For preview purposes only; final product may differ
Author: Mo Chen Huan
Translator: Luckykoi
Editor: M. M.
Six months ago, thousands of illusory black behemoth spires appeared above cities across the globe. The scientific and religious communities were abuzz with discussion, but the phenomenon remained inexplicable.
The world eventually grew accustomed to their presence and lost interest. That was, until Tang Mo witnessed an insect collide with a spire instead of flying through its illusory facade.
The next day, a clear, childlike voice announced to all humanity…
“Ding dong! It is the 15th of November, 2017. The Earth is now online.”
– The Dark Spire’s Three Absolute Laws –
1st: The Dark Spire is the final authority.
2nd: Game time is between 6 a.m. and 6 p.m.
3rd: All players must strive to attack the Spire.
When the Suzhou Library opened at nine in the morning, there were already about eight people waiting at the doors, all of them elderly and in the late stages of greying. It was a Monday. Unlike the weekends when parents would bring their children in to read, the library saw mostly ageing retirees come in on the weekdays.
The library was spared from the hustle and bustle of the city, its tranquillity interrupted only by the whispers of pages being flipped.
By ten o’clock, more people started rolling in.
Tang Mo sat before a computer, helping each visitor check out their chosen books. With his left hand, he scanned the barcodes, whilst his right hand clicked to confirm with the mouse. Then he looked up. “You took out the last book almost a month ago. Are you close to finishing it?”
The middle-aged woman before him was plainly dressed. She shook her head with a smile. “Not yet. My son is a slow reader. Why, do I have to return it within a month?”
“Well, the first month is free, but there is a small fee for each day after that.” He paused before adding, “If you lose the book, you’ll have to pay the full cost. That book is 82 yuan.”
“Oh, wow. That’s expensive,” she said, her expression suddenly turning sour. “All right, I’ll get the little brat to finish the book once I get home today.” She hastened off immediately after saying that.
The handsome librarian watched the woman leave with hardly any expression showing on his visage. He took the next person’s library card and scanned the code.
“Slow reader? I bet she lost it,” came his colleague’s crisp voice.
Tang Mo said without looking up at her, “Maybe.”
Zhao Yan continued with an added note of derision, “A library card is 50 yuan. That book is 82. She’s never coming back here again.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Mr Wang, supervising the information desk. He tapped Tang Mo on the shoulder. “Check on what the quack is up to now, will you? I saw him go to a nook in a surveillance blind spot. Hopefully it’s nothing.”
Tang Mo gave a slight nod and headed over.
The library was situated in Suzhou’s city centre. It comprised three floors, and most of the top floor was dedicated to the humanities and social science disciplines. Tang Mo had to walk from the information desk to the southeastern section, past a fair number of bookshelves before he finally located the charlatan.
An early chill had crept into the November air in Suzhou. Biting winds howled outside of the windows, shaking the panes, yet the sunbeams that shone in were warm. The charlatan sat cross-legged on the ground next to the window, a small disorderly stack of books at his side. Despite appearances, the man wasn’t reading but had both hands stuck into his hair, further rumpling his already dishevelled head of hair.
Tang Mo pursed his lips before begrudgingly going to gather the books. “Good morning, Mr Chen. If you want, you could sit and read at a table over there.”
“Read… Read… What do I have to read…”
Tang Mo glanced at the heavy tome he’d just picked from the ground. “The Secret Behind the Lost Mayan Civilisation?”
The charlatan’s head snapped up, his eyes bloodshot and alarmed as he said, “You know the secret behind the lost Mayan civilisation?”
Tang Mo smiled thinly. “I don’t. Do you?”
“I do, of course I do.” The charlatan was instantly invigorated, clambering to his feet. “They offended the manifestation of God. Kukulkan, the ‘god’ they believed in, was a false god; he wasn’t a divine manifestation at all. They offended God, and that’s why they were wiped out. God is the one and only. He is everlasting. All who offend Him must die!”
Tang Mo had heard similar speeches countless times before. They went in through one ear and out the other. The library was open to the public and too many weirdos came through its doors. While the charlatan was plenty weird, the man wasn’t actually insane. He counted as a religious fanatic at most, which wasn’t enough grounds to get him kicked out.
Tang Mo asked cursorily, “Where is the true God, then?”
The look on the charlatan’s face stiffened all of a sudden.
Tang Mo smiled and bracketed the books in his arms.
