My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 432 Whoever takes the night shift at this store dies

Chapter 432: Chapter 432 Whoever takes the night shift at this store dies

"Only the toy with ’mom’ on it was destroyed?"

As Han Fei held the puppet in his hands, he gently twisted its body and found a few bloodstains at the neck of the puppet.

"There’s blood on a child’s toy, this isn’t right," Han Fei tried to grab the body of the puppet, and the place his fingers clasped was very clean, with the bloodstains right at the edge of his fingertips.

"Could it be that the kid witnessed his own father committing murder?" A scene emerged in Han Fei’s mind.

An innocent child heard his parents in a fierce quarrel and timidly walked out of his room with his toy, only to see the moment his mother’s head fell.

The splattered blood landed in front of him, with a small amount also ending up on the toy.

That would also explain why only the toy with ’mother’ written on it was taken apart.

"The head can’t be put back together..."

"Hey!"

A woman’s voice suddenly rang out above Han Fei’s head, startling him so much that his pupils shook.

"What are you doing?" Huang Li, with a freshly cleaned tote bag and sweater, stood by the counter, looking puzzled at Han Fei hiding under it.

"Nothing much, just now a kid came by, begging me to keep his toy," Han Fei’s complexion quickly returned to normal.

"That kid came again? And in the middle of the night?" Huang Li shook her head, "That boy must have snuck out behind his family’s back; if his father finds out, he is definitely in for a beating."

"Have you seen his father?"

"These toys were brought in by his father. That man is quite tall and strong, his arms thicker than my thighs."

"I heard he also brought a lot of old furniture, is he planning to move?" Han Fei placed the puppet aside from the other items.

"Not sure." Huang Li looked around, "Where’s the kid? Where did he run off to?"

"He was just here in the store, might have sneaked away," Han Fei came out from behind the counter, "Can I take a look at the second-hand furniture he consigned here?"

"Most of the stuff he brought was new, I’ve put it at the very front of the furniture area," she responded.

Han Fei entered the furniture area and searched one by one until his gaze settled on the biggest armchair.

"If you hollowed out this armchair, you could completely hide a body wrapped in duct tape and preservatives."

As he drew closer, Han Fei lifted the armchair cushion and felt around with his fingertips.

He did not find a body inside the armchair, but found a very thin notebook wedged in the seams of the seat cushion.

This must be the boy’s homework book, where the language teacher had asked for a weekly diary entry, and for an entire month, the boy had written about his dad taking him to the park.

"From the description, it must be that abandoned park, could it be that the body is buried in the park?"

In the child’s diary entries, there was always a mention of the small pond under the stone bridge, and Han Fei suspected that after killing his wife, the man hid her body in the mud of the pond.

"The boy’s body turned white from soaking, his eyes swollen like a goldfish’s; perhaps he was also thrown into that river."

As he turned the pages of the homework, Han Fei saw the last diary entry of the boy, where it was written how much his dad loved him and had bought a lot of toys for him.

Then a detail caught Han Fei’s attention, several of the boy’s favorite toys mentioned in the diary were not found in the cardboard box.

At first glance, this seemed normal—a father cherishing his child, not consigning his son’s favorite toys to the second-hand store; he loved his child very much.

But all this presupposed that the child was still alive.

If the boy was already dead, then the few toys the father specifically kept behind became thought-provoking. Did he bury those toys out of guilt next to his son’s body? Or did those toys have too much blood on them to be sold? Or was he just a pure psychopath who wanted to feel his child’s warmth through those toys?

"Ding-dong, ding-dong..."

The sound came from the store’s entrance once again, Han Fei hadn’t expected the shop to have so many visitors so late at night.

He quietly stuffed the boy’s diary into his clothes, quickly restored the armchair to its original state, and with a professional, perfect smile, walked toward the shop’s entrance.

In front of the second-hand supermarket stood a delivery man, holding a sign in his hands and stammering something.

Because he was standing right at the entrance, neither coming in nor going out, the ding-dong sound kept ringing incessantly.

"Sister Huang Li, did you order takeout?"

"I didn’t! It must be a wrong delivery." Huang Li gestured for the delivery man to come in, but he waved his hands, his mouth opening and closing without being able to utter a complete sentence.

"Don’t panic." Han Fei glanced at him and noticed a large amount of soup and grease stains on the back of the delivery man’s pants as well as a small burn on his arm: "Did something happen on the way? Did you spill the soup and rice you were delivering?"

Hearing Han Fei’s voice, the delivery man nodded his head vigorously, his mouth wide open, dragging out his words: "So, sorry..."

When the delivery man spoke, the skin on his face involuntarily twitched, and he could not control his expressions.

"The takeout isn’t our order. Are you sure you didn’t deliver to the wrong place?"

"The address—department store... this." The delivery man took out his phone, pointing at it persistently: "Phone, nobody answered."

"Hold on! This seems to be the security guard’s number." Huang Li took out her phone and made a call, which was answered directly on the other end: "Did you order takeout? The guy has already delivered it. Where are you all?"

After a while, the lights of the mall elevator came on, and two night-shift security guards came over. When they saw the extremely disheveled delivery man, there was no surprise in their eyes, as if they had expected him to spill the soup and rice all along.

"Can you two stop dawdling?"

"This kid is five minutes late; if anyone is dawdling, it’s him." The security guard, who had just been scolded by Zhu Wei, now raised his head, extending his hand in front of the delivery man: "So you’re late, but where is the takeout?"

"So, sorry." The delivery man wrung his hands as if very scared, his face flushed with urgency, but he couldn’t articulate anything.

"I asked you, where is the takeout!" The security guard’s voice began to rise, as if he wanted to vent all the anger he had just experienced.

As the security guard pressed closer and his voice grew louder, the delivery man seemed to be frightened; he turned and ran to Exit C, pushing his electric bike to the door before hurrying back in with the takeout box still dripping with soup.

"Stand still! You’re making the floor dirty!"

The delivery man’s fingers were scalded red, his arms trembling, but he stopped in his tracks, not daring to put the takeout box on the floor.

"Give it to me." Han Fei spoke softly as he reached for the takeout box.

Scalding soup splashed onto his palm, sticky and hot.

Upon opening the box, all four portions of lamb soup had been spilled.

"What are we going to do now? And don’t say that we are bullying a person with a disability! Everyone has it tough. This is our first meal of the day, so what do we do now?" The two security guards stood one to each side of the delivery man, who, clearly intellectually challenged, held his hand dripping with lamb soup, gasping for breath without being able to say a word.

"You’re the one who spilled it. You compensate." The security guard took out his phone: "If you don’t pay up, you’re not leaving today."

The delivery man was unable to utter a complete word but kept on making strange noises. It seemed like he wanted to back away, but was grabbed by the neck by the other security guard.

He seemed to have observed the delivery man beforehand, his hand sliding into the delivery man’s collar, and directly broke the string tied around his neck.

On the string hung a work badge, upon which was written, as if by a child practicing penmanship: "Hello, I am the father of Wang Ping’an, who has had autism since childhood. If he does anything wrong, I hope you can contact me. I will come as soon as possible. Our address is number 15 Shahe Street, my phone number is... "

"Stop wasting words with him, just call his old man." The security guard read out the phone number from the badge, while the other began to dial.

"There are only the two of you on the night shift. Do you two really need four portions of soup? And with so much meat added? Aren’t you afraid of stuffing yourselves sick?" Han Fei took out a container of lamb soup from the delivery box: "It’s already difficult to deliver lamb soup, and there’s a problem with the restaurant’s packaging. You’re only able to bully this intellectually challenged delivery man."

"Do you decide whether there’s a problem with the restaurant’s packaging?"

"I have indeed worked as a delivery man before and am pretty good at packaging food." Han Fei had used the delivery box to hold many corpses in Death Building: "Your lamb soup spilled, and it’s okay to vent, but you have to find the right target to vent at. The way this poor-quality meal box is packed, it feels like the restaurant is intentionally setting people up."

"I remember now!" Huang Li suddenly spoke up, pointing at one of the security guards: "Little Li’s wife came to the city a couple of months ago and opened a sheep offal shop next to No. 3 Middle School."

Han Fei glanced at the delivery man’s phone, and indeed, the pickup location was near No. 3 Middle School.

"So that’s it? Business is bad, so you decided to dump all this near-spoiled mutton all at once? Looking at the map, Wang Ping’an’s father’s address on Shahe Street is quite close to No. 3 Middle School. Does this delivery man often pick up orders from your wife’s shop?" Han Fei was quick to respond, instantly seeing through the security guard’s subterfuge.

"Are you swindling a disabled person who is still out delivering at this hour? Are you two even human?" Huang Li was also getting angry: "And to think I used to find you agreeable, even doing night shifts together with you."

Now exposed, the two security guards stopped pretending. They stood together, looking at Huang Li: "Don’t make it sound like you’re so great. If you’re really that good, why didn’t you tell the newbie about what happened in your shop?"

The security guard named Little Li snorted coldly, then looked at Han Fei: "Kid, do you know why a second-hand supermarket needs to stay open past midnight? Do you know why there has to be someone here for twenty hours? Don’t be fooled by this fox demon full of lies. Someone died in this store before! Whoever takes the night shift dies!"