Ghosts can die countless times and make just as many mistakes, but humans only have one life.

So, holding the logbook, the first to step out of the study was, of course, the Wind Attendant Buddha, who had the exact same build as Zhao Zhenjia.

The moment it stepped out of the study and came under attack, the ghost hiding outside the door was exposed.

She was a strange woman, wearing a Lolita dress similar to Xia Ta’s and holding an axe caked with old blood. It looked like she had killed before.

But the woman’s face was deathly pale. Her head was large, but her features were tiny, as if they’d been pasted on like paper cutouts, giving her the strong impression of being an imposter. A gleaming knife was also stuck in the nape of her neck.

It was as if her entire being was a crude attempt to imitate the real Xia Ta. But the imitation was so clumsy that it was utterly horrifying.

Facing this paper-doll-like creature, Jiang Yang raised the revolver in his right hand. The six bullets in the cylinder merged into one. He charged the shot for two seconds, then unleashed his most powerful round:

"Air-Pressure Round."

The revolver instantly fired, unleashing a blast with the force of a cannonball. A massive shockwave slammed into the strange woman. The tiny features on her large face contorted in a struggle, and her entire body was sent flying, crashing hard against the wall behind her.

The Air-Pressure Round was incredibly powerful, but it also emptied the entire cylinder instantly. For a short time, the chamber would be too hot to reload.

"Go!"

Jiang Yang didn’t dare to stick around and fight; there was another one of these things in the living room. The priority was to get out of here.

As they left, Zhao Zhenjia bent down to snatch the logbook from the floor, and they fled the godforsaken place.

Behind them, the wardrobe that had been nailed shut began to BANG loudly, as if some behemoth inside was about to burst out.

A SCRAPING sound echoed from the ceiling above, as if a giant gecko were skittering past.

In the shadows on the other side of the living room, a pair of deathly pale eyes slowly opened. A head in the darkness turned toward them.

Jiang Yang fired another shot with his left hand, shattering the door lock. Outside lay a pitch-black hallway. Judging by the layout, they were back on the fourth floor.

Rows of room numbers lined the walls: 419, 420, 421... The two had no time to look, sprinting wildly toward the stairwell. Heavy, ragged breathing echoed from the darkness behind them. Countless frantic footsteps burst from the rooms as foul things poured out, chasing them down the hall, refusing to let Jiang Yang and Zhao Zhenjia escape.

Jiang Yang glanced back and fired a shot with his left hand, aiming toward the sound of the approaching footsteps in the dark.

BANG.

The brief muzzle flash lit up half the hallway. It revealed a large man in the darkness, built just like Zhao Zhenjia but with a deathly pale face and tiny features, chasing desperately after them.

The brute’s eyes, mouth, and nose were also miniscule, just like features pasted onto a paper doll. The bullet struck its chest, drawing a spray of blood, but the creature seemed to feel nothing. Its pace didn’t slow in the slightest as it continued to pursue them.

Behind it, a motley crew of figures—a young woman, a madwoman, a silver-haired youth, and a man in a white shirt—gave chase. They, too, were wielding all sorts of bloodstained weapons, pursuing them relentlessly.

These five from the study were like crude imitations of the real group of five, which included Xia Ta and Gao Tian.

...

Month 18, Day 105, Sunny

Today, two new visitors entered my study.

They read my logbook and managed to evade the sudden attack from the murderers in the room.

But the moment I saw their faces, I finally understood. I understood why the five murderers who snuck into my room and killed me all those years ago looked so laughably crude.

Because today, a large man and a silver-haired youth arrived—the very "originals" two of the murderers have been so desperately trying to imitate all this time.

That’s right. Each of these five murderers has a corresponding original in the real world.

If they kill their real-world originals, they can take on a new identity and become human again.

This big man and the silver-haired youth escaped the study, but they were caught in the hallway. They were killed after 1 minute and 2 seconds.

The two counterfeits skinned their corpses and assumed their identities.

The madwoman was the second to die.

She had no sense of the danger. She saw her "accomplices" in the hallway, went up to say hello, and was hacked to death with an axe.

The young man in the white shirt ran into three of his "accomplices" at the door of Room 413.

He was more vigilant and had grown suspicious, so he asked two questions. But in the darkness, his counterfeit snuck up behind him and stabbed him to death with a pronged weapon.

Finally, only the girl in the heavy skirt remained. For some reason, she was nowhere to be found in any of the rooms along the hallway.

But no matter. The five ghosts have waited seven years; they have more than enough patience to continue the search.

’For some reason, seeing this as a corpse... maybe I’ve been with these five ghosts so long I’ve grown attached to them... I actually felt a flicker of excitement on their behalf.’

...

"Can you stop reading that damn logbook? What is all that nonsense it’s spouting?"