This wasn’t the first time he put this question to the charlatan. The eccentric fellow started frequenting the library a year ago, and he would even divine which was the most auspicious seat for the day before occupying it. But whenever library staff questioned who God was, he would always clam up and leave the library not long after, as crestfallen as a droopy piece of cabbage.
Just as Tang Mo turned to leave, a low, cryptic voice spoke up from behind. “God is there.”
Tang Mo stopped dead. He turned back to look.
The charlatan was standing by the windows, pointing at a nearby black behemoth Spire levitating above the city. A manic grin spread across his face. “God is coming.”
Speechless, Tang Mo held his tongue.
Whatever helped the man sleep at night.
Tang Mo’s daily commute was a bus ride that passed through the heart of the city. He took a window seat and listened to music through his earphones. As one song ended, he happened to overhear a conversation between two high school girls.
“The Dark Spire! Let me take a picture.”
“Seriously? That’s so lame, gosh. Nobody cares about that anymore.”
“Just a random pic. I can upload it online and caption it ‘A day trip to the Spire’ or something.”
“I don’t think it’ll get any likes. Hey, check out that hottie beside the window. Why not take a picture of him instead? Everyone will be all over it, I’m telling you. It might even go viral. Just caption it… bus guy! Come on, do it.”
The next song started. Tang Mo calmly blocked his face with his right hand and turned to look outside, ignoring the two girls. He lifted his gaze at the Dark Spire above Suzhou.
Set amidst the city skyscrapers was a behemoth Spire reminiscent of the Egyptian pyramids, except black instead of gold. Its square base spanned across the entire city centre, eclipsing Suzhou, yet icy moonlight penetrated its black surface to wash the ground unobstructed.
Six months ago, this Spire had abruptly appeared above the heart of Suzhou. Tang Mo was in such a hurry to get to work that he didn’t check the news before leaving, stepping out to find pandemonium on the streets.
There was not a bus in sight. He couldn’t even hail a cab.
Vehicles were making a mad rush for the city centre. Tang Mo, not quite in possession of his mental faculties yet, was unable to make sense of the situation. Then he looked up and saw the colossal form of the pitch-black Spire.
Within a split second, every lingering trace of drowsiness was swept clean.
Tang Mo was half-convinced that the year was 2012 and the world was ending.
How could anything be that big?!
It wasn’t there when he got off work last night, so how was it suddenly there now?
At first Tang Mo even entertained the possibility that it was some kind of state infrastructure project. After all, back then, there were posts being circulated online boasting about how impressive the domestic construction industry was, that they were able to build an entire flyover in just one night, making the rest of the world go green with envy. He eventually managed to catch a cab to the city centre, and when he stood amidst the crowd, looking up, it hit him there and then. The Spire was entirely suspended in mid-air!
Entirely suspended! At least a hundred metres off the ground!
This simply wasn’t humanly possible!
One of the big LED billboards around the area happened to be playing the news: “At 8:00 a.m. CST, 1021 abnormal dark spires appeared in the airspace above cities and territorial waters nationwide. It is reported that they appeared en-masse globally. Everyone is advised to remain calm. The government has set up official bodies to investigate the spires. We’ve invited Dr Luo, a physics professor from Peking University to explain the phenomenon. We have Dr Luo on the line right now…”
The – end – was – here!
Needless to say, everyone panicked. Tang Mo wasn’t able to go to work for a few days, and people fled to the countryside in droves, the further away from the Spires the better. However, the state had systems in place to maintain social order. Within three days, Tang Mo received notice that he was to return to work; after another week and seeing no activity from them, people began flocking back.
And today, six months later, these Spires were reduced to mere tourist attractions.
People in white lab coats used to lug heavy machinery around beneath them every day, measuring something or other. Nowadays they only came by once every three days or so. Businesses in the vicinity also resumed normal operations.
Tang Mo propped his chin on a hand, gazing quietly at the Dark Spire. The bus made a turn, leaving the Spire in its wake and quickly out of sight.
After a simple dinner, he turned on his computer and logged into the instant messaging app QQ. A chat window popped up.
Victor: Sorry, I’ve been busy. I might not have time to play for a while.
Tang Mo checked the previous message. He was only now receiving a response to a message sent a week ago. It seemed the other man had been busy indeed.
Mo Tang: No worries, we can play again when you’re free.
With that he opened the bridge software, not expecting that Victor was also online nor the quick answer that came.
Victor: How about one round? I have a small pocket of time now.
Mo Tang: OK :)
Tang Mo invited Victor into an online room and the game soon began.
