I tried to open my eyes and wanted to see who was talking, but found that I could not move at all and could not even hold up my eyelids.

In desperation, I bit my lips hard, and with a burning sensation, I finally could move.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the room was still dark and dark, it turned out to be just a nightmare.

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and lit a cigarette to calm myself down. I guess it was because I had just drunk a few sips of wine. When I went upstairs, I was blown by the wind in the hall in the aisle, and the alcohol came up unknowingly, so I fell asleep on the floor in a daze.

Looking back on the situation just now, I can really think about it day and night and dream about it. All I thought about was navigation charts before, so I naturally had this happen when I was asleep.

However, the atmosphere in the dream was a bit weird, and the voice seemed very familiar, but I couldn't remember who it was.

After a long time of slowing down, I finished smoking cigarettes. It seems that nothing will happen tonight.

It started to rain outside. I opened my phone blankly and realized that it was already eleven o'clock. Then I saw a text message coming in, which was sent to me by Yun Jin, which read: Where are you?

Yun Jin is my college classmate, a girl born in Suzhou in Jiangnan.

But her behavior is not like a Suzhou girl who speaks Wudi's soft words at all. Instead, she is very careless, which is quite close to me.

After graduating from college, Yun Jin followed me and opened a detective agency together, which was my partner.

I typed a few words intermittently, and felt that I hadn't told her about what happened today, so I said it was not appropriate for me to break into a ghost building now, so I replied and slept at home.

After sending the text message, I immediately turned off my phone. I didn't want to be shocked by the sudden ringtone of my phone in such an environment.

Just as I picked up the flashlight, I suddenly saw a diary spread on the floor. It must have been because the light was too dark when I came in.

I picked up the diary and wiped the dust on it. I found that this thing has been around for a long time. The cover is made of very delicate cowhide and some golden patterns are burnt on it.

I opened the book curiously and thought it was an ordinary diary, but I didn't expect that the contents were all written in Japanese.

When I was in college, I specially enrolled in a Japanese study class with her. Later, the girl didn't get it, but instead learned a few sentences of Japanese. Therefore, I can roughly understand the above content.

I put the strong flashlight on the bookshelf next to me and aimed it at the diary. After carefully turning over a few pages, I suddenly felt something was wrong.

The owner of this diary is named Nobu Watanabe, which records the entire process of his forced enlistment by the Japanese Army after graduating from Tokyo Imperial University in 1937 and then being sent to China to participate in the war.

This book was a birthday gift from a Chinese female student he met in college. They had done chemistry experiments together, and the relationship seemed to be pretty good.

At the same time, some research materials were recorded in the diary, and it seemed that he specialized in chemistry.

Thinking of what Liang Zi said, Building No. 6 was the place where the Japanese devils studied biological and chemical weapons during the Japanese occupation period, so the identity of this person was self-evident.

From his lines, I can see that this person is very pessimistic, always lamenting his bad luck, and many times he mentioned that he wanted to end his life by committing suicide by committing suicide. I couldn't help but secretly scold this grandson for doing so many bad things and having the face to blame others here.

The more I read the diary, the less content I read, and I often summarize the whole day in one or two sentences.

But when I turned to the last few pages, I was shocked and sweated in a cold sweat, because I clearly saw that the last time he wrote his diary was - 2009!

Could it be that this Japanese man has been alive and lives here? He is also the one who sealed the door from inside?

So is he related to the Black Rakshasa who attacked the group of Red Guards back then? Or will the navigation chart be in his hands?

A series of questions made me feel a little anxious. At this time, cigarettes were the tranquilizer I needed the most, but the cigarette box was empty when I picked it up. I remembered that one of them accidentally fell just now, so I hurriedly bent down to look for it.

There was no smoke in the place where the flashlight swept, but I suddenly found that there was a big mark in the series of footprints I stepped on, and it didn't look like it was stepped on by a human.

My neck was cold again, and I felt that my hair was about to stand up at this moment.

I have thought of several questions just now, but what I haven't thought about is - where is the owner of that diary?

But from another perspective, ordinary people's feet should not be that big. Even if the Japanese named Watanabe Shin-chan was as tall as Yao Ming, their footprints would not be exaggerated to this extent.

Unless... I meet the legendary Black Rakshasa!

I held the flashlight and the sweat beads on my face couldn't stop falling. The only idea in my heart was to run away while nothing had happened yet.

Just as I was about to turn around, I suddenly heard an extremely hoarse voice, "Is my diary good-looking?"

When I heard this sound, my legs almost instantly became soft. It was not that I was really so vulnerable, but that I was in such a state of high mental tension, and suddenly I heard other people's greetings but was not at all friendly.

But in just a moment, the next moment I immediately raised the crowbar in my hand and turned around and shouted, "Who? Who is there?"

I saw a tall black shadow walking into the dim corridor. Through the flashlight, I could see that it was covered with messy black hair. Its legs were no different from ordinary people, but its soles were surprisingly large.

And its arms seemed to be scalded by boiling water, all of which were bulging pussies, some of which were broken, and there was a liquid like soy sauce.

Apart from the few pieces of tattered military green cloth covering the lower body, its whole body was almost naked.

I couldn't help but be stunned. Could it be that it was the owner of the diary, the devil named Watanabe Shin-chan?

But no matter how you look at it, it doesn’t look like a human being! Could it be that it turned into a rice dumpling after a person dies?

Thinking of this, I couldn't help but stretched out the crowbar on my hand.

I heard the black shadow sneer and said to me in a very stiff tone: "Do you think this stick can block me?"

I said unwillingly: "Then you can give it a try!"

It did not make a sound but slowly walked to me. Only then did I see clearly that its face was almost full of irregular flesh folds, which looked disgusting and terrifying.

And its two eye beads bulged out like copper bells hanging on a flat wall, one of which had no eyelids.

I tried to keep myself calm, but I had never encountered this situation before, so I could not tell whether the thing in front of me was a human, a ghost or a rice dumpling.

When it found that I was still very alert, it waved its hand contemptuously and knocked off the crowbar on my hand and asked viciously: "What are you here for? Looking for me?"

I tentatively said, "You are Watanabe Shin-chan?"

"Then who do you think I will be?" He smiled ghostly, then pressed my shoulder and pressed me down on the floor.

I don't know if I should find an opportunity to escape at this time, but I know very well that if I dare to do anything, I will definitely die miserably.

Credit Watanabe rubbed against the floor with his huge soles, and then fiddled with his messy hair while asking me: "Do you want to know my story? I haven't spoken for a long time."

I nodded quickly and felt relieved, thinking that as long as I follow his wishes, I might find an opportunity to escape until dawn.

Besides, I also want to know what he has experienced. After all, the one who has lived from the Anti-Japanese War to the present is already an old man over 80 or 90 years old. He not only looks strange but also very strong.

There was a very unpleasant smell on his body, like a rotten dead pig soaked in the pesticide, which was both pungent and disgusting, making people feel uncomfortable, so I had to keep turning my head off and breathing.

But he didn't seem to mind my actions, but instead moved backwards on his own initiative, which surprised me a little.

However, after more than ten minutes, he never spoke again, just paced around me back and forth. Such waiting made me feel uncomfortable.
Chapter completed!