Day after day, Rachel ran all over the city by herself, seeking out monks and Taoist priests to examine Mason Wan’s condition. She tried every possible method, but Mason never woke up.
Rachel didn’t give up. She kept searching for people who could see ghosts. In this vast sea of humanity, just visiting temples and fortune-telling stalls was already difficult enough.
Rachel began to rack her brains, wondering where such people might appear.
But then, Rachel thought of something. She realized that she had to first figure out what had happened to Mason Wan. After all, it was only after Mason underwent eye surgery and received a corneal transplant that he could see ghosts—and the source of that cornea was crucial.
To get to the bottom of it, Rachel approached Mason Wan’s parents and told them everything. Skeptical but willing, Mason’s parents eventually revealed what they knew.
They explained that the eye had been obtained through a trusted acquaintance, but they didn’t know exactly where it came from.
Mason Wan’s parents called that acquaintance and gave Rachel permission to go ask in person.
Following the address, Rachel arrived at 63 Springbright Road Apartments. She knocked on the door of unit 709 on the seventh floor. It took a while before someone answered—a small elderly man, well past fifty, half-squinting and looking lazy. The curtains were drawn throughout the apartment.
Rachel stepped inside and immediately panicked. The place was dim, and every table was crowded with large jars containing human organs. Rachel was too frightened to move.
"Don’t be scared, young lady. I’m not a bad person—I’m a forensic pathologist. These are specimens, evidence from autopsies. Don’t mind them. There was a fire at the police department’s storage facility a few years ago, so I brought the cases I was responsible for home with me."
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, though she still felt uneasy.
Dr. Leonard, the veteran forensic pathologist, had been in the profession since he was twenty—now fifty-one, with thirty-one years of experience. He was a friend of Mason Wan’s parents and had watched Mason grow up. He never expected Mason would go through something like this.
According to Dr. Leonard, hundreds—sometimes thousands—of people die every year, and there are plenty of unsolved cases. Many bodies go unclaimed, and the forensic team’s job is to perform autopsies and uncover the cause of death.
Mason Wan’s cornea came from one of those unclaimed bodies lying in the morgue. Dr. Leonard looked helpless as he spoke—he knew this was against his professional ethics.
So when he delivered the cornea, he repeatedly warned Mason Wan’s parents not to tell anyone. They agreed, but Dr. Leonard still felt uneasy about it.
"Please tell me, whose body was the cornea taken from?"
Rachel looked at Dr. Leonard intently. He sighed, deeply puzzled by the series of strange events surrounding Mason Wan. After a lifetime spent with corpses, even he had encountered a few bizarre cases.
Dr. Leonard wasn’t entirely skeptical about ghosts. He began to recount the bizarre events surrounding the original owner of the cornea.
One late night, the North City Police Station received a bizarre emergency call. It was considered strange because the call came in at 1:03 a.m., and the caller reported a murder, giving the location in detail.
Twenty minutes later, the police arrived and found the corpse of a man, about twenty-eight years old. Other than a wallet with some cash, there was no ID or anything else on him.
The strangest thing about the corpse was that all its skin was missing, as if it had been peeled off—leaving behind only bloody flesh. Some of the younger officers at the scene were so terrified their legs gave out. Even the veterans, who’d seen their share of murders, found this crime scene bizarre.
The victim’s death was horrifying. All ten fingers had been broken, stretched forward as if someone had pinned him down and snapped each finger with brute force.
The call was even stranger: the autopsy determined the time of death was before 11 p.m., but the emergency call came in at 1:03 a.m.
The situation was recorded. Many officers reviewed it and found it incredible. The caller was extremely panicked, as if hiding from something—clearly not faking it. Some suspected the killer might have called, but the phone found at the scene confirmed the call was placed at 10:31 p.m.
This case became a complete mystery. There was no evidence at all. Even after collecting everything around the victim, there were no footprints—the victim had died in a patch of muddy ground.
Given how violent the scene was, there should have been traces of the killer—but only the victim’s struggle was evident. Some officers whispered that maybe a ghost was responsible, and the case was quietly dropped.
Dr. Leonard took over the case. The victim had died in agony—skinned alive, bled out, and died of shock. The body was stored in the basement.
Two years ago, Mason Wan had his accident. Dr. Leonard couldn’t bear to see his old friend’s son go blind, so he searched the corpse for a usable cornea—and found one.
After hearing all this, Rachel felt her scalp tingle. Dr. Leonard insisted that was all he knew and repeatedly told Rachel not to spread the story.
With a heavy heart, Rachel returned to the hospital room. Mason Wan lay on the bed, face pale, unconscious for almost three months. No matter how many tests they ran, his body was perfectly healthy.
With no other options left, Rachel spent every day asking around for someone with real power. Through a friend, she heard about a fortune-teller who only saw seven clients a day—never more.
Skeptical but curious, Rachel went to a remote street. Strangely, there was always a long line outside one shop—Mr. Sage's Fortune Shop. Many people waited, hoping the master inside would read their fortune.
Inside was an elderly, white-haired master who truly only saw seven people each day. Rachel waited at the door until everyone else had left; at midnight, she bravely knocked. The old man answered.
"Master, you say you only see seven people a day. Well, today, I’m the first one."
The old man smiled kindly and invited Rachel in. He studied her face, then shook his head.
"Young lady, go home. The one you wish to save cannot return. Your face shows you’ll bring luck to a husband—choose another partner. He’s not right for you; you two are already separated by life and death."
No matter how Rachel pressed him, the old man said nothing more. Disappointed, Rachel left.
Rachel had never felt so lost. Her parents found out what she was doing, brought her home, and scolded her. Mason Wan probably would never wake up, they said, and urged Rachel to move on.
But the more her parents said this, the less Rachel wanted to give up. She started a broader investigation and decided to ask Dr. Leonard again.
This time, Dr. Leonard wasn’t home, so Rachel went straight to the North City Police Station.
She finally found Dr. Leonard and asked to see the corpse. After much persistence, he agreed and, after work, secretly took Rachel to the City Morgue.
The moment she entered, Rachel was terrified. Still, she forced herself to look at the corpse—and ended up vomiting as soon as she came out.
"Child, I probably can’t help you. But in Haven City, there’s a Special Crimes Division. I’ve heard they handle countless unsolved cases nationwide every year, all in secret."
Hope rekindled in Rachel’s heart. She decided to head to Haven City.
But when she arrived, Rachel found nothing—there was no Special Crimes Division. It was just a rumor among the police; the department didn’t exist.
Rachel tried everything, but couldn’t find any trace of the Special Crimes Division. Frustrated, she called Dr. Leonard again, angrily asking if he was just messing with her.
On the phone, Dr. Leonard told Rachel about another unsolved case from when he was in his thirties—a headless case. Eight people died in a row, and the authorities sent down a team of officers dressed in black, very different from the locals.
Dr. Leonard performed the autopsies. Those officers asked him many questions, and a month later, the case was dropped. The eight headless corpses were cremated, and the case disappeared.
Everything was strange. Later, Dr. Leonard heard from others that this department was very secretive, with authority even higher than the local police chief.
That alone gave Rachel hope—she started hanging around the North City Police Station, hoping to find the chief and ask him directly.
The chief here was a man named Director Wei, newly appointed and known for his playful nature. Rachel waited outside, dressed up, with a fake press card, microphone, and recorder. When Director Wei came out, she approached him, claiming to be a reporter from the City Lights program, hoping to investigate and inviting him to dinner.