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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 064: The Truth of Death
No one would believe me, except for myself, that I received a call from Unknown Space.
Really, the caller ID showed no number, just the four words “Unknown Space.” It was eerie! Moreover, when the call came in, both Fatty and the nurse were aware of it. In the call, Lao Luo urged us to escape and mentioned someone named Qin Ye.
I had no reason to fabricate a lie to scare anyone. Therefore, I refused to believe that Lao Luo was dead; he must be hiding somewhere inconvenient and had given me this call as a warning.
Lost in thought, Fatty leaned closer and whispered, “Did you just call out for Lao Luo? Did he say anything to you?”
“Yeah.”
The nurse seemed not to hear and continued walking ahead. I noticed that the place she was leading us to was becoming increasingly dark. Earlier, I thought perhaps Lao Luo had left something behind that he wanted us to retrieve. Now it seemed I had misjudged.
“Hey, beautiful sister, where are you taking us? What happened to Lao Luo?”
The nurse ignored my questions and kept moving with a light step in her white shoes, making no sound at all. She turned a corner and stopped in front of a door marked Storage Room. She reached out to push the door open. A faint cold breeze slipped through the crack of the door and hit me; I shivered involuntarily. The chilling air from inside felt familiar, carrying an underlying malevolence. At that moment, I imagined seeing a thin figure lurking in the dark space, with sunken eyes glaring at me.
I took a step back, then another large step back, instinctively grabbing onto Fatty. He was confused, and I had no words to explain. I turned slightly and ran—
The hospital had many identical wards and corridors. In my panic, I didn’t know if I had shaken off the nurse who led us here. After running for a while, we finally found ourselves standing in front of the Nurse Station Counter.
Fatty had been holding back a question for a long time. Upon seeing a wave of nurses bustling behind the Counter, each one more beautiful than the last, his eyes widened. The thoughts in his mind turned into drool as he swallowed hard repeatedly.
I approached the least busy nurse and asked, “Excuse me, beautiful sister, can I ask you something?”
Not all nurses were stunning; the one I approached was rather plain-looking—just slightly taller than the others—with a few purple scars on her face that seemed to be remnants of acne.
With a professional smile on her face, the nurse replied, “What can I help you with?”
“Is Luo Deming in Room 01? Why isn’t he here?”
“Room 01 Luo Deming?” The nurse repeated my question for confirmation.
I nodded firmly. “Yes.”
"Yan, can you check on the patient Luo Deming's condition?"
The nurse named Yan responded and moved the mouse to pull up the patient's hospitalization information. She then turned to the tall nurse sister, "Luo Deming passed away last night despite resuscitation efforts. The body is in the Morgue."
Dead!
Both Fatty and I froze for a moment, then incredulously exclaimed, "Can you check again? There must be a mistake. It's impossible! He was in the ward at seven o'clock last night, and he appeared at the Cemetery at eleven. He even helped..." My voice grew louder as I felt an overwhelming urge to deny this reality.
But the sharp-eared nurse sister still heard me.
She frowned, looking at us as if we were crazy, and said, "Luo Deming died in the emergency room. Cause of death: heart failure. Time of death: seven forty."
No, I remembered a doctor telling me that Luo Deming was not ill; he had requested hospitalization himself. At that time, I wondered what Lao Luo was hiding from. Now, hearing the nurse's words, I decided to find a doctor and ask.
I turned around and walked away. "Brother Qi, where are you going?" Fatty followed me and asked.
"To find a doctor."
"Oh." Fatty walked a few steps and reminded me, "Brother Qi, you need to help Yin Yin withdraw from Yin Marriage."
"Don't rush me; one thing at a time." I reached the third-floor doctor's office. The door was half-open, revealing a large table surrounded by several doctors—both men and women—all in white coats, seemingly discussing something. It was just a coincidence that someone had come in and left without closing the door.
I stood at the entrance, carefully observing the doctors inside the office. Someone stood up and walked towards the door, focusing intently on us as they asked, "What can I do for you?"
I pointed to the doctor sitting at the far end. "I would like to consult about something. Is that doctor available?"
Hearing this, he turned back to look at the people inside and called out to the doctor at the far end, "Dr. Mao, someone is looking for you."
Dr. Mao was relatively young, with neatly shaved cheeks.
"Dr. Mao, I've been here before; do you remember me?"
Dr. Mao glanced at me and then at Fatty with an apologetic tone. "We see hundreds of patients and their families every day, so I'm afraid I don't remember who you are. What do you need?"
The doctor's words made sense.
I understood, and then last night at seven o'clock I went to see Lao Luo, who spoke to me.
Dr. Mao thought for a moment and shook his head in denial, saying, "I don't remember giving anyone those words. You must be mistaken. Patient Luo Deming had congenital heart defect and died from heart failure after unsuccessful resuscitation."
Lao Luo was really dead!
I lowered my head to look at my phone; he was gone, and his call had been a warning for me to escape, with Qin Ye's words still echoing in my ears.
I couldn't believe that Lao Luo was dead, and neither could Fatty.
However, there was one thing I had to admit: on the way back from the cemetery, Fatty's words were still fresh in my memory. He said that Lao Luo walked on tiptoes, and thinking back on it now, it was truly chilling.
What I knew was that Lao Luo was unmarried and had no relatives. At the station, he was just a low-paid nobody without a title or nameplate, an outsider who specialized in explaining bizarre events that were beyond reality and science.
He was dead, and it wasn't appropriate for the station to handle it publicly; they could only leave him in the morgue. After leaving the doctor's office, I took a few steps and suddenly felt the urge to see his body.
"Brother Qi, what are you planning to do now?"
"We're going to the morgue to take a look."
Fatty widened his eyes and shook his head in refusal. "No way."
I knew he was scared, but there was nothing we could do. Whether alive or dead, Lao Luo was important to us.
Dr. Mao had already returned to his office. As someone insignificant who wasn't closely related to the patient—at least not by blood—there was no way we could demand anything from the doctor.
The only option left was to find a breakthrough through one of the nurses.
I was confident that I could charm one of the nurses into helping us.
Fatty followed me closely behind, initially disapproving of going to the morgue, but now seeing me head straight for the Nurse Station, he fell silent and quietly trailed along.
"Beautiful sister, Dr. Mao is in a meeting. If there's anything, he will find you." The nurse seemed a bit skeptical upon hearing this and reached for the phone to inquire. I hurriedly said, "He's in a meeting."
"Oh," the nurse replied, putting down the receiver. She casually asked, "Who are you to the patient? Do you have any proof?"
"I came in a hurry and didn't bring any proof, but I can clearly tell you that he is my uncle, and I am his nephew." I pointed at Fatty. "He can vouch for me." Fatty nodded in agreement from the side. The nurse appeared to be focused on organizing her files but was sneaking glances at me. After a moment, she spoke in a tone that was neither warm nor cold, "What kind of relatives are you? When the patient needs care, you don't show up, and now you're here pretending to care after he's passed away."
"Yes, yes, it's our fault." I wore a genuinely sorrowful expression; no one would doubt my words. But I dared to assert that all my emotions were real. I had true feelings for Lao Luo—his teachings, his help at the Cemetery, and his heartfelt words during our conversations were all etched in my memory.
Just a few minutes ago, I received a call from him; his voice was exactly like it had been that night on the way home when he had advised me. I truly couldn't believe he was dead, which was why I wanted to check all the information regarding his death.
In the end, this nurse could not withstand my persistent pleas. She winked at me and then left the Nurse Station, prompting Fatty and me to quickly follow her.
Before long, Fatty and I found ourselves at the entrance of the Ultrasound Room.
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