Observation Chapter 9
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Observation Chapter 9: Lin Qian~
‘Click!’
Without hesitation, Lin Qian clicked the top right corner of the window, closing the document.
‘That’s your opinion, not mine!’
‘The ideas it’s giving me are all dumb and useless…’
‘Does it want me to throw my life away for nothing?’
‘I can deal with you being sentient1, but trying to trick me into jumping into a fire pit is another matter entirely!’
With the spring bar in his hand once more, Lin Qian felt his way towards the door.
This was the third time he moved his head towards the peephole…
“…”
‘Click~’
The door opened.
Its movements were not the work of an intruder; Rather, they were done by someone inside the apartment — Lin Qian himself.
That was because when he looked through the peephole, he saw no one — a stark contrast from last time.
With curiosity and adrenaline surging through him, he decided to open the door and go out in a blaze of glory—
—Or not. He decided to investigate the situation first.
A deathly silence pervaded the empty corridor, as the extremely pale lights faded in and out of darkness.
Lin Qian hesitated for a short moment. He went into his apartment, grabbed his keys, and went outside.
“Let’s start with the assumption that Lin Yin is human. Her behavior and actions must align with that premise.”
His literary creations spanned far and wide, featuring characters that went beyond the confines of ‘humanity’.
‘What on earth happened outside the door…’
‘If this was my story… what sort of situation would unfold?’
Lin Qian intently stared at the ground, his eyes gradually regaining their composure. Even the shock on his face had vanished without a trace.
Perhaps it was due to the overly surreal atmosphere, but he had inadvertently found himself slipping halfway into a writer’s trance.
In this state, his thinking and logical reasoning would become exceptionally clear and organized, vastly outperforming both his normal capabilities and the average person’s.
After all, the concepts inside [In The Library], which defied everyday logic, had been conceived by Lin Qian under these conditions. It was impossible to create such a literary piece of work unless one possessed an exceptional mind.
However, this talent required a massive expenditure of resources, requiring Lin Qian to allocate nearly all of his literary income on food.
“This building is home to many people. Since I live in 404, it means that everyone living on this floor is technically my neighbor…”
“The storm started after I ordered takeout – around 1:18 am, I believe…”
“Judging by the wet marks on the bag, the delivery man must have braved the storm to deliver it here. It seems that the rain had begun before they could make their way into this building…”
“There should be signs of water residues or footprints on the ground. There’s no way they would dry up so quickly.”
“So…”
Every author was a master of imagination and Lin Qian was naturally no exception. In no time, a 3D animation played out in his mind.
With the dim light of the voice-activated lamp acting as a guide, Lin Qian spotted a series of faint water residues extending from the stairway.
Those trails came to a stop at the doorstep of apartment 403.
‘403, huh?’
Lin Qian turned his body sideways, taking a few steps forward, and arrived at the door of 403. He then raised his hand.
An indescribable sense of impulse urged him to knock on the door until someone opened it.
“…”
“No, that’s a bad idea. It will be problematic if I knock on the wrong door.”
“Even if it’s the right apartment, there’s no way it can end well. Only a creep would knock on a young girl’s door in the dead of the night.”
Lin Qian pondered for a moment before dismissing the idea of knocking on the door.
Truth be told, he felt somewhat embarrassed by his actions.
His actions were reminiscent of those unsettling male characters in novels.
As a writer of dark fiction, his profession did not give him a license to cloud his judgment of people and label them as psychopaths.
If he went around labeling everyone he met as those, not only would he struggle to function in society, it might even push him down into a downward spiral and turn him into the very thing he condemned.
Even though his novels frequently ventured into darkness, they were not a reflection of his mind.
Other than his slightly-vibrant imagination and occasional descent into madness while writing, Lin Qian was, at heart, a regular person like anyone else. He was just another individual supporting himself, modestly making ends meet with the earnings of his work.
“I guess I should head back and call it a night.”
Lin Qian shook his head, choosing not to linger on the subject any longer.
Why fret about those things when his stomach was empty? They were nothing more than unfounded fears.
But all of a sudden, Lin Qian’s body froze.
His head, partially turned to the side, creaked back around like an automaton, as his gaze intently locked onto the peephole of Apartment 403.
“…”
‘This feeling…’
‘Could someone be looking at me from inside?!’
