Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 5 Anchor Point
"Om-"

The camera emitted a low, overload-like buzzing sound, becoming frighteningly hot, with wisps of very faint blue smoke rising from its body, carrying a strange smell of burnt circuit boards and rotting old paper.

It spat out three pieces of photographic paper stuck together. When the photographic paper fell into the palm of the hand, it was still trembling slightly, as if the sealed Shadowbound Ghost was still struggling.

Silence descended.

The ever-burning light returned to normal. The stench gradually dissipated.

On the ground, the burly man who had survived the ordeal lay sprawled, beneath him his shadow, which was gradually returning to normal color but still somewhat unsteady. His eyes rolled back, his crotch was soaked, and he had fainted from fright.

Another burly man and the landlord collapsed to the ground, trembling like fallen leaves in the autumn wind. Their eyes, as they looked at Xu Yan and Chen Zhiwei, were filled with the most primal fear, as if they were looking at gods... or demons.

Xu Yan gasped for breath, leaning against the counter, his fingers trembling violently from exertion.

He subconsciously looked at the photos in his hand. The three photos overlapped, forming a dark, distorted human figure frozen in a moment of painful struggle.

He was about to tell Chen Zhiwei, "The frequency calibration is perfect," when he opened his mouth but suddenly froze on the spot.

A violent wave of dizziness struck, accompanied by a sharp ringing in his ears, as if someone were stabbing his temples with an ice pick and stirring them violently.

In my mind, the words I wanted to say, even the name I wanted to call out, vanished like the receding tide, leaving only a cold, bone-chilling void and emptiness.

Just moments before the flash went out, he felt a chill that went deep into his bones.

It's not just about losing a specific memory, but about something deeper being uprooted.

He tried to recall his mother's smiling face, but found that the once-familiar warm outline had become blurred, as if seen through a foggy pane of glass.

An instinctive sense stemming from kinship is quietly slipping away from him.

Xu Yan sat on the wooden chair, staring at the photos on the wall.

A blank space.

He found his "mother's" name, but a sudden chill ran through him.

Her name is there, her photo is there, but... her image is starting to blur.

Impossible... How could you forget even this?

Chen Zhiwei looked at Xu Yan's face, her expression incredibly complex as she watched the momentary blankness and the gradually emerging fear.

“Shadow locks the soul… The stronger the object of the seal, the closer the forgotten content is to the ‘self’.” She said softly, stepped forward, and carefully used tweezers to pick up the three stuck photographs and put them into a specific slot in the metal box for safekeeping.

After doing all this, she finally turned around, her icy gaze landing squarely on the landlord who was slumped on the ground.

The landlord was so frightened that he almost kowtowed.

Chen Zhiwei's voice was icy cold, each word striking the deathly silence: "Now, do you understand why the 'rules' cannot be broken?"

"Get out. Next time you come in, be sure to follow the rules."

The landlord and the still-conscious burly man were overjoyed, and they scrambled to their feet, dragging their unconscious companion away from the photo studio in a panic, not daring to look back.

Looking at their disheveled figures, Chen Zhiwei showed no relief whatsoever.

She turned to look at Xu Yan, her brows furrowed.

"It's already documented in the file and shouldn't be attracted by external stimuli, unless..."

Her gaze shifted to Xu Yan, landing on his still slightly trembling fingers, before slowly moving to the right pocket of his coat. There, the outline of a rectangular, hard object was faintly visible.

Her voice was soft, yet it was like a needle piercing the deathly silence:
"Senior brother, when you came from that old man's house...did you not put all his belongings in your suitcase?"

In that instant, the camera on the counter suddenly vibrated slightly with a "buzz," and the lens silently rotated, pointing at Xu Yan's pocket.

Chen Zhiwei's pupils suddenly contracted.

—The anchor point has been found.

The air was dead.

The camera lens on the counter, like a cold, one-eyed stare, was fixed on the right pocket of Xu Yan's coat.

The faint "humming" sound seemed to still echo in the air, pounding on the two people's tense nerves.

Xu Yan instinctively covered his pocket, his fingertips touching the rectangular, cold metal block.

USB flash drive.

It was brought out from that room filled with the aura of death and the obsession of the lonely ghost.

Chen Zhiwei's eyes became extremely sharp, and her previous fatigue and complicated emotions were completely replaced by vigilance.

She approached step by step, her voice very low, as if afraid of disturbing something:
"Senior brother, what's in your pocket? Did you bring it from the 'Relic Shop'?"

Xu Yan's Adam's apple bobbed.

The throbbing pain and emptiness deep in my brain from continuous camera use are still spreading. Memories from yesterday and even earlier are like grains of sand blown away by the wind, hard to grasp.

But he still remembered the USB drive, the unusual coldness when he picked it up, and the faint, perhaps vague, thought in his mind that it might be useful or that it shouldn't be left here.

“A USB drive.” His voice was a little hoarse. “I found it in the old man’s bedside table. I think it’s a bit… special.”

"Special?" Chen Zhiwei's voice was almost breathy, a reaction born of extreme tension. "Senior brother! Have you forgotten the most basic rules? Everything in the 'Relics Shop,' especially 'anchor' items imbued with strong obsessions, must be sealed in the suitcase! Everything in that room belongs to that 'Lonely Building Ghost,' it's part of what constitutes and binds it! Taking it away from its original location is equivalent to bringing that ghost's obsession back to the photo studio!"

Her gaze swept quickly over the old filing cabinet, which had temporarily fallen silent but still exuded an ominous aura.

"No wonder... why was the 'Shadowbound Ghost' attracted or even enraged? The intrusion of external obsessions, especially something so closely related to 'death' and 'memory,' is like cold water being poured into boiling oil! Could it have disrupted the already fragile balance within the archives?"

Her tone was filled with lingering fear and reproach, "We almost all died here just now!"

Xu Yan pursed her lips.

He knew Chen Zhiwei was right.

The master repeatedly instructed that the handling of the "belongings" must be done with utmost care, and that they should never be touched unless absolutely necessary, and were strictly forbidden from being taken away.

But at that time... he seemed to have been influenced by some emotion in his judgment?

Or perhaps the loss of memory has weakened some of his instincts and vigilance?
"I..." He wanted to explain, but found himself unable to do so.

Chen Zhiwei took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down: "Take it out. Be careful."

P.S.: I'm a bit timid and don't dare to write at night, so the update speed is a bit slow. The second update today will be around 6 PM.

(End of this chapter)