Chapter 23: Investigation

The cold light of Yin Xiran’s phone screen lit up their faces, each showing a different emotion.
The body in the photo, lying within the police tape, its outstretched posture and eerie calm, matched Chen Dongyang’s description of Jiang Yuxin’s “death” perfectly.

The serene death in the image sent shivers down their spines.

“…Yes,” Chen Dongyang said grimly, nodding with certainty.
“It’s exactly the same.”

Yin Qingle shrank behind her sister.
The photo chilled her to the core.
This wasn’t just a death—it felt like a ritual, as if an invisible force was claiming lives in a precise, patterned way.

Jiang Yuxin broke the silence first.
Her face showed no fear, only her usual composure.
She pulled her gaze from the photo and turned to Chen Dongyang, her voice steady and emotionless.
“So, in the ‘original’ timeline, I would’ve died here, in that exact way.”

She stated it, not asking.

Chen Dongyang opened his mouth but found no words.
He could only nod weakly.

“Heh,” Jiang Yuxin let out a faint, almost inaudible sneer.

Death didn’t scare her.
What she couldn’t stomach was dying beyond her control, like a puppet on strings.
Since her rebirth, she alone shaped others’ wills and fates.
Who dared to dictate her life and death?

That was unforgivable.

“The situation’s clear now,” Yin Xiran said, pocketing her phone.
Her forced calm was gone, replaced by a sharp, analytical expression beyond her years.
“Some entity or phenomenon we don’t yet understand is inducing ‘suicides.’ Its first target was Jiang, but Chen’s time-rewind ability stopped it. It failed.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping over them.
“So it moved to its second target—the senior this morning. This time, it succeeded.”

“Why would it do this?” Yin Qingle whispered, unable to hold back.
“Why… make people die?”

“I don’t know,” Yin Xiran admitted, shaking her head.
“The motive’s unclear. But we can confirm a few things. First, the method is consistent—eerily peaceful deaths. Second, the location ties to the old teaching building. Jiang’s ‘death’ was on the new campus rooftop, but you and Chen encountered something strange in the old building, and the second victim died right beneath it.”

Jiang Yuxin added, “The ‘inhuman thing’ in the old building took the music box we found.”

“Music box…” Yin Xiran’s eyes lit up.
“Could it be the key to this whole thing?”

“Very likely,” Chen Dongyang said, finding his voice, though it was hoarse.
“That thing lingered in the classroom, like it was searching. The music box was there before we hid, but gone when we came out.”

“A ‘shadow’ with no substance, leaving no footprints, yet making footsteps and taking objects,” Yin Xiran said, piecing the clues together.
A vague, unsettling picture formed in her mind.
“It’s like a ghost, but real, tied to that building, the music box, and these ‘suicides.’”

“So… what do we do now?” Yin Qingle asked, clutching her sister’s sleeve, her voice shaky.
“Should we tell the police? But… how? They won’t believe us.”

“Of course they won’t,” Jiang Yuxin said coldly.
“They’ll think you’re delusional teens who’ve read too many ghost stories. To them, the ‘suicide’ evidence is airtight. Relying on mortals who can’t even glimpse the world’s truth is the dumbest choice.”

Her words were blunt but undeniable.

The rooftop fell silent.
Four people, four unique abilities, facing a shared, looming threat.
They were the only ones who knew even a fraction of the truth, the only ones who could stop the next tragedy.

“We have to go back to the old school building,” Jiang Yuxin said.
Her gaze swept over them, her dark eyes allowing no argument, only resolute determination.
She needed answers.
She needed to find the one who dared target her and crush them.

“I agree,” Yin Xiran said instantly, her reasoning as clear as Jiang’s.
“Sitting idle gives that thing a chance to pick a third or fourth victim. We don’t know how it chooses—maybe the mentally vulnerable, maybe random. But waiting passively is the worst move. We need to act, find it before it strikes again, and figure out what it is.”

She turned to her sister, softening her voice.
“Besides, Qingle, we can’t let anyone else get hurt by this, right?”

Yin Qingle met her sister’s determined gaze, then glanced at Chen Dongyang’s solemn face.
Though scared, she knew she couldn’t stay out of it.
Chen’s words forced her to confront her own power, and now might be her chance to use it to protect someone.
She took a deep breath and nodded firmly.
“Yes!”

All eyes turned to Chen Dongyang.

He thought it over.
Did he even have a choice?
To prevent another tragedy, he had to find out.
His ability demanded it.

“I’m in,” he said, voice steadier than he expected.

“Good,” Jiang Yuxin said, satisfied.
She stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt, her tone commanding.
“The old teaching building is sealed by police. Going during the day would draw attention. Also, surveillance shows the suicide happened at night. So, we meet at the main entrance of the building at midnight tonight. Any objections?”

“No problem,” Yin Xiran said, standing and taking her sister’s hand.

“Um…” Chen Dongyang raised a hand hesitantly.
“Should we bring something? Like a flashlight, rope, or… weapons?”

Jiang Yuxin and Yin Xiran turned simultaneously, staring at him like he was an idiot.

“Classmate Chen,” Yin Xiran said, her devilish smile returning, “aren’t we the best weapons?”

Jiang Yuxin didn’t bother speaking.
She gave him a withering glance, as if to say, ‘Don’t drag us down with your mortal logic,’ then turned and left the rooftop with her elegant, aloof strides.

Chen Dongyang stood there, awkward.
Alright, he admitted it—compared to these girls with their extraordinary abilities, his mere seconds of rewind did feel… underwhelming.