194: Chapter 194 Family in the Mirror
The group stepped onto the wooden stairs, tiptoeing up to the second floor.
In Mirai's room, Sadako was the first to enter, her gaze quickly scanning the surroundings.
Nobody was there.
The tatami on the floor was empty; Isobe Atsushi, who should have been unconscious from a heavy blow, had disappeared.
Not only that.
Sadako abruptly turned her head toward the windowsill.
The glass window on the second floor was intact, the curtains hung neatly on both sides, and there wasn't even a single shard of glass on the floor.
Mirai also noticed this eerie phenomenon. She walked quickly to the window and reached out to touch the cold glass; it felt real.
Akane clutched the corner of her clothes, her face pale.
"Interesting." Emma leaned toward the window and tapped the glass with her small hand, producing a crisp sound.
She turned to look at Sadako, her smile growing more radiant. "Sister Sadako, did you feel it? The magnetic field of this house seems to have been forcibly distorted by something."
Sadako's brow furrowed.
It was more than just distorted.
From the moment she stepped into this house, she felt her breathing become somewhat labored.
That cold, viscous substance in the air was constantly stimulating her perception of vengeful spirits.
"I'll leave it to you." Emma took two steps back, clearing the stage. "Sister Sadako, try to feel where the most disgusting place in this house is."
Having accepted favors and living under someone else's roof, she had to comply.
Sadako could only sigh and resign herself to her fate.
She closed her eyes and cleared her mind. A few seconds later...
The surrounding temperature began to drop rapidly, making Mirai and Akane shiver from the cold.
In Sadako's dark vision, the entire house was filled with a faint black mist.
But within this mist, an extremely thick line of Resentment, so black it almost seemed to drip ink, was continuously pouring out from a room at the end of the hallway.
"Over there."
Sadako snapped her eyes open, turned around, and walked out of the uncle's room, heading toward the innermost part of the hallway.
Emma immediately followed, and the two young girls supported each other, following behind tremulously.
Sadako stopped in front of a tightly closed wooden door.
Mirai whispered, "This is the storage room; people rarely go in."
Without hesitation, Sadako grabbed the door handle and twisted it open.
The door hinges let out a piercing screech.
The storage room was dimly lit, filled with unopened cardboard boxes, old newspapers, and a pile of worn-out clothes belonging to someone unknown.
Sadako's gaze bypassed the cluttered boxes and locked onto something in the corner of the room.
It was a half-height, old-fashioned dressing mirror.
The solid wood frame was carved with intricate patterns, the mirror surface was slightly yellowed, and there were several black mold spots in the corners.
It stood quietly amidst the pile of junk, yet it emitted an extremely discordant sense of intrusion.
In Sadako's eyes, that thick, impenetrable black Resentment was seeping out from the edges of the dressing mirror like viscous tar, spreading through the cracks in the floorboards to every corner of the house.
"It's that mirror." Sadako pointed to the corner. "All the Resentment seems to be coming from inside that mirror."
Emma walked to the front of the mirror and stopped.
The mirror clearly reflected her petite body and innocent face.
Emma tilted her head, looking at herself in the mirror.
Something was wrong.
She had clearly tilted her head, but the "Emma" in the mirror was a full half-second slow before following the movement.
Even the curvature of the smile on the girl's face in the mirror was more exaggerated than Emma's own, exuding a spine-chilling malice.
Just as Emma was about to smash the mirror with a punch...
"Clang!" The front door at the entrance on the first floor was violently pushed open.
This was followed by the sound of noisy footsteps.
"Bakayaro, Mirai! What the hell are you doing at home?!"
Hearing this voice, Mirai shuddered violently. It was the voice of her grandfather, Isobe Kentaro.
The chaotic footsteps rapidly approached the second floor via the stairs.
A thin, withered old man wearing a dark gray shirt, with white hair and deep wrinkles all over his face, appeared in the hallway.
Behind him followed a submissive middle-aged woman—the grandmother, Isobe Miho.
Miho was tightly supporting an old lady with a dull gaze and drool dripping from the corner of her mouth.
As soon as Isobe Kentaro reached the second floor, he saw the four girls standing at the door of the storage room.
"What are you doing?!" Isobe Kentaro strode over and pointed rudely at Mirai's nose, scolding her, "Didn't I tell you not to bring those shady people from outside into the house? Do you treat my words as wind passing through your ears?"
Mirai was so frightened she backed away two steps, tears welling in her eyes. "Grandfather... it's not like that... it's Uncle..."
"What about Atsushi?" Hearing his son's name, Kentaro's brow furrowed even tighter.
"Uncle, he just... he tried to hurt me!" Mirai finally burst into tears, pointing at Emma and Sadako. "They saved me! Also, there's a ghost in the house! Right in that mirror!"
These words were like lighting the fuse of a powder keg.
In this extremely traditional and high-pressure Japanese family, "losing face" was a sin more serious than death.
Kentaro's thirty-year-old son was a failure who stayed at home every day and couldn't pass the bar exam; he already felt he couldn't hold his head up in front of the neighbors.
Now, this granddaughter had actually brought outsiders into the house to gossip about her own uncle, and even claimed there was a ghost!
If word of this got out, where would Isobe Kentaro's face be?
"Baka! You damn brat!" Kentaro suddenly raised his hand and slapped Mirai hard across the face.
The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the hallway.
Mirai was knocked to the ground, half of her face instantly becoming red and swollen.
Kentaro pointed at Mirai on the floor, spittle flying everywhere. "It wasn't enough to make a fool of yourself outside, and now you're making up stories about your uncle!"
After finishing his tirade against Mirai, Kentaro suddenly turned to glare at Emma and Sadako, his eyes as fierce as if he wanted to devour them.
"Get out!" He pointed toward the stairs. "Get out of my house immediately! If you dare step into my yard again, I'll call the police and have you thieves arrested!"
Sadako's face darkened completely, her fists involuntarily clenching. She had a natural, visceral disgust for this kind of domestic violence.
The air around her began to drop in temperature again when a pair of cold little hands suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Sadako turned her head to see Emma looking at her with a beaming smile.
"Alright, alright, don't be angry." Emma's tone was relaxed as she pulled Sadako toward the stairs.
Kentaro gave a cold snort and slammed the storage room door shut.
...
A few minutes later, the heavy iron gate at the entrance slammed shut behind them.
Standing under the scorching sun, Sadako finally couldn't help herself. She looked at Emma with a frown. "Are we just leaving like this? The Resentment in that house is so thick it's about to overflow..."
"What else?" Emma stopped, took another gummy out of her pocket, threw it into her mouth, and chewed with a loud crunch.
She glanced back at the drab second-hand villa, the smile on her face gradually disappearing, her eyes revealing an absolute indifference and a morbid anticipation.
"This family is rotten from the inside out. That old man cares more about his reputation; even if his son is a pervert, he'll only blame the girl for being sensible." Emma walked lightheartedly toward the end of the street with her hands behind her back.
Sadako stood frozen in place. "Then what about Mirai?"
"Good advice is hard to give to a ghost destined to die." Emma didn't turn her head, her voice drifting into Sadako's ears with the wind. "If we forced our hand during the day, it might not be as fun."
Emma stopped, turned around, and gave Sadako a big smile.
"When it gets dark and most of this family is dead, we'll come back to collect the heads."