Detective Agency of the Bizarre
Chapter 165 - 165 Twenty-two

165: Twenty-two.

The Steps in the Wardrobe 165: Twenty-two.

The Steps in the Wardrobe “Who is the mortician?”

“She’s a volunteer helping at the church.”

“Is she here?”

“Yes.”

“Take me to see her.”

“Please follow me.”

Lu Li followed the tall nun, Mama, to find the volunteer who helped at the church, an elderly woman with slightly cloudy pupils and a birthmark on her right forehead.

The former was common with age, the latter was an age spot.

Lu Li asked her about the hole in Claire’s forehead.

Mrs.

Marsha said it had already been there when the police brought Claire in.

What was suspicious was that the hole in Claire’s forehead was not determined by the police to be her cause of death—at least not according to the information provided by Valentine.

Did this suggest something…?

…

Beta Street.

The last time Lu Li had been nearby was half a month ago.

Mishelia’s home was right next door in Alpha District.

Perhaps the increasingly haggard faces of that elderly couple had touched Lu Li, making him rush on Alpha Street to briefly stop and buy some fruit to take up.

“I’m here to visit you on behalf of Mishelia.”

After speaking, Lu Li declined their invitation to stay for dinner and went to his street.

Different from Alpha Street, the former was initially intended for the colonizers’ lower-level employees, while Beta District was targeted at wealthier individuals.

Three-story brick buildings lurked in the dim light, with a few windows illuminated by oil lamps.

It was nearly dark.

In the corridor, where one could barely see a hand in front of them, a dim oil lamp flickered to life.

Holding an oil lamp, Lu Li stood before room 1 across the corridor.

The sound of footsteps vanished, and Lu Li looked down, his shoes stepping on a black, dirty rug.

His shoe flipped the rug, and a rust-covered brass key quietly lay beneath it.

Bending down, he picked up the key, inserted it into the keyhole, turned it, and with a soft click, the lock opened without resistance.

Squeak—ah—

Amid the grating sound of the door hinge, the door was pushed open,

dust particles surged behind the door, wandering within the range of the oil lamp.

Lu Li focused his gaze and slowed his breathing as he stepped inside.

He didn’t notice any eerie presence, his palm resting on the flintlock pistol’s grip, yet he didn’t draw it.

The air stirred the dust around him; it was alright not seeing them, but once seen, each breath seemed to draw them into his body.

The floor was covered in dust, the dust was marked with messy footprints, and more dust layered on top of those footprints.

The unoccupied room was heavily dusty.

In half a month’s time, the accumulated dust made it look as if no one had lived there for months.

As the oil lamp swung, the cramped living room revealed its worn outlines.

The bedroom door on the left side of the living room was slightly ajar, hidden in darkness.

Lu Li walked to the middle of the living room, where a rope dangled in front of him, its upper end connected to a chandelier.

Is there still electricity here?

Click—

Buzz—

As Lu Li tugged on the rope, the chandelier swayed gently but did not light up.

Lu Li withdrew his gaze, first scanning around the dust-covered living room.

The harbor lights outside the window were hazy.

Withdrawing his gaze, Lu Li walked toward the wooden door beside the kitchen.

Creak—

The wooden door pushed open, and the sound of dripping water suddenly amplified.

In the light cast by the oil lamp, water dripped from the tank above, splashing onto the tiles, leaving a circle of dingy yellow.

The small bathroom was fully visible.

Closing the wooden door again, Lu Li turned and walked toward the bedroom’s half-closed door.

Approaching the door, a faint wind sounded from behind it.

Wind…?

Lu Li pushed open the door, yet without taking a step, he stood outside without going in.

The windows were tightly shut, and no air leaked from the sealed bedroom.

Yet the sound of wind was still there.

Suddenly, a low shadow flitted from the edge of his sight, and just as Lu Li’s gaze shifted, there was a loud bang.

The wardrobe door in the corner on the left was tightly shut.

That was a blind spot, and Lu Li, standing outside the door, could not see it.

Even now, Lu Li had not sensed any malice.

And that shadow was half the height of a person, it couldn’t possibly be some kind of animal.

Lu Li’s palm gently lifted, grasping the Flintlock Pistol from its holster.

A cold chill swept over him, but here Lu Li felt a long-lost peace.

No ghosts, no malice…

there was nothing here.

It was eerily clean.

The oil lamp in his hand flickered as if the kerosene was about to run out, constantly flickering, the flame weakened, making the surroundings intermittently bright and dark.

Lu Li was certain it was full when he borrowed it from the Coachman.

Ignoring the flickering oil lamp for now, Lu Li walked into the room, standing in front of a wardrobe door on the wall, tightly closed with peeling paint.

His palm grasped the wardrobe door handle, pausing slightly.

Generally speaking, a hideous ghost would roar and surge forth.

Dispelling irrelevant thoughts, Lu Li suddenly pulled open the wardrobe door—

Blood red reflected Lu Li’s tall figure.

A dark red staircase extended downward before him.

No coldness, no malice, nothing at all.

This was just an ordinary staircase.

Except it was in a wardrobe, and it carried an ominous aura.

Everything inside the closet was blood red, the light coming from an unknown source.

The dark red staircase folded after about twenty steps and continued downward.

Taking his gaze back from the staircase’s end, Lu Li focused on the wall.

A row of huge numbers appeared right in the middle of the wall, where normally one would expect to see the floor number.

1200

Did that mean the number of floors, or something else?

Chaotic scripts were scattered across the blood-red walls, some elegant, some scribbled, some wildly disordered.

The meaning of each sentence was different, some were repetitive, some were damaged.

Lu Li barely pieced together three sentences from the incomplete writings.

[Do not listen to the laughter, it will erode your will, making you addicted to revelry.]

[Avoid staying up late, it is your greatest enemy, health is more important than you think]

[Stay away from going out, children disguised as monsters will cling to you, making you lose faith amid laughter and cheer]

Lu Li quietly observed these texts, stepped forward, and walked into the blood-red space behind the wardrobe.

Szzz—

The oil lamp extinguished the moment Lu Li stepped into the blood-red space.

The blood-red color filled his vision, causing inner restlessness.

Lu Li’s expression remained calm, showing no emotion.

He walked down the stairs layer by layer without much hesitation, coming to a turn in the staircase.

Below was still the extending staircase, then another turn, continuing downward…

The wall still held intermittent phrases, and among those numbers, one number changed.

1230

The number increased by 30.

The bizarre scene didn’t cause Lu Li to hesitate; he continued downward, walked down to the 1230th floor, then without pausing, kept going until he saw the number of the next floor level.

1300

Each floor spaced by 30, seemingly representing time.

He had just noticed this when something strange happened!

Hee—hee-hee—

A burst of children’s laughter arose from around the corner down the stairs, eerily echoing.

Lu Li immediately turned around without hesitation and retraced his steps up the staircase.