Jiang Yang shouted. The voice reading the logbook, which he thought was Zhao Zhenjia’s, was like a phantom whisper in his ear. With the five deformed "bootlegs" closing in fast, he could barely think straight.

Zhao Zhenjia shot back, infuriated:

"Take a good look! I’m not the one reading the logbook!

"I have no damn idea where that voice is coming from."

The five counterfeits behind them were closing the distance. The pistol was useless, and at this rate, they’d be caught before they reached the next stairwell.

As they fled for their lives, Jiang Yang’s doubts only grew.

’Why did the five ghosts enter Lin Nan’an’s study seven years ago? Why kill him and then hide in his room for seven years?’

’Did the ghosts somehow predict, seven years ago, that we would arrive today?’

’Even for a supernatural event, this was too bizarre.’

’And there was something even stranger.’

’After Lin Nan’an was killed and became a corpse, the events in the logbook kept being recorded.’

’So, the question was... who was writing in the logbook?’

’Lin Nan’an himself wrote that after becoming a corpse, he couldn’t even move a finger.’

’Yet the subsequent entries continued to be written from his first-person perspective.’

’Especially that last entry. It dropped all pretense and just laid out everything that was happening now, and everything that was about to happen.’

’Is everything that’s happening right now an illusion?’

’Jiang Yang suspected the logbook itself was a Supernatural Artifact, one that worked through psychological suggestion. As someone reads it, they unconsciously immerse themselves in the story, gradually becoming dependent on its contents.’

’If you believe what’s written in the logbook, then those terrifying events will manifest in reality.’

’The first half, written by Lin Nan’an, was real. But the second half... that was a ghost’s diary.’

’They were reading a ghost’s diary, so of course, the diary had written an ending for them where they were killed by ghosts.’

Of course, this was all just Jiang Yang’s theory.

But theorizing was pointless now. The ghosts from the diary were here, in reality.

’If this is all just an illusion created by the logbook, how do I end it?’

As the group of five behind them drew ever closer, Jiang Yang suddenly slowed his pace at a corner, without any warning.

Behind him, Zhao Zhenjia was drenched in sweat:

"Are you insane? Keep running!"

Jiang Yang raised his pistol, aiming at the five silhouettes approaching them down the hall.

"I suspect these five never existed in the first place. We created them through our own psychological suggestion."

"There’s no point in running. The logbook has already written how we’re supposed to die."

"I’m going to test this theory my own way."

’Of course, he was well aware that if his test failed, he would be killed instantly.’

Besides, running would only lead to the fate the logbook had written for them. It was better to stand and fight for a chance to live than to run and die for certain.

Jiang Yang wasn’t confident in his method, either. He had a special Supernatural Artifact on him. Maybe it would work, maybe it would be useless.

This was a gamble for his life.

Cold sweat trickled down Jiang Yang’s neck as he waited for them to close the distance.

Just as this life-or-death moment arrived, a muffled female voice suddenly rang out, as if from behind a thick wall:

"What are you two idiots doing?"

’That voice... it was—’

’Lan Chu?’

’Why is Lan Chu here?’

Zhao Zhenjia and Jiang Yang instinctively whipped their heads around, searching for Lan Chu. But there was no sign of the madwoman at either end of the hallway.

"I’m right here."

"Where are you looking, you idiots?"

In a pile of junk at the corner—discarded furniture like old sofas—stood a dusty, full-length mirror. Lan Chu’s voice was coming from inside it.

What really made them feel like they were seeing a ghost was Lan Chu’s figure appearing from within the mirror. She was holding a dog leash, and on the other end was a flayed, ghostly old man.

Jiang Yang was stunned.

"What the hell? How did you get in that mirror? Did you fall into some kind of lethal trap?"

’When it rains, it pours,’ Jiang Yang thought. ’Lan Chu’s been trapped in a mirror by some powerful ghost. There’s no time to worry about her. In fact, she’s lucky to be in there. Out here, Old Zhao and I are about to die.’

"Lan Chu, remember what you’re seeing right now."

"These five are here to replace us. They waited seven years in a study just for the chance to kill us and take our places."

"Don’t fall for it. If I die, a ghost can impersonate me..."

Lan Chu looked utterly perplexed.

"What are you talking about, Jiang Yang?"

"I think you and Old Zhao have lost your minds."

"A minute ago, you two just randomly ran to this corner and started acting crazy—muttering to yourselves, backing away, sweating bullets like you were in some desperate struggle."

"What in the world was chasing you down the hall? I can’t see a thing."

Hearing this, Jiang Yang slowly turned his head.

Across the hallway, the five counterfeits that had been relentlessly pursuing them were suddenly gone. The space was empty, as if they had never been there at all.

Everything was back to normal.

Except, of course, for Lan Chu, who was still in the mirror.