So-Called Karma 7

Yan Xianchuan followed the sound and saw Lu Mingqiu holding a brown hardcover notebook, reading intently.

Paper notebooks were extremely rare—something you couldn't find anywhere in the outside world. Its cover looked clean, without much damage, so its owner must have taken good care of it.

Yan Xianchuan didn't disturb her reading and instead examined the bedroom.

It was small, with a single bed against the wall. The blue bedsheet had faded from washing, and the quilt was piled messily on top, its edges frayed from excessive laundering.

Across from the bed was a desk. There were no books on it, but there was a box of jigsaw puzzles. Its production date was too blurry to read, but from the wear on the box, it had been there for a long time.

On the wall hung a faded, yellowed poster of an anime character. One corner was curled up, revealing faint scratches beneath. Yan Xianchuan walked over and lifted it, exposing a line of small black handwriting: "Mom is crazy, but I'm not."

In the corner stood a wardrobe. Yan Xianchuan opened the door; inside were only a few scattered clothes. She crouched down and pulled out a pair of scissors from the very back. The edges had a few nicks, but they were still fairly sharp and usable, except they were stained with an ominous dark brown.

One glance told her it was dried blood.

Lu Mingqiu came over and handed her the diary. "I'll check the other rooms."

It was about a finger thick, with yellowed, grayish pages. On the flyleaf was written: "No peeking."

The handwriting was the same as that on the wall.

The early entries were all normal. Written by a young girl, they described a harmonious family with loving parents. Her diary was sweet, and even the occasional complaints about her mother reminding her to eat fruit felt like subconscious showing off.

She liked flying kites. When the craftsman in town who made them passed away, her father made one for her by hand. She wrote that the kite was ugly, but to avoid discouraging her father, she praised his work, then happily played with it all afternoon.

The first third of the diary was full of these trivial household matters—catching a cricket one day, being licked by a puppy the next. The little town girl's life seemed filled with endless joys.

Yan Xianchuan skipped nothing. She sat down at the desk and read every page carefully.

Until one day, six years ago, she wrote that a church had been built in town, and many people went there to listen to preaching because the church handed out free food—eggs, flour, milk, and such.

Gradually, people began to believe, praying at home. Her parents also became believers. Life seemed unchanged, except for an added prayer before meals. Since the food was from the church, thanking them seemed only right.

Later, the news was all about a virus leak. A virus from a laboratory in a neighboring city had leaked due to improper handling. It infected people and livestock, making them fly into a rage and attack randomly, until they suddenly dropped dead. Every household was panicking, and officials encouraged people to isolate at home and wait for the Federation to develop an antidote.

Her parents rushed to hoard food, but everyone had the same idea. All the supermarkets were empty. They managed to buy some supplies, but it wouldn't last two weeks.

From then on, her diary stopped being daily, with entries sometimes days or even weeks apart.

She wrote: "There's less and less food at home. We only eat two meals a day, one dish. Even so, Mom and Dad are still worried. They don't smile anymore. Dad watches the news all day, hoping for new policies, but many people are reporting the food shortage, and there's still no response."

"Today they argued. I said I could eat only one meal a day and skip my share. They hugged me and cried. Before bed, Mom gave me a jelly. I thought those snacks were long gone. She told me not to be afraid."

"I can't believe it! The church people actually came to bring us food. That's amazing! They're truly good people! Everyone has something to eat now. They also announced on the radio that they'll keep delivering supplies, so we shouldn't lose hope."

"The virus still isn't under control. We've been stuck at home for half a year without going out. Fortunately, the church keeps bringing food. Dad doesn't watch the news as much anymore. Many cities are infected, but our town escaped because it's small and we started isolating early. I'm really glad everyone is still alive."

"Some people couldn't stand it and ran out, but without exception, they got infected and died. How tragic. I wonder why they were so desperate."

"Today is my fifteenth birthday. It's been a year since the isolation started. Mom baked a cake, and Dad found a box of puzzles somewhere. I thought there was nothