The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 232: Nightfall

Despite the warmth of the shelter, the combination of deep exhaustion and a gnawing sense of danger made it impossible for Lu Li to sleep peacefully.

He would jolt awake every few minutes, only to drift back into a fitful slumber.

While this cycle prevented any real rest, it at least meant he didn't have to worry about the fire dying unsupervised or the water from his improvised collector overflowing.

Less than two hours later, Lu Li woke for the fifth time.

Morning was approaching. Beneath a sky thick with clouds, the ocean looked dark and brooding, as if it were hiding something sinister in its depths.

Lu Li slipped out of the shelter for a moment and returned with a full pot of water. Placing it on the stones to heat, he finished the last of the canned stew, rinsed the container, and, with his lips pressed into a thin line, walked back out toward the sea.

The water, as before, was intensely salty, and the meal had only made his thirst worse. At least the hunger was gone.

As he washed the can, he watched the waves toss shells onto the shore only to drag them back into the ocean's embrace.

The first stick Lu Li had planted at the water's edge was now completely submerged, and the second was nearly invisible; its tip only broke the surface when a wave receded. The water level was significantly higher than it had been two hours ago.

A fresh wave washed over Lu Li’s feet, leaving a small scallop at his toes before pulling back.Lu Li picked up the scallop and pried it open with a shard of rock, but it was empty—only a tiny sliver of white flesh clung to the inside of the shell.

Tossing it back into the sea, Lu Li refilled his can at the water collector and returned to the shelter with an armful of firewood.

The water on the stones had grown warm. Lu Li fed a few more branches into the fire, coaxing it to bring the water to a boil, then lay down to rest.

Soon, a soft bubbling sound filled the small space.

Lu Li’s eyes opened. The water in the pot was boiling.

He sat up, used a branch to slide the pot off the fire, and set it in a shallow pit he had dug nearby, covering the top with a clean stone to keep out the sand. After tossing another branch onto the fire, he lay down once more.

Lu Li continued to wake every half hour. The first time, he drank a little water; the second, a little more. The third time, he drained the pot and replaced it with the full one from the collector.

A sudden chill ran through him. Lu Li threw a few more pieces of wood onto the fire and fell asleep again to the howling of the wind.

Time trickled by. Noon was approaching.

At some point, Lu Li awoke with a heavy head, knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.

After drinking some hot water, he went to the collector and swapped out the full pot.

It was difficult to tell the exact time on the island, but judging by the amount of water collected, five or six hours must have passed.

It was probably around five in the evening. Soon, it would be dark.

He added more wood to the fire, then stepped out of the shelter.

The water was receding. The tide had reached its peak at noon and was now on its way out.

Lu Li made his way to a pool of water that had formed among the reefs. Trapped inside were five or six small fish, each about the size of his finger.

It wasn’t much of a catch—all of them together were smaller than the fish he had used for bait. To attract anything bigger, he would need something more enticing, like meat.

Rolling up his trousers, Lu Li waded into the pool and began trying to catch the tiny fish.

A few minutes later, he had four of them in his hand. The water had become too murky to see the others, so Lu Li decided not to waste any more time. He killed his catch and waded back toward the part of the beach where he had discovered the flipper prints.

After the high tide, most of the tracks had vanished, including his own. He confirmed that only the original twelve prints remained, with no new ones among them, then headed back past the tide pool and toward his shelter.

Here, the tracks were too jumbled to conceal, so Lu Li abandoned the idea. He glanced at the sky. It was getting darker—night would fall soon.

While there was still some light, Lu Li placed the fish on a rock near the fire and set off into the woods, searching for something he could use to cover the entrance to his shelter.

He found himself walking involuntarily toward the hut on the cliff, the only place that showed any sign of past human habitation. But as he stepped onto the path leading up to it, his brow furrowed.

The unsettling feeling he’d had inside the hut was growing stronger with every step he took.

It felt as if he wasn't approaching a simple hut, but something dark and malevolent.

Less than ten meters from the structure, Lu Li stopped. He could feel that if he went any closer, that evil aura would touch him.

He didn't use his spirit pistol to pinpoint the source of the feeling. The pistol's perception was a two-way street: if Lu Li sensed something, it would sense him in return, and that was the last thing he wanted.

With a regretful glance at the deck chair near the hut, Lu Li turned back to the start of the path.

He searched the nearby area but found nothing. Twilight was deepening, making it difficult to see anything in the distance. He returned to the shelter.

To his astonishment, a familiar object lay a few meters from the entrance. It was the very thing he had given up on finding just twenty minutes ago.

It was the deck chair.

"...?" Lu Li stared up at the cliff top.

The wind was strong up there, and it was possible the chair had simply blown off, but the coincidence felt far too strange.

Suppressing the urge to draw his pistol, Lu Li decided to accept the gift. He dragged the deck chair to the shelter and dismantled it. The canvas section, which resembled a stretcher, he placed across the entrance.

The sides of the shelter were completely blocked, leaving only a gap of about twenty centimeters at the top—just enough for the smoke from the fire to escape.

The fit was perfect. If anything tried to move it, Lu Li would hear it immediately.

It was as if he had forgotten there was someone else on the island.

Lu Li gazed into the distance. The sea, just a few dozen meters away, was now a dark silhouette. In the west, the last crimson vestiges of sunset were vanishing, as if all light and warmth were abandoning the world. Only the fire in his shelter burned bright and warm.

After bringing in enough firewood to last until morning, Lu Li climbed inside and pulled the deck chair into place behind him.

The roar of the waves and wind immediately softened. With the makeshift door, an illusory sense of security settled over the shelter.

Flipping the charring fish over, Lu Li leaned against the warm stone wall, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

The last slivers of light disappeared from the world.

Night had fallen.