Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Quickly, the man found a massage chair on a second-hand store website. The picture on the screen showed a Deep Black massage chair, its lines sleek and elegant, with wide and sturdy armrests. Under the light, it even had a hint of dark red trim, exuding a low-key yet stable aura. Although there were some signs of wear, with the leather slightly faded in places and a few small creases along the edges of the cushion, it looked well-maintained overall, with no obvious damage or peeling.
He stared at the product page, scrolling down to examine the features of the massage chair—
“Multi-stage simulated massage, deep tissue lumbar support, leg air pressure relaxation, full-body heating function…”
It had all the necessary features! It even boasted being a "premium flagship model," originally priced at NT$ 39,800, and now the second-hand price was…
NT$ 5,888.
“Oh my God, this price… isn’t this a steal?”
His heart raced as his eyes widened slightly; his finger paused on the screen. This price felt like a gift from above—just over five thousand, much lower than he had expected. Just the heating function alone was worth the price! He could almost envision himself ordering it and having the chair brought into his home. After work, he could simply lie back and enjoy total relaxation, bidding farewell to any back pain…
But his rationality wasn’t completely clouded by this price. A moment later, a twinge of caution crept in—
“Wait, this price is too low.”
A high-end massage chair originally priced at nearly forty thousand now going for only NT$ 5,888 was an astonishing drop. Was there something wrong with it…?
He began to scroll down to read the seller's description to see if there were any hidden issues. “Mechanical faults? Leather damage? Malfunctioning features?” But nothing was mentioned in the listing; the seller simply wrote: “Used for two years, in good condition, selling cheap due to moving—price negotiable.”
“Two years? Selling after just two years?”
The man furrowed his brow. Such an item should theoretically last for several years. Could it be… that this chair had some hidden problems? Or was it that the seller’s move was just an excuse because there was something strange about this item that they wanted to get rid of quickly?
His fingertips lightly tapped on his phone screen as he fell into a brief hesitation. “The price is so good, but it raises suspicions—could this be a trap?”
But soon enough, his rationality was defeated by those two words: “cheap.”
**What does it matter? Over five thousand, I might as well buy it and take a look, right?** If there are minor issues, I can always get it repaired. It’s not like I’m really going to buy a **haunted Massage Chair**, right?
The man gritted his teeth and decisively pressed the "Contact Seller" button, preparing to discuss the transaction details.
He stared at his phone screen, pondering for a moment, then quickly typed out a message in a straightforward tone:
**"What is the condition of this Massage Chair? Is the mechanism functioning properly? Are there any broken parts or areas that need repair?"**
After sending the message, he leaned back on the sofa, unconsciously tapping his fingers lightly on the back of his phone, feeling a bit anxious. **It’s so cheap; it just feels suspicious.** Usually, sellers of such low-priced items only say nice things, hiding problems in the details, waiting for buyers to discover the pitfalls once they take it home.
However, to his surprise, not long after he sent the message, he received a reply so quickly that it made him wonder if the seller had been staring at their phone.
**"Hello, this Massage Chair is in great condition; all functions are working properly with no faults. It has been well maintained during use. I’m selling it because I don’t have enough space at home; there are absolutely no issues."**
**This response sounds too perfect.**
The man frowned and coldly chuckled to himself, thinking this was just standard seller talk. Just these few sentences were not enough to put his mind at ease. He leaned back against the sofa, staring at his phone screen, contemplating how to further test the seller's sincerity.
Just as he was about to ask for more details, the seller sent another message—
**"If you’re worried, you can come to my shop to try it out first. Once you confirm there are no issues, you can decide whether to buy it and take it home right away."**
The man paused for a moment, a glimmer of interest flashing in his eyes. This was… somewhat sincere.
**Don’t most sellers just want to get rid of their stock quickly? Who would willingly let someone try it out?** If the seller was willing to let him experience it on-site, that at least indicated that this Massage Chair probably wasn’t completely useless scrap metal; otherwise, wouldn’t letting buyers try it out just invite trouble?
He stroked his chin thoughtfully and considered that this proposal was indeed good. At least he could personally verify the product and wouldn’t be blindly deceived by photos or written descriptions. **Besides, his back still ached faintly; having a chance to try lying down wouldn’t be a loss.**
He quickly replied to the other party:
"Alright, may I ask where the store is? I'll find a time to check it out."
After sending the message, he stared at the screen, waiting for the Seller's address. He thought to himself that this Massage Chair deal might actually work out.
A few days later, at the agreed time, Lin Zhao Cheng started his car and slowly drove towards the location he had arranged with the Seller. With both hands on the steering wheel, he focused intently on the navigation, following its directions. The streets of the city were still familiar, bustling with traffic, and pedestrians hurriedly crossed the road at every traffic light. These sights brought him a sense of reassurance; after all, this was his daily environment—orderly and predictable, with little chance of unexpected events.
However, as he drove further away, the scenery alongside the road began to feel increasingly unfamiliar. Tall buildings gradually gave way to shorter houses, and the bright lights of shops became sparse, replaced by cold-looking residences and small factories. The distance between homes widened, and he occasionally spotted a few Iron Sheds cluttered with unknown items outside. The streetlights became fewer, casting an unusually quiet atmosphere over the entire road.
Lin Zhao Cheng couldn't help but furrow his brow. Although he had known that such prices wouldn't be found in large appliance stores in the city center, he hadn't expected the location to be this remote. He slowed down, scanning the surroundings and noticing that there were hardly any houses left. The buildings along the way appeared old and worn down; some looked like abandoned shops with faded "For Rent" signs hanging on their doors, clearly long out of business.
"How did I end up driving so far...?"
He glanced at the navigation and saw that there were still less than five kilometers to go. Although this place no longer resembled an area where legitimate stores should be located, upon reflection, such prices indeed seemed unlikely to appear in a regular supermarket. It must be some kind of small Second-Hand Electronics Store or a private warehouse-style market that used low prices to attract buyers like him.
"Well... that makes sense," he reassured himself slightly and continued into this quiet suburb. A hint of doubt lingered in his mind, but he didn't truly feel afraid. After all, he was just there to look at a Massage Chair; it shouldn't be anything too serious. Still... why did this place increasingly resemble scenes from movies where strange events occurred?
He shook his head to dismiss these thoughts and focused on the road ahead. In just a few minutes, he would finally see what that "store" looked like.
Comment 0 Comment Count