and some even took out their phones, ready to contact the police at any moment.

Zhang Ying slapped his forehead.

Whenever I want to rest, something always comes knocking.

……

Half an hour later, the little boy sat on a chair in the milk tea shop, his eyes red and swollen, licking his ice cream with teary eyes.

The little boy held the ice cream cone in both hands, licking it little by little. Snot and tears mingled on his face, but he didn't wipe them away. He just kept licking while crying.

Zhang Ying sat opposite him, impatiently holding a cup of Americano.

He took a sip and put the cup down, staring intently at the little boy in front of him.

The little boy stuffed the last bite of the crispy cone into his mouth, chewed it twice, swallowed it, and then looked up at Zhang Ying with a pleading expression.

Those big, red, swollen eyes were filled with the words "I want more".

Zhang Ying's lips twitched.

"Answer my question," he said, his voice low but his tone firm, "and I'll buy you another one."

The little boy nodded vigorously, snot flying from his nostrils and hanging above his lips.

Zhang Ying waited until he finished wiping his nose before asking, "Why were you following me?"