“Thud…”
“!!!”
A deep chill shot out from the soles of Lin Qian’s feet, coursing through his blood to his brain.
The door to Apartment 403 was about to open!
As a man, he was prepared to confront her directly and show her what he was made of. He was eager to determine who would prove superior in their clash between the genders.
Lin Qian’s gaze narrowed slightly, a fierce glint radiating out from within. The aura of a male protagonist suddenly surged within him!
Emulating a pose straight out of the Matrix, he settled into a half-crouch, his left palm extended forward and his right hand placed quietly on his thigh.
Then, using the same hand on his thigh, he dug into his pocket for the key.
With the swiftness and abruptness of lightning flashing across the skies, he unlocked the door to his apartment, number 404, and rushed inside.
‘Thud!’
He made sure to engage the chain lock as well.
With ease and fluidity as though he had rehearsed this countless times, those actions were completed by him in under three seconds.
In an instant, the corridor was quiet again. All signs of abnormality had vanished, as if nothing unusual had ever occurred.
“Hehe~”
“Lin Qian~?”
An ethereal voice echoed through the corridor. Sounding both far away and close at hand, it slowly faded away into silence.
……..
Once back in his apartment, Lin Qian sat on his bed, panting heavily.
“Mhm…”
When he thought about his pitiful display earlier, his brows knitted together.
In the end, he was nothing more than a keyboard warrior. His frailty became unmistakably apparent once he was bereft of his tool.
“So, should I dig into this spicy hotpot or not…”
“Rumble~!”
Before Lin Qian’s brain could even weigh in on the matter, his stomach had already provided him with an answer.
‘I’m eating!’
‘As humans, we should have the resolve not be overly constrained by common sense. Even if the moon turns red and I meet a beautiful girl in the middle of the night, so what?’
‘I’ve still got to eat.’
Assuming he had ended up in Gotham City as seen in the movies, or Sin City from the novels— Would that change anything?
Perhaps the red moon had always been a natural phenomenon, and the neighbor who had passed his food to him could have simply done it out of goodwill, having coincidentally met the delivery person on her way out.
“Maybe I’m still dreaming. A meal and some sleep should help clear everything up.”
Unsure if it was the effect of his meal or something else entirely, Lin Qian found himself fast asleep on his bed within five minutes of finishing his food.
2 am.
‘Click… Click…’
The handle of the iron door started to wobble slightly once more.
Even the keyhole facing into the room had started to rotate as well.
The previously dark computer screen suddenly sprang to life.
‘Clatter…’
The sound of his keyboard switches filled the air once again.
The document titled [The Observation Diary of The Abnormal Girls] had opened on its own.
[I…]
[‘…am so tired, I fell asleep…’]
“…”
‘Clatter~’
As soon as the words were typed, they were deleted.
It was almost as if… the document was deliberating on its choice of words.
[Lin Qian…]
[I…]
[…]
The words seemed to falter, as if caught in a dilemma.
How should the story be told, from a first or third person perspective?
[I’m Lin Qian! And Lin Qian is me!]
The forceful clacking of his keyboard echoed throughout the room.
The typing sound returned to normal, after the sentence had been cast in a fit of anger.
[A strange sound was coming from outside the door…]
[I was certain that…]
[…someone was fiddling with the lock… They must be really determined to enter my room…]
[But… I was asleep…]
[This time… I intended to find out who the person outside truly was.]
[I left my bed and approached the peephole…]
[Tonight, this was already my third…]
[…no, fourth time checking out that peephole…]
[It looked like the door could not hold up any longer… Yet…]
[…It appeared that some unseen object was obstructing the outsider from opening the door…]
“…”
Lying in his bed, Lin Qian continued to loudly snore away in deep sleep.
As soon as these words appeared, the clicking sound of a lock being pried with by a metal strip abruptly ended.
What took its place was the delicate voice of a girl.
“Lin Qian~”
“Oh dear, just as I thought, I can’t get inside…”
Following a brief pout, the unusual activity at the door ceased entirely.
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- In the original text, the author references a common online joke about censorship of supernatural and fantasy elements. It stems from a (fictional) directive from China’s Radio and Television Administration that stated: “objects are not allowed to gain sentience.” The main character is implying that, while they can adjust to this unexpected sentience, there are limits to what they’ll tolerate from the newly-aware object.