Chapter 313: The Clown
Chapter 313: The Clown
‘Zhi Hua…’
Zuo Meng sighed.
He wondered if he was getting old.
Time had taken much from him, blurring his memories. He didn’t understand how protagonists in tales could remember everyone while attaining immortality. He certainly couldn’t—only a handful of names remained after all these years. Like aging people, he forgot many things. Memories were selective. Zuo Meng could recall everything by returning to the Dream Realm and manipulating the rules of time and memory.
But was such recollection truly his own?
‘Perhaps I’m no longer human.’
Zuo Meng mocked himself.
He was the Creator! Yet what did being the Creator mean? Where had he come from? Where was he headed?
“What did you want to ask earlier?”
The sanitation worker’s voice snapped Zuo Meng back to reality.
“Do you know the Murong family? The one in Snowstorm City?” Zuo Meng inquired. He believed that as a top family in the Underworld, the Murong family must hold significant influence in the outer world too. Take Zhou Dongfang of Linmu City—President of the city alliance in the Underworld and Mayor in the outer world.
Identities in the Underworld and outer world didn’t clash.
“Yes. Follow this road straight…”
After giving directions, the sanitation worker resumed sweeping.
Her shift was far from over.
“Thank you.”
Zuo Meng’s gaze pierced through time, glimpsing her fate—a simple use of rules. While he couldn’t perceive the entire world, observing an ordinary person was effortless. He withdrew his vision, then fished out a coin from his pocket.
It was outer world currency from Snowstorm City, retrieved from the house where the chubby man had hidden. Now, through his touch, it became a spiritual treasure for protection.
“Kindness deserves respect.”
He flicked the coin into the whirling snow, where it landed precisely in the sanitation worker’s pocket.
With this done, Zuo Meng turned toward the Murong family’s location.
After finishing her rounds, the sanitation worker stored her tools.
She drove her sanitation tricycle along the familiar route, one she could navigate blindfolded. Yet today, an uneasy sense of being followed clung to her.
Dawn hadn’t broken over the frost-locked streets.
Dim streetlights and howling winds painted a bleak scene.
The tricycle, issued by her workplace, creaked steadily over icy pavement—reliable through years of service.
*Thud!*
Her heart lurched at the muffled impact.
An unnameable dread crept closer. Normally she’d investigate, but today she gripped the throttle and sped forward.
*Thud! Thud!*
More than ten minutes passed, and the strange sound reappeared, this time twice.
“I couldn’t go any further.”
Once this thought arose, the sanitation worker couldn’t suppress her fear. She turned her vehicle around and drove home. The street was less than three minutes from her house. In the fate Zuo Meng foresaw, she’d return home regardless—the thing had already targeted her, and it would force her back.
The drive home passed without incident.
She rushed upstairs, keys clashing as she fumbled at the door. The noise woke those inside.
The door opened.
“Mom?”
A sturdy little boy sighed in relief upon seeing his mother.
“Close the door!”
The sanitation worker felt inexplicable dread, as if pursued. She’d only felt this once before—as a child chased by a beast. After moving to Snowstorm City, she’d never experienced it again. Today’s events revived those buried memories.
“What’s wrong?”
A middle-aged man in electrician’s clothes stared at his shaken wife.
They were both remarried, their first marriages unhappy. But they’d built a new life together, with the little boy as their shared joy.
“Nothing.”
She shook her head, not wanting to worry them with vague fears.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The noise returned.
Three strikes now.
“It’s real!”
The sanitation worker paled. The sound was chasing her. Had she kept driving toward work, it would’ve caught her by the third strike.
“Who’s there? You’ve been jumpy all day.”
The middle-aged man grabbed his tools and approached the door.
“Don’t!”
Too late—he peered through the peephole.
A clown-costumed figure stood outside. Sensing observation, it tilted its head up and smiled.
Its mouth split into a crescent reaching both ears.
Needle-like teeth glinted, flecked with dried gore.
“Good morning!”
The hellish voice awakened primal terror. The clown’s face liquefied, twisting toward the peephole.
The man staggered back, collapsing.
“Wh-what’s that?!”
“Mom!”
The boy clung to the sanitation worker.
Why?
Why did such monsters exist?
Though she didn’t look, the terror unlocked childhood memories. Now she remembered—she’d encountered this creature long ago in the countryside. Her mind had buried the nightmare.
Clang!
The door blew open. Cold air rushed in.
The family shivered. When they looked, nothing was there—only footprints proved the clown’s reality.
“Where is it?!”
The man gripped his wrench, shielding his family.
“Looking for me?”
A voice whispered in his ear.