Tang Mo had been playing bridge for five years now. He got pulled into the hobby in his first year of university when one of his roommates was obsessed with bridge, touting it as a sophisticated and intellectually stimulating game. However, while said friend got hooked onto something else less than a month later, Tang Mo quietly kept playing until this day.
Midway through, he discovered an opening to fulfil the contract. His eyes flashed, but before he could play, Victor suddenly threw out a king of clubs. Tang Mo was nonplussed. Victor’s one move effectively trampled out this opening.
Did Victor make a mistake?
Bridge was a 2v2 game. Tang Mo came to know Victor online a year ago. They had good chemistry as bridge partners, and Victor was discernibly the better player. However, it was equally possible that Victor had gotten rusty after being busy for the last six months and having not touched the game at all in the last two.
Tang Mo assessed the tricks on the defending side, and it suddenly dawned on him. “Is he going for a grand slam?”
The corners of his lips ticked up subtly. Tang Mo calmly played a card.
The game ended half an hour later. Tang Mo opened QQ.
Mo Tang: Good game. You’re still in top form.
Victor: Good game.
Mo Tang: :)
There was no response from the other side for a long time. Tang Mo guessed he was busy and didn’t make more conversation, entering another round himself. Afterwards, he returned to find a new message from Victor: I remember you mentioned there’s a Dark Spire next to your workplace?
Mo Tang: Yeah, about two hundred metres away. What’s up?
Victor: Stay away from it in the coming days. There might be some issues.
Reading that reminded Tang Mo of earlier in the afternoon when the charlatan pointed at the Dark Spire with a twitchy look and proclaimed God was coming. And now Victor, too…
Tang Mo cracked up. It took him a while to stifle his laughter and reply: I never pegged you as a Dark Spire alarmist, but I can't not go. I work near there.
Victor didn’t insist on the topic, conversing for a bit before abruptly saying that something came up and he had to go. They closed the chat and went offline.
The charlatan wasn’t around the next day at work. Mr Wang tugged Tang Mo in complete surprise. “That quack didn’t come today? He clocks in more diligently than me. Do you think he’s okay?”
Tang Mo said, “Something could have come up at home.”
Mr Wang waved his hand. “Never mind, forget it. It’s better off this way, or I’d have to get someone to keep an eye on him. By the way, Tang Mo, Lil’ Zhao, please make some extra time to organise shelf G before you leave today.”
Tidying the bookshelves was one of the daily responsibilities of a librarian. The job was not as idle as people would expect. Zhao Yan, who had a blind date to get to that night, looked at Tang Mo pleadingly. Tang Mo said, “Go on ahead, I can handle it myself.”
Zhao Yan said gratefully, “Thanks, Tang Mo, I’ll cover you next time.”
Tang Mo gave her a slight nod without comment.
He did overtime until ten and managed to catch the last bus when he left the library.
Few took the late-night commute; aside from him and the driver, there was only one middle-aged man snoring in his seat. Tang Mo’s phone was out of juice. Bored, he rested his chin on a hand and gazed out of the window.
Most businesses in the city centre were closed at this hour. The nights in November were frigid, and bleak moonlight bathed the sparse pedestrians on the streets. Tang Mo stared at the flashing neon signboards before the bus made a turn, bringing the Dark Spire into view.
After six months, like many others, Tang Mo lost interest in the Spire. His gaze was detached as he regarded it.
All of a sudden he thought he saw an insect, or perhaps a bird, in the distance. Under the moon, the small dark shape flitted through the sky towards the pitch-black, looming architecture. Tang Mo watched on absently as it closed in and dumbly barged headlong into the Spire.
And then, as though having collided, it suddenly tumbled down.
Tang Mo took in all of that. The bus made another turn, and the Dark Spire disappeared behind them.
The name of the next stop rang out through the speakers. Tang Mo was leaning his arm against the window and idly wondering what to have for dinner when his eyes widened. He whipped his head around, trying to take another look, but the bus had long since driven away, leaving the Spire so far behind that it was no longer visible.
Tang Mo’s heart raced like it was about to leap out of his throat. It took him a long while to recover his composure.
“I must have been seeing things, right? The Spire is an optical illusion caused by light pollution, it doesn’t have a physical form,” he mumbled.
That was the prevailing theory at present. Many remained unconvinced, but it was established that the Spires were incorporeal. They could be only perceived by sight, not touch.
Tang Mo shut his eyes, willing himself to forget the scene, yet it kept replaying in his head, plaguing his rest. He tossed and turned into the wee hours before blearily falling asleep.
