We walked along the path. Up front, the taxi driver Stanley Zhang led the way. Sean Wu and Louis Liu chatted happily, while the brothers Edward Lee and Mason Lee looked gloomy—especially Mason Lee. I caught his gaze: a vicious glare fixed on Louis Liu.
It feels like the story has already begun. All I can hope for is that Ken Wang finds me, since I still don’t know how to break out of this story. From what I’ve pieced together, the goal is simple: find the ghost.
But before we find the ghost, there’s bound to be a murder. Harvey Zhou’s eyes glimmered with excitement; it was as if, in his mind, he’d already imagined dismembering Louis Liu countless times.
"Look, what’s that?"
Just then, Stanley Zhang—the taxi driver—shouted. We all stopped. Something flashed past in the woods to our left.
I was sure I hadn’t imagined it—something was definitely there. At first, I wondered if it was Ken Wang, but there were no footprints on the ground.
"Could it be a ghost? People die here every year!"
Louis Liu joked, and Sean Wu burst out laughing.
"I think you’re all seeing things. There’s nothing out here." he said, then walked into the woods on the left, glancing around.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so we kept moving. Soon, we reached the so-called skiing area—a gentle slope to the right, blanketed in white, with a wide, clear view.