Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 59 Possession
The rain gradually intensified. Xu Yan took one last look at the small tombstone, turned around, and strode away from the cemetery.

His steps were firm, with an almost cruel determination, as if he wanted to crush all the weak mourning and confusion into the mud.

Instead of returning to the photo studio, he drove directly to the city's emergency response center building.

In the shadows of the street corner, the windshield wipers moved rhythmically, like a monotonous beat for an upcoming drama.

Xu Yan had no intention of breaking in; that would be too foolish.

He was simply here, trying to sense the aura of the steel behemoth that had devoured his father, searching for a breakthrough that might not even exist.

Just then, the door to the employee entrance on the side of the center opened.

Zhou Wenbin?
He was wearing that dark jacket, without an umbrella, just with the collar pulled up to protect himself from the wind and rain.

His expression was a complex mixture: a hint of weariness, a thoughtful seriousness, and his usual, slick, worldly mask.

He walked down the steps, his eyes habitually and quickly scanning the surrounding streets and vehicles, his vigilance almost instinctive.

Just as his gaze was about to sweep past Xu Yan's direction, his right hand subconsciously rose and gently pressed against his left chest through the fabric of his jacket.

This subtle movement was magnified instantly in Xu Yan's eyes, like a faint spark streaking across the dark night.

That suspicious question this morning, "Still alive...?"

The trap of the emergency center, and that coincidental commission.

At this moment, all the points were cruelly connected by a line called "doubt".

The anger in Xu Yan's chest, the anger to seek justice for his father, did not die out; instead, it burned even colder and calmer.

To barge in directly would be tantamount to walking into a trap, and would also alert the enemy.

The man in front of them, who had just emerged from a dangerous place and was clearly carrying something, was undoubtedly the most readily available, and perhaps the most crucial, fulcrum to unlock all of this.

The engine emitted a deep hum.

The black sedan silently glided into the misty rain and traffic, like a silent ghost, steadily following the figure in the dark jacket ahead.

The rain showed no signs of stopping, pounding against the roof of the car and forming a natural sound barrier that separated the inside and outside of the car into two different worlds.

Zhou Wenbin didn't go home or to any familiar places. He just wandered aimlessly along the wet streets, occasionally stopping to look at shop windows, as if to check if anyone was following him.

Xu Yan's patience was like a noose that was gradually tightening.

The mirror of life was pressed against his chest. The coldness was no longer a burden, but a reminder, a cold resolve.

He needed an opportunity, a chance to get close and to obtain the "medium".

The opportunity came quickly.

Zhou Wenbin turned into a relatively quiet old street, where most of the shops had long since closed down, and rainwater washed over the mottled walls.

He seemed to want to take a shortcut, and quickened his pace.

Just as he was passing a puddle, a food delivery scooter sped past him, splashing up a cloud of muddy water.

Zhou Wenbin instinctively dodged to the side, his jacket sleeve brushing against the sharp metal edge of an abandoned newsstand next to him.

"Shoot-"

A soft tearing sound.

"Damn it, you don't watch where you're driving."

Zhou Wenbin cursed under his breath, stopped, and raised his arm to check.

The jacket sleeve had a small tear, but fortunately it didn't seem to have injured the skin.

He frowned, habitually brushed off the dust and water stains, and continued walking forward without lingering.

But he didn't notice that on the metal edge, there was an extremely thin thread that had come out from the tear in his jacket, and... a wisp of almost invisible, tiny skin flakes that had stuck on from the rapid friction.

Xu Yan's heart skipped a beat.

It's now!

He pushed open the car door almost at the same time Zhou Wenbin turned around, and slipped into the rain like a ghost.

He walked quickly to the newsstand, his movements swift and precise. With his fingertips, he carefully removed the thread covered in dandruff, then took a small pair of tweezers from his keychain—the kind originally used for handling film—and placed them, along with a few almost invisible beads of blood, into a small plastic bag he had prepared.

The medium is in hand.

He quickly retreated back into the car, but the engine remained running.

Through the rain-blurred car window, he saw Zhou Wenbin's figure about to disappear at the end of the old street. He couldn't follow any longer; following any longer would inevitably expose him.

Xu Yan took a deep breath and drove the car into a deeper corner, where several abandoned trash cans were piled up, almost completely hidden in the shadows.

Can't wait any longer.

Xu Yan picked up the heavy Soul-Sealing Camera from the passenger seat.

The cold metal body of the camera body was chilling to the touch. The special lens, known as the "Synchronous Lens," gleamed with a deep luster in the dim light, like a frozen eye peering into the abyss.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the surging cold anger and a barely perceptible tension in his chest.

Success or failure depends on this.

He carefully took the thread, which was covered with tiny flakes of skin and beads of blood, from the plastic bag and tightly wrapped it around the camera's focus ring.

This was the most direct "medium" he could think of to connect with Zhou Wenbin.

He rolled down the car window a crack, and the icy rain, mixed with the chill, immediately poured in.

He placed the camera steadily on the windowsill, his right eye pressed against the viewfinder.

The world within the viewfinder is instantly compressed and focused.

Zhou Wenbin was standing under the platform's canopy, looking at his watch with slight anxiety. His profile was somewhat blurred in the rain.

Xu Yan held her breath and gently placed her fingertips on the shutter button.

He poured all his energy—the stinging pain from the brand on his father's arm, his anger at the central conspiracy, and his almost obsessive desire for the truth—into his fingertips, transmitting it through the cold machinery to that eerie lens.

hum...

A very faint tremor, as if from the depths of the soul, came through the camera body.

In the viewfinder, Zhou Wenbin's figure seemed to distort, and the surrounding light seemed to collapse towards him.

Deep within the mirror of the same life, a gray mist seemed to be silently churning.

It's now!

Click.

Xu Yan pressed the shutter without hesitation.

There was no blinding flash, only a very faint "pop" sound, like a sigh, as if an invisible bubble had been popped.

The instant the shutter clicked, Xu Yan felt an irresistible, bone-chilling force suddenly surge through the camera lens.

That wasn't a physical impact, but rather something that acted directly on his soul.

His consciousness seemed to be uprooted and thrown into a rapidly spinning vortex filled with distorted light and noise.

The world spun around him, and a strong feeling of nausea overwhelmed him.

……

The first sensation is a suffocating heaviness.

It felt like being buried alive in soaking wet cotton, and every breath required tremendous effort.

All I could hear was the amplified roar of blood and the heavy pounding of my heart.

Xu Yan struggled to "open" his eyes.

The view was blurry, as if covered by a thick, sloshing layer of oil.

He was standing under the awning of the bus stop, the sound of rain hitting the roof deafening.

He succeeded.

He possessed Zhou Wenbin's body.

He tried to raise "his own" hand.

The movements were stiff and sluggish, as if controlling a rusty marionette, the body's instincts weakly resisting every command.

He tried to take a step, but his steps were unsteady, one foot deep and one foot shallow.

We must act quickly.

His goal was clear: what was in Zhou Wenbin's inner pocket, and his next destination.

(End of this chapter)