It was already half past seven when Tang Mo awoke the next day. He hurriedly got out of bed, brushed his teeth, changed, and then picked up his backpack to go. But right as his hand touched the doorknob, a sweet-sounding tune burst forth.
“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…”
Stunned, Tang Mo looked around in vain for the source of the music, but Jingle Bells kept playing. Even without lyrics, the song was universally recognisable.
Tang Mo listened closely but was unable to determine where it came from; the tune seemed to echo all around him.
Tang Mo froze for a beat before dashing to the window at breakneck speed and gazing afar at the black behemoth Spire above Suzhou’s city centre. Its body shimmered iridescently in time with the peaks and dips of the tune, and as the last note dropped, the iridescence disappeared, returning to restful darkness.
A clear, childlike voice pealed in the air, distinctively high-pitched, loud, and resonant.
“Ding dong! It is the 15th of November, 2017. The Earth is now online.”
Around the world, all humanity dropped everything to stare at the Dark Spire nearest to them.
They had never been more conscious of the immense size of the Spire than they were now. Regardless of distance, every last person could see electric blue specks lighting up across the pitch-black surface with crystal clarity. The specks orbited and flickered, rapidly forming long strings of characters resembling a blue screen of death that slid across its bulk, and these eventually converged into a single line of blue text in the middle of the Spire…
“Ding dong! All players must eliminate another player within three days through methods including but not limited to games.”
The clear, childlike voice read aloud in synchrony.
Tang Mo stared unblinkingly at the Dark Spire from the balcony. The chilly autumn wind grazed his cheeks, yet a large bead of sweat slid down his forehead. His gaze was transfixed on the Spire, but it had slipped back into dormancy, both the blue text and the childlike voice vanishing, almost as if nothing had happened.
It took half an hour for Tang Mo to make it to the library doors. Innumerable people were packed like sardines in the vicinity of the Dark Spire, obstructing the road in front of the library.
The clamorous crowd stopped all traffic in the city centre. Tang Mo watched them for a good while before turning into the library.
Ten minutes later, Mr Wang came up to the information desk. “That’s it for today. Go home and await further instruction.”
Zhao Yan leaned in conspiratorially, blurting, “Does this have anything to do with the Dark Spire? It spoke this morning, did you hear? What’s going on? Where did it even come from? The world isn’t actually ending, is it?”
Mr Wang immediately put on a stern manner. “What rubbish are you going on about? Young people these days. Stop watching and spreading all that hogwash.”
Zhao Yan was born in ’96, the youngest among the library staff. The hint of fear in her wide eyes was overshadowed by her delight and curiosity. Once Mr Wang went away, she said, “Tang Mo, you also heard it, right? The Spire spoke. There was all that stuff about going online and eliminations.”
Tang Mo gathered his things. Irritated, he replied curtly, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Do you think it’s the apocalypse? It seems off to me, though. If the world is ending, where are the zombies? By elimination, the Dark Spire wasn’t referring to zombification, was it? Is this some shady government operation… Nah, it can’t be. The internet said the Spires are all over the world, plus they even spoke today. Which country is capable of pulling that? Not even the United States, I bet.”
Tang Mo truly wasn’t in the mood to discuss the matter. For some reason, ever since seeing and hearing the Dark Spire speak, he had started getting heart palpitations.
A typical resting heart rate for an adult was between 60 and 100 beats per minute. Tang Mo kept counting just now while Zhao Yan was chattering.
His current heart rate was 130 beats per minute.
But he wasn’t feeling any discomfort aside from an alarming sense that something somewhere was wrong.
Tang Mo raised his head and checked around him. The information desk was in the centre of the reference area and surrounded by bookshelves. To his left was the anthropology collection and to his right was the history collection. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but wherever his gaze touched, the sun shone in through the windows and tiny motes of dust danced in the air.
“Tang Mo!” A loud voice shook Tang Mo out of the trance. Zhao Yan sounded dissatisfied. “What’s wrong? I had to call you so many times. Penny for your thoughts? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Tang Mo wiped his face. His palms were sweaty. He looked over at his colleague. “It’s nothing.”
His heart was beating even faster now.
Zhao Yan picked up her bag. “I’m going to take a look at the Dark Spire. Wanna come along? I saw many people there when I entered the library. It’s pretty close after all. Shall we?”
Tang Mo swiftly shook his head. “I’m going home.”
