Chapter 22: Awakening
Chapter 22: Awakening
Fang Jing woke from his sleep, hearing the sound of a window being blown open by the wind. When he stood up, the splatter of rain slapped against half the window; the other half was wide open, and plenty of rain, driven by the slanting wind, had blown inside, wetting the table.
He got up and went to the window, intending to close it.
Creak—!
At that very moment, he accidentally caught a sound from outside his door.
Fang Jing glanced at the digital clock. It was around two or three in the morning. So late… could it be that Mother had come home?
“No, that’s not right. I remember she’s on a full night shift today, plus with the swapped leave, she shouldn’t be back until seven tomorrow morning.”
If it wasn’t Mother, then what was that door-opening sound?
Could it be a thief in the house?
This thought made Fang Jing’s heart jump. He couldn’t help but push open the door to his room.
Whoosh! So cold!
Hugging his shoulders, he noticed the living room was unusually chilly. Moreover, the apartment’s front door was wide open, letting a gloomy, icy wind blow in from outside. No wonder it felt unexpectedly cold from the start.
Stepping out of his bedroom, he moved to the entrance hall. He saw the rain outside the apartment was getting heavier. He was just about to close the apartment door when he realized something: only his shoes were on the shoe rack.
“Satsuki is home too, so why are only my shoes here…?”
The opening sound might have been the wind blowing the door open, but the shoe situation was strange. Adding to that was the incident from last time, plus this apartment building always felt a bit off…
A bad feeling stirred in Fang Jing’s heart. To check on his sister, he ran to Satsuki’s door.
He knocked first. There was no answer. So, he opened the door.
Satsuki’s room was much smaller than his. Originally a storage space, turning it into a room with a bed and other items made it feel cramped.
The furnishings were simple. If it weren’t for the stuffed toys on the bed and a few girlish touches, you wouldn’t know it belonged to a girl at all.
“Damn! No one’s here…”
The room was empty. Completely empty. The bedding on the bed was pulled back, the sheets crumpled into a pile. It seemed she had been in bed.
Fang Jing pressed his hand lightly against the sheets. They held a faint trace of warmth.
“She didn’t leave long ago. But she’s not anywhere else in the apartment… Where on earth did she go?”
It was the middle of the night! Where could Satsuki possibly run off to?
He narrowed his eyes. This probably wasn’t simple.
Fang Jing went back to his room and threw on a jacket. He decided to go out. It was very likely Satsuki had left the apartment.
But where could she possibly go this late?
Running away from home?
Impossible… With her kind of personality, she wouldn’t take it that far.
Honestly, Fang Jing wasn’t particularly fond of his sister. Personality-wise… To put it nicely, she was gentle and obedient. To put it bluntly, she was completely submissive.
Despite enduring long-term family abuse, Nishizuka Satsuki never told anyone outside. She harbored no resentment towards her mother or brother. On the contrary, she desperately tried to be a “good girl” – at least, seeming completely normal at school, with no one knowing about the torment at home.
Fang Jing felt Nishizuka Satsuki’s mindset wasn’t healthy. She fully accepted her victim role.
Fang Jing was someone who disliked pitying victims. The reason was simple: though the world has many bullies, the ones who suffer the most are often those who submit.
Why? Because the victims don’t fight back. And Satsuki’s case was worse. She didn’t just lack the will to resist; she actively yielded to the family’s cruelty.
Mother Motoko’s abuse and beatings started when their father was still alive. She never told Father. She never made a sound when her brother bullied her either.
Her efforts to be obedient at home, her desperate attitude towards chores—it was incredibly perplexing. As if she’d been completely broken in.
Fang Jing suspected Satsuki’s weakness, her unconditional submission to the family, might stem from some sort of “Stockholm syndrome”.
This phenomenon supposedly existed. Some children in abusive environments tried to mask or ignore the pain using psychological defenses: rationalizing, identifying with the abuser, denial, repression, dissociation.
These ways could soothe their mental distress. Abusers often insisted: “This is because you did wrong,” “You got hit because you were bad,” “A bad kid like you deserves punishment.”
