Chapter Three: The Diary-Codename: Mist 2.4(Qin Sa never drinks gin.)

Staring into Lily’s resolute eyes before him, Hugh felt a strange familiarity, as if he had seen those eyes somewhere before. Suddenly, a memory surfaced—when he and Lily were both seven. At the orphanage, there was a boy older than them, who, perhaps emboldened by Hugh’s looks, once tried to assault him. The boy used coaxing words to lure Hugh away; Hugh, innocent and oblivious, thought the boy was kind. But Lily stepped between them, blocking the way no matter how sweetly or harshly the boy pleaded.

In the end, the furious boy slapped Lily with such force she was sent tumbling across the room. Yet Lily quickly scrambled up, shouting that he’d hit her, and once again stood between Hugh and the boy, staring him down without fear.

Lily’s gaze that day was exactly the same as it was now.

With a sigh, Hugh bent down to search for anything useful, asking, “Has the team been decided?”

“It has. Stephenson, Dunn, Sandro, Camille, Aiden—the children, I’ve explained the risks to them all, and none chose to withdraw,” Lily replied, her voice tinged with complexity.

After a brief pause, she continued, “Honestly, I don’t have a choice, do I? We’ve analyzed it—clearly, John was passively ‘erased’ too, and he couldn’t even tell us a single word.”

“So if our guess is right, and every child who turns fifteen will be ‘erased’ once, then I can’t run even if I tried.

“And, looking on the bright side, if I gain the abilities and strength John did, it’ll help us search for him.”

“We… can’t… stop… Lily,” Aiden said calmly, pronouncing Hugh’s silent verdict.

Annoyed, Hugh raked a hand through his reddish-brown hair, saying nothing more, and quietly left the basement alone.

“Hugh… worries… about… you,” Aiden said in the same flat tone.

“I know… But we don’t have a choice anymore. I’m going to check John’s room in a moment, maybe he left something behind.”

“Alright.” Aiden raised an old-fashioned lamp, examined it, shook his head, and turned away, leaving Lily only his back.

After glancing at the “trash” in the room, Lily took the elevator in the orphanage’s first-floor hall to the attic, then descended the spiral staircase to the fourth floor, arriving at the third room along the west corridor. She lifted her hand to knock, then laughed at herself and pushed the door open—after all, the room’s owner had vanished…

Inside, a desk stood at the far end and a two-tiered single bed beside it, unchanged since Lily’s last visit. The only difference was that the first time she’d come to John’s room, it had been decorated with childish flair.

Building blocks, toy posters, and even a tiny rocking horse he’d somehow found were scattered about.

Now, John had packed away all those playful things, perhaps because Lily’s laughter then had wounded his pride?

Taking a deep breath and murmuring an apology, Lily approached the desk and began searching for any notes or clues John might have left.

The desk was messy, drawers cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends, making Lily’s head spin. In the end, her gaze settled on a thick notebook adorned with a teacup illustration.

Picking it up, she found a brown string marking a page in the middle. Clearly, John had bookmarked it for a reason, but she’d have to look to know why.

Pulling over John’s chair, she switched on the desk lamp and opened to the marked page:

August 17th, fog.

Every day is foggy, only occasionally does it rain. This damned mist…

If not for that strange experience, I’d never bother writing a diary—it’s torture for both body and mind.

Since I went to “that world,” everything has changed.

My body’s become stronger, my running faster—Aiden will never beat me again.

I can see golden, block-like letters rising from the floor and vanishing at the ceiling. I’ve checked the basement and attic; these golden letters pass through all obstacles until they disappear at the highest point I can see.

Those blocky letters seem to be from Xia—only their writing is so square, with a unique beauty.

I need only sleep two or three hours a night to feel refreshed, but my memory’s gotten worse… That’s why I need to keep a diary. Yes, this damned diary.

I feel I’ve changed in other ways too, but I can’t figure out what. It’s like… knowing you want something, but not knowing what you want—enough to drive you mad.

Next “screening patrol,” I’ll try going farther—maybe across the Thames, to the Grand Theater or Dunlon Station. I can’t wait.

I must keep it secret from Lily, Aiden, and Hugh—or they’ll surely stop me and laugh at me.

When I drag back a piece of iron signage from Dunlon Station, I’ll shock them all!

Reading this, Lily frowned. August 17th—that was the third day after John’s ordeal, over a month ago. So, from then on, John had been sneaking across the Thames into Dunlon City?

What were those golden letters he saw? Xia’s script? And what did he mean by “that world”?

With these questions swirling, Lily turned the page to see what else John had written:

August 24th, fog, fog, fog.

Heavens, Lily and Aiden would never believe what I’ve found!

The diary ended abruptly there—just that single line. Lily slapped the notebook in frustration. What on earth was John playing at? Did he know she’d come read this? Was he deliberately teasing?

She tried to recall John’s behavior the morning after his August 25th “patrol.”

Completely normal—nothing stood out.

Was John hiding something? Or, as he claimed, had he forgotten? But with so many in his group, surely not all could have forgotten?

And was John taking the diary with him on patrol?

For the first time, Lily loathed people who spoke in half-measures.

Dong…

The mellow chimes from the orphanage’s massive, antique clock tower echoed throughout the building.

Six o’clock.