The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 112: Nameless Tentacles Floating in the Clouds

The wardrobe before him no longer held a staircase. Inside lay only folded clothes and a patched blanket, from which a musty scent of dampness and mold drifted out.

A perfectly ordinary, unremarkable wardrobe.

At that moment, it struck Lu Li that everything from yesterday might have been just a bizarre dream.

If it weren't for the Bloody Tentacle's assault, Lu Li would have truly believed it.

Without a doubt, the Bloody Tentacle was what had caused the hole in Claire's forehead. Now, it had burrowed into Lu Li's own forehead, lurking somewhere inside his skull, biding its time.

The hands of the clock crept forward with a nearly inaudible tick. Each sound marked another second Lu Li had safely survived.

Imperceptibly, the hands ticked past the hundredth second, then the hundred-and-first, the hundred-and-second... At times, the noise from the street below drowned out the sound.

Lu Li's mind remained clear. No foreign memories surfaced, no strange voices echoed in his thoughts. Everything was normal, just as it had been before—as if nothing had happened. As if... it were the calm before the storm.

— Find a mirror.

The sudden voice jolted the ghost from its stupor. It nodded hastily and, as if fearing Lu Li might change his mind, rushed out of Claire's apartment.Lu Li waited for two minutes. In that time, nothing happened to him, but the ghost never returned with a mirror.

Apparently, it wasn't coming back.

Since several minutes had passed since the attack with no ill effect, Lu Li began to think he might just be all right.

The Bloody Tentacle was, without a doubt, connected to the thing Richard had been holding.

"He tempted us with the promise of resurrection... And he succeeded; we couldn't resist. Yulissis took a piece of flesh, I carved out the eye... O'Connor tore off a tentacle..." Lu Li recalled Hall's dying words. The tentacle that O'Connor took was, by all appearances, the very same one Lu Li had encountered. Claire, Richard's first but unsuccessful test subject, had confirmed as much.

But wasn't the Bloody Tentacle supposed to be with O'Connor? Why had it appeared in Claire's apartment?

And why hadn't he gone mad after looking right at it, like those unfortunate police officers? For now, at least, he felt no change in his emotions or thoughts. Perhaps the tentacle, severed from its main body, had lost some of its bizarre properties. Or was there another reason?

Lu Li realized he was getting sidetracked. He reined in his thoughts and returned to analyzing the situation.

The Bloody Tentacle and the strange space in the wardrobe had to be connected. Lu Li had successfully passed through that 'temporal floor' and received some sort of strange 'blessing'. Perhaps it meant he had passed some kind of trial...

Perhaps that was why he hadn't gone mad or died: he had endured the Bloody Tentacle's 'judgment'.

Claire had likely faced the same thing, but perhaps she'd retreated back into the temporal floor, or failed the trial, or something else had happened. Whatever the case, she had failed, and that was why she had gone mad.

The ghost's return interrupted Lu Li's thoughts. It held a simple, frameless mirror in its hands.

Lu Li silently took the mirror from the fawning ghost and examined his forehead.

His forehead was clear, without a single mark.

Lu Li nearly asked the ghost if the Bloody Tentacle had been real at all.

But as he tilted his head slightly, he caught sight of faint, drifting threads in the reflection of the window behind him.

Lu Li looked away from the mirror and turned to the window.

His dark eyes narrowed, his gaze fixing on what he saw.

An indescribable, bizarre scene was unfolding in the sky. A hazy mist hung over the city of Belfast, and through it, crimson threads were visible.

Ethereal yet tangible, they were impossibly long, connecting the heavens and the earth. Their upper ends vanished into the clouds, leading to some unknown destination, while their lower ends twisted and stretched toward the horizon.

These crimson threads descended upon the city, swaying as if in a phantom wind. Some froze upon reaching the ground, while others shifted slowly.

— What is that...?

Apparently, only Lu Li could see the sight. The ghost beside him, which had followed his gaze out the window with curiosity, paid no mind to the ethereal crimson threads in the sky.

A new calamity? Or a consequence of the Bloody Tentacle's appearance?

Lu Li leaned toward the latter. The tentacle had, after all, burrowed into his forehead only minutes ago.

But what did these threads mean?

Lu Li stared silently out the window for several seconds, then walked over and picked up a towel from the sill.

The damp, moldy towel only smeared more dust and mildew across the glass, making it even filthier.

Lu Li dropped the towel and flung the window open.

Fresh air rushed into the stuffy room, and the world outside sharpened into focus.

Ignoring the stares of passersby, Lu Li tilted his head back slightly, peering deep into the clouds.

The crimson threads descended from the clouds. Their upper ends were thick, like phantom cylinders of flesh.

The lower the threads descended, the thinner they became, until, a few hundred meters above the ground, they tapered into nearly invisible filaments.

Like... tentacles.

Or tendrils.

These miles-long tentacles, swaying in the wind, radiated a disturbing, repulsive aura. Every time Lu Li looked at them, he felt as if someone were whispering in his ear.

Images surfaced unbidden in his mind: ruins, a deep-sea abyss, whispers.

For a moment, Lu Li thought he could smell the stench of deep-sea ooze.

— Will... will you let me go?

A sudden, hoarse question from beside him pulled Lu Li from that distorted, gloomy world.

— You can go, — Lu Li replied. — Just make sure you behave.

— I haven't done anything wrong! — the ghost exclaimed, its whole form trembling. It added silently, "Except for a little mischief."

The ghost turned slowly and drifted toward the exit, as if afraid Lu Li would strike it from behind.

Lu Li silently watched its translucent figure, slowly raising a hand to his belt.

The ghost let out a quiet gulp.

Lu Li's hand came to rest on his holster... and fastened the strap.

Lu Li never killed the innocent for personal gain.

Even if it was his job.

Casting one last glance at the clouds outside, Lu Li set the mirror down on the dresser, picked up his oil lamp, and walked out of Claire's apartment.

He may have run into some ineffable, enormous new trouble, but at least things were no longer at a standstill.