Mentally immature teens and children often internalized this. They needed a belief that made the pain acceptable. Not dwelling on suffering, they sank into a numb state of mind.
Still, right now, to Fang Jing, Satsuki was technically the original him’s sister. He did have a basic obligation to look out for her.
He went straight out the door, determined to find his sister.
Strangely, the motion-activated hallway lights weren’t working. No lights. Suffocating darkness surrounded him.
The night was very dark. Combined with the relentless curtain of rain, it felt like everything except his phone’s light was swallowed by inky blackness. Before Fang Jing, darkness stretched deep into the corridor.
A hint of caution rose in Fang Jing’s chest. He gripped the Bamboo Sword he’d brought with him.
The hallway was eerily black. He walked a few steps forward, planning to go around to the end of the corridor to look.
Whoosh…
A sudden gust of wind brushed his ear. Fang Jing spun around instantly, but found nothing behind him.
Thump!
A heavy, muffled sound echoed in the dark. Fang Jing realized then: his own apartment door had slammed shut, blown by the wind.
“Whatever… I have the keys anyway.”
He wasn’t immediately worried. Instead, he pushed forward cautiously.
Splish!
Something slithered rapidly away past his trouser legs.
Shining his Phone forward, his heart lurched. A jolt of pure fear shot through him, icy panic flooding his body.
A severed head landed like a leather ball just ahead of him.
He fixed his eyes on the head—and identified it with horror. It was Nishizuka Satsuki’s face.
Her head. Severed. A lonely, disembodied thing lying only a few feet away.
“…Satsuki?”
He took a step towards it, wanting to be certain if it was his sister. That’s when surreal horror struck. The blood-drenched head snapped its eyes open wide, locking onto him with pure hate and malice.
“Why… why didn’t you help me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”
It shrieked in a piercing voice.
“Satsuki!”
Even someone as unflappable as Fang Jing was startled by the talking head. Shock flashed across his face.
He instinctively recoiled, stumbling backward.
Just then—Fang Jing’s neck constricted violently! He felt a powerful force yank him backward! He struggled wildly, but something tight gripped his windpipe. Immense pressure crushed his neck! It felt like someone stood behind him, strangling him with a rope or something similar.
They were trying to suffocate him! If it continued, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Consciousness already began to blur.
He fumbled with his hands, clawing at the rope. But his arms felt unnaturally heavy. Pulling off whatever gripped his neck was impossible.
Damn it! He was going to die like this!
Fang Jing knew things were bad. He had absolutely no desire to be strangled to death.
(Whoever it is… behind me… I can’t pull the rope off… So, I’ll just crash BACKWARDS into them!)
A lightning bolt of survival instinct flashed through his mind.
He consciously arched his BACK. This tightened the stranglehold around his neck, immediately! But it also allowed him to gather force. A split-second later, he unleashed all his power through his spine!
In the next instant, he violently arched his back and slammed backwards! It was a terror unleashed by “Strength 2.8” and “Stamina 3.9”. With the force of the crash, his back crashed hard into something solid! A heavy crunch echoed.
The impact felt distinctly like something giving way behind him. The sound resembled… wood snapping.
Thud!
He felt icy cold all over. Then—sudden, sheer clarity washed over him.
As if he’d just been in a nightmare… abruptly jerked awake.
He gasped, looking around wildly. He was lying sprawled on the floor right outside his bedroom door. The wooden door itself sported a huge hole where it had been smashed.
Fang Jing raised his hand in confusion. He saw the broken DOOR KNOB. Still firmly attached to the shattered wood, tied securely to it…
…was a necktie. Knotted into a noose.
“Oh. My. God… My neck was just in this thing?! No wonder I felt like I was being strangled to death!”
But… No one had been there! From the start! He must have had some kind of… illusion? Hypnosis? He’d put his own neck into the noose tied to the door and almost strangled HIMSELF?!
An Illusion?!
Yes…! Everything that just happened made terrifying sense… if it was all an Illusion.