So far, 17 years have passed. I still don't know what the monster I saw that day was. And the development of things after that became even more confusing. At least from the teacher, I could only hear some fragmented answers. The police made a record of me, and the teacher talked to me and warned me not to spread the word, and then I stopped talking. And Bawan, Boar and Lao Jiu, are indeed dead. I saw with my own eyes their shriveled bodies lifted out of the toilet. What's even more bizarre is that when the monster was carried away, it was already a corpse, and it was covered with dense bullet holes.

When the thing was exposed to the sun, it was as if the oily substance had met a high temperature and burned violently. It ended up as an illegible piece of coke.

My life changed completely because of this incident, and I have been trying to understand the events of that year ever since. But the investigation went back and forth, and I ran into walls everywhere, and finally I set my sights on the zombie incident that caused a lot of noise in '95. My intuition tells me that there may be a striking connection between the two.

If someone were to ask me what time represents, I would tell most people the standard answer. Time represents accumulation, experience, and wealth. But for myself, time has only brought me more confusion. After so many years of investigating zombie incidents, I still don't have a clue.

Now, although I have accumulated a certain network of contacts, I understand a little bit about what happened to me more than ten years ago. However, the more I knew, the more suspicious I became. First of all, the monster was indeed human, or had been human. It is the senior of the third class of the sixth year. But what made the senior look like that? The police may have concealed something about that case, at least, most of them must know what the mutated senior is.

Getting on a plane back to Spring City from a university in Germany has always been chaotic. Neither Li Nuoyi nor the Guardian Girl have been bothering me lately, which has given me a lot of time.

Spring City hasn't been back for a long time.

Sitting in my father's office, I looked up out the window. Through the glass, look at the bustling crowd downstairs. There is an abundance of sunlight outside, and human beings are busy multiplying and thinking that they are detached from their biological instincts. However, is it said that instinct can be taken off if you take it off? Downstairs crowded with people shopping, and a few of them knew that the world was actually strange. Human beings are not masters, but only self-righteous stealing on the basis of narrow knowledge. They only see conventional things, and once they encounter supernatural and unconventional creatures, events, and objects, they will appear extremely vulnerable.

I retracted my gaze and carefully read the email a few more times, and finally I picked up the phone and dialed the mobile phone number at the bottom of the email.

The other party quickly answered the phone, and his voice was hoarse, with a sense of vicissitudes. I didn't tell each other my name, but he already knew who I was.

"Mr. Night?"

"It's me." I was stunned, a little surprised.

"Don't worry, I've only told you one person about this phone number." He chuckled.

We chatted without a trace, trying to find out the details of him, but he talked about it like a tai chi, obviously not wanting to talk about specific things on the phone. In the end, everyone who was unsalted and tasteless found it boring, and stopped the topic at the same time. The two sides of the microphone suddenly fell into silence in embarrassment.

"You've read that email, right?" The man whispered.

Nonsense, I didn't see that I could call you! I complained to myself in my heart, lowered my voice, and replied like a thief: "Yes." Hot. ”

"Well, why don't you find a place to talk about it?"

"Okay." I was about to say an address, but the other party had already rushed to say: "Go to a bar called Offshore at the South Gate, No. 7 Elegant Seat on the third floor." I'm here, just waiting for you for half an hour. If you don't arrive for half an hour, you don't have to make this call again. ”

The man's tone was so urgent that I frowned. What does he mean?

After cutting off the phone, I hurriedly drove towards the south gate. Half an hour is tight, not a minute can be wasted. I guess the guy also knew the location of my office, but he sent me an email in a roundabout way, and found a remote bar as the address. The flavor here is a bit more complicated. At the very least, it cast a shadow on my psyche, and more of it was curiosity. From his tone, I could smell a hint of danger.

It took me twenty-eight minutes to run and jump into the offshore bar. Pushing open the door, a melodious pure piano music echoed softly in the ears, which made people feel much more relaxed. Finding his designated location, the owner of the mysterious letter sat in the darkest corner of the bar, and the closest guest to the bar was more than a dozen places away.

"Hello, Mr. Night." He looked at me: "You are very punctual. ”

I sat down across from him and asked, "Now, let's talk openly and honestly." Who are you? How much truth is there in the letter? ”

In that letter, the zombie incident of '95 was first spread from an inaccessible coal mining village in the Qingcheng Mountains. Everyone in that village died, and almost no one survived. This level of rumor to tell the truth doesn't concern me. After all, there are countless rumors of the same, and there are too many versions. The credible documents are followed by all kinds of evidence, even photographs.

The last photo surprised me and I couldn't help myself. Because perhaps the photographer did not realize that there was a corpse in an inconspicuous place in the photo. The corpse was not ordinary, and seemed to be somewhat deformed. But I recognized it at a glance, it was the same monster I had encountered 17 years ago, and I still feared it.

"Since Mr. Night is willing to come over, he must have already made a judgment in his heart." The man laughed in an ugly voice.

My eyes adjusted to the dimness of the bar, and I began to scrutinize each other. He was in his forties, and his hands holding the cup were black and calloused. There are several shocking scratches on the face, perhaps from the paws of a big cat. But if you look closely, you don't think it looks like it.

"Why did you think of looking for me?" I asked.

"Not long ago, I read a few papers written by Mr. Ye, and I saw you say on Weibo that you were investigating the zombie incident in Spring City in '95, but the investigation did not go smoothly and was completely deadlocked. So I thought, maybe it's time to say it! The man sighed, "Do you want to hear a story?" An unfinished story in a letter? ”

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