I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 221 - 221 220. You just looked very much like a thief_1

Chapter 221: 220. You just looked very much like a thief_1 Chapter 221: 220. You just looked very much like a thief_1 After finishing the current manuscript of “The Madman’s Mouth,” Cui Siter felt a bit dizzy.

The story began with the disappearance of a novelist—a well-known horror writer who vanished after leaving behind the beginning of a new novel. There was much public speculation, while the detective and his two assistants, who were in charge of the investigation, were attacked at a teahouse. They defeated their attackers and went to the publishing house in search of clues about the novelist’s whereabouts, and that was exactly where the story cut off.

It was clear to any astute reader that the content of this novel was almost identical to the experiences that Lu Ban and the others had had so far, with the addition of a few extra plot points. The novel mentioned that the detectives, through an investigation of clues provided by the publishing house, discovered that the novelist might have gone to a small town not far from the city.

This manuscript was obviously handed over to the editorial department by Ancient Capital two weeks ago, and the writing was done even earlier.

If it were merely the part about the detective being attacked, one could argue it was a typical trope in such novels. However, it was particularly notable that the detective had one male and one female assistant—exactly like Lu Ban and Shia—and the method they used to defeat their attackers was also almost exactly the same.

What was more significant was that the manuscript also described how Lu Ban hugged the Orange Cat when they returned to the detective’s office.

“The power of prophecy?”

Shia first thought of the corresponding magic, but prophecies were not accurate; after all, they were just a display of possibilities. Nobody relied on them for decisions, and in Abandoned Capital, it would surely be illogical for a writer to have such an ability. If Ancient Capital truly had the power of prophecy, why would he have disappeared?

“The beginning is perfect, isn’t it? It really leaves one eager for the rest,” Editor Qian commented carefully as he put away the manuscript.

“Indeed.”

Cui Siter picked up on his words and then asked,

“Besides this, do you have any other clues?”

“Ancient Capital often disappeared for several days at a time, starting a while back. He said he was going to Beihan Town for material, but I have no idea where Beihan Town is. Do you know?” Editor Qian said with a look of frustration.

“Not sure,”

Lu Ban shook his head.

“According to the novel, the novelist went to a small town in the north. So, does that mean Beihan Town should be to the north of Abandoned Capital?”

Shia pondered.

“There are no cities within a two-day journey to the north of Abandoned Capital. That place isn’t called Beihan Town; it’s called Hanxu, a mining city.”

Cui Siter casually explained.

“So, could it be that Ancient Capital went to Hanxu?”

Lu Ban inquired.

“Possibly. Novels often have a basis in reality, and the Beihan Town described here does have some similarities with Hanxu. Perhaps we can find some answers there.”

Cui Siter nodded in agreement.

He had just finished speaking when he suddenly felt a little hazy.

Upon closer consideration, in the story of “The Madman’s Mouth,” those detectives had indeed obtained a clue from the editorial department and decided to head to Beihan Town.

The moments in the novel were exactly like the current one.

“What’s wrong?”

Seeing the change in Cui Siter’s expression, Shia immediately asked.

“No, nothing…”

He adjusted his mood and inquired about more details of the communication between Editor Qian and Ancient Capital before leaving the publishing house.

“We’re now conducting the investigation exactly according to the novel’s plot. What on earth is this novel about?”

Once out on the street and watching the passersby coming and going, Cui Siter reflected.

“Is there a possibility that we are in a novel right now?”

Lu Ban speculated suddenly.

“…”

Cui Siter didn’t want to entertain Lu Ban’s whimsical idea.

“Do we still need to visit the house in Ancient Capital?”

Shia was rather doubtful of Lu Ban’s suggestion.

“Let’s go take a look.”

The trio then headed without pause to the inner third ring, and although it was said to be ring by ring, there were actually no real walls to distinguish between these districts, just the separation of streets.

Once they reached the third ring, the road surfaces suddenly became clean, as if someone were always cleaning, and the stench mixed with excrement had vanished, replaced instead by birdsong and the fragrance of flowers.

There were rickshaw pullers here too, but both the rickshaws and the pullers’ clothes were newer and cleaner than those on the outside, and even their demeanor seemed different.

Indeed, these rickshaw pullers, when they looked at Cui Siter, Lu Ban, and Shia, who had walked over from the streets of the fourth ring with some dust on their overcoats, could be seen to have a touch of contempt in their expression.

Lu Ban was a bit surprised by the attitude displayed by these people here, but upon reflection, it all made sense.

In certain eras, slaves also took pride in their masters and even betrayed their kin for them, as if history had always been so.

The houses here were all detached villas. The rich people of Abandoned Capital not only were unwilling to share houses with others but also often needed to host gatherings, making a spacious hall and an elegant garden essential.

Compared to other places, this area was more secluded.

“It’s very quiet here, almost no one on the streets …”

Shia couldn’t help but remark.

“Yeah, they’ve probably all gone to work, to inspect their own industries …”

Cui Siter was about to say something else when Lu Ban directly interrupted the two.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

Cui Siter and Shia looked at Lu Ban oddly, not sure what the fuss was about.

The three of them followed the road until they reached the villa at the end of the slope. The villa’s garden clearly lacked maintenance, a complete mess, with weeds having overrun the space for normal plants, growing wildly and spreading over the walls, making the whole house seem creepy and terrifying. From here, they couldn’t see inside the house. Cui Siter first strolled around the outside of the yard.

“I’ve noticed something.”

Lu Ban said seriously to Cui Siter, who had circled back.

“What, are there signs of the Ancient Capital?”

“You just now looked a lot like a thief.”

Lu Ban answered.

“…To hell with you.”

Cui Siter, using the key, opened the rusty iron gate of the yard, which made a creaking sound—a sound typical in horror movies.

Cui Siter went in first, with Lu Ban at the end, and the three of them arrived at the front door.

Upon opening the door, Cui Siter was hit by a foul, rotten smell.

“A body?”

He quickly dismissed this thought, because in the kitchen sink, a mass filled with yellow and green was bulging and flowing out—it was moldy food, and that rotten smell was coming from it.

As he turned on the light, Lu Ban saw that the entire room’s decor seemed oppressive, dull, discordant. He could see that neither cabinets nor tables were placed diagonally, enough to drive someone with OCD mad. On top of the cupboard were photos, but only of Ancient Capital.

One could see that he was quite a handsome young man, with a touch of melancholy between his brows and eyes, the very epitome of a literary youth.

Having searched the ground floor without finding any clues, Cui Siter was preparing to check the second floor.

At that moment, Shia suddenly raised her hand.

“Shh.”

She gestured for the others to be quiet, then spoke in a hushed voice.

“There’s a noise upstairs.”

Creak—

At the same time, from above their heads, the sound of something stepping on the wooden floorboards could be heard.