Zhao Yan, seemingly still annoyed with him, simply waved a hand and left the library before him.
However, Zhao Yan likely didn’t manage to have the look she wanted. As Tang Mo exited the library, a squad of armed police was dispersing the crowd that had gathered around the Spire. They held white plastic shields, cordoning off the area. A white plastic barricade even extended to the library doors, creating a tight encirclement that prevented anyone from passing through.
There were many people taking photos of the Dark Spire outside of its perimeter.
Tang Mo snapped one as well and then took a cab home.
The incident this morning was already trending online.
Tang Mo lay in bed, swiping through social media. Some of his former university coursemates who were pursuing further studies in Japan and the United States had posted pictures. In those images, the text that formed on the Dark Spire’s surface was not Chinese but rather, Japanese or English.
Tang Mo didn’t have access to the wider internet beyond the Great Firewall, but a few of those abroad left replies to the comments on their posts.
—Yeah, it wasn’t in Chinese but in English. It scared me witless. Classes have been cancelled. People are storming the streets to demand an official statement from the White House.
—It’s so hard to purchase flight tickets now, all the tickets back to China are sold out. My roomie’s rich though, he’s returning to the country in the afternoon.
—It was evening over here when it spoke. It also played a children’s song. Let me upload the video my friend took.
Tang Mo clicked on the recently shared video. A familiar Dark Spire was floating near the Lincoln Memorial, shimmering with an iridescence that was especially striking in the enveloping darkness. The song wasn’t Jingle Bells but obviously still a nursery rhyme. Then the same clear and high-pitched childlike voice spoke in English.
“Ding dong! It is the 15th of November, 2017. The Earth is now online.”
What was all this about? Tang Mo anxiously dropped his phone onto the bed.
The government had not released any official information about the Spires, yet their sheer number made them impossible to cover up. Someone posted the statistics online months ago. There was one Spire for every ten thousand kilometres of land.
There were also untold numbers above the oceans.
Tang Mo got up and restlessly paced around the room. He couldn’t calm himself down; his heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest. After completing his umpteenth lap around the room, Tang Mo came to an abrupt stop.
…This was completely unlike him!
Since when was he so irritable and restless?
Tang Mo walked to the bathroom and stuck his head under the tap, unconcerned about catching a cold. The cold water that flushed over his head brought him some measure of relief. He then poured a glass of cold water and returned to his room. Switching on his computer, he opened the bridge software.
He had to calm down.
The sudden onset of agitation was completely beyond his control.
Was his elevated heart rate impairing his judgement? It should be above 150 beats per minute by now.
Tang Mo’s gaze was aloof as he stared at his screen. It took him ten full minutes to match with players and enter a room to start a game. Presumably, few people had the appetite to play after the major incident that transpired. As the game progressed, his thoughts fired off quickly, and Tang Mo sensed his mood and heart rate, while still high, gradually settling.
He played from day till night. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him and he knocked off as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The persistent agitation resurfaced the next day. Tang Mo opened the bridge software again and threw himself back into the game. Hours went by, and his complexion deteriorated. By the end of the day, his eyes were bloodshot and his brain was so fatigued that he could fall asleep the instant he closed his eyes.
His computer pinged with a new message notification.
Victor: You played the whole day?
Tang Mo rubbed his dry eyes.
Mo Tang: Yeah, I don’t feel so good.
Victor: That’s not surprising given how long you’ve been online. Go to bed soon.
Mo Tang: Mm-kay.
Victor: Avoid the Dark Spire.
But Tang Mo was already sprawled on his computer table, asleep.
It was a new morning by the time he read and hurriedly replied to Victor’s latest message, but the other was already offline. Tang Mo stretched, suddenly feeling in much better spirits. While his heart was still beating rapidly, that inexplicable anxiety had vanished without a trace.
The internet was still abuzz with discussion about the Spires.
Despite not providing any concrete explanation, the government responded with a heavy-handed social media crackdown. Information concerning the Spires could only be shared in private chats, and even then it was mostly trivial matters; they couldn’t send out messages with censored words at all.
Tang Mo read a few forum threads that speculated the truth behind these mysterious structures. Most believed they were the product of some groundbreaking research project. There was also a small minority that suggested it was the apocalypse. Surprisingly, these posts were not deleted, maybe because their tones were purely in jest, and as such these people were allowed to engage in nonsensical chatter within the threads.
That afternoon, Mr Wang made an announcement in the librarian group chat.
Mr Wang: Emergency notice! The library will be requisitioned as a temporary research centre with effect from the following day. Please take away any personal belongings by tomorrow. I repeat, the library will be requisitioned as a temporary research centre…
The group chat exploded.
Several senior staff members inquired about their future work arrangements if the library was being requisitioned. Meanwhile, some younger staff members joked: It’s already Armageddon, and you’re still worrying about work?
Tang Mo raised his head and looked at the Dark Spire in the distance. He carried his bag and got on the bus to the library.
It was undeniable that China had a knack for maintaining social order. Leaving aside people like them who were put on gardening leave as a result of the close proximity of their workplaces to the Spires, other public facilities were still up and running.
Nevertheless, as Tang Mo tapped his transport pass, he caught sight of an ashtray filled with cigarette ash positioned in front of the bus driver, a cigarette dangling between his lips to boot.
A middle-aged woman complained, “Mister, how can you smoke while driving? Isn’t that not allowed?”
“Bloody hell, I can’t do without a smoke right now. Why don’t you take the wheel, huh?”
“What’s with your attitude? No smoking is your company policy. You’re in the wrong for smoking, so why are you biting my head off for saying something about it?”
The driver and the woman began quarrelling. Two university students who were seated next to Tang Mo stepped in and eventually managed to defuse the situation. After returning to their seats, one of the students said, “Hey, isn’t it the third day today?”
“Oh. You’re talking about that. I didn’t even realise it till now.”
The student wondered while playing with her phone, “What’s all that stuff about eliminating players? And that thing about it not being limited to games? It’s been three days and nothing has happened. What even counts as a game? Does rock-paper-scissors?”
“Hehe, shall we give it a try?”
“Rock, paper, scissors!”
“Oops, I lost. Does that mean you’ve eliminated me?”
The two university students made eye contact and then burst into giggles.
For the most part, people who took the public commute and went about their daily lives seemed unconcerned about the Dark Spire acting up. On the other hand, as Tang Mo arrived at the library, he saw thousands of people holding placards in a confrontation with the armed police. These were the factions who were particularly concerned about the incident and genuinely believed that the Dark Spire would usher in the apocalypse.
Tang Mo went around the library to enter through the back. He appeared to be the only one who had rushed over to collect his belongings, and the wide space was devoid of other people. Slogans were being shouted from the marching crowd outside, reverberating through the empty library. Tang Mo found his locker and cleared out the few books inside.
Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly heard a muffled sound from the southeastern section.
His steps faltered. He looked over. After a brief moment, he retrieved a black baton from the security guard’s locker, approaching the nook gingerly.
“Who’s there?”
There was no response.
He could still faintly hear someone picking up a book over there. The other stuffed the book back into the shelf, accidentally knocking down another book in the process.
Tang Mo walked up to the bookshelf and turned in, shouting, “Who’s there!”
A dishevelled, ordinary-looking middle-aged man stared at Tang Mo in a fluster, a book still in his hand.
Tang Mo’s grip around the baton slackened. He uttered in surprise, “Mr Qua – Chen. Mr Chen? What are you doing here?”
The charlatan gave Tang Mo a stiff glance and a hollow laugh before returning the fallen book to the shelf.
Tang Mo knit his brow. “How did you come in?”
“There’s a window that wasn’t shut on the east side, I mean, I just came in to look… look at…”
Tang Mo recalled there was indeed a window on the east side of the library, but it was a ventilation window that was fixed to the ground and connected to the basement. How in the world had the charlatan gotten in? Could he have actually climbed in through the window?
Tang Mo said, “Mr Chen, you’re putting us in a difficult position. This is considered burglary.”
“I didn’t steal anything!” said the charlatan, flurried.
Tang Mo scrutinised the charlatan. Clutching the baton tightly, he approached the shelf where the charlatan was and checked it carefully.
There were no missing books. It was exactly the same as when he had left the library three days ago.
“Then why did you come in—”
“Ding dong! Confrontation game ‘Who Stole My Book’ triggered. Players Tang Mo and Chen Fangzhi have safely entered the game sandbox on the 17th of November, 2017 at 5:52 p.m.”
“Game stage generated… Data loaded…”
In an instant, the din outside the library quieted down.
The clear voice of a child echoed eerily through the empty library, singing a nursery rhyme no one had ever heard before.
“La la la, la la la.
One baton goes tappity tap,
Two players in a game of house,
Three days and nights pass in silence.
The Angel and the Demon both want it.
Hush… Now tell me, who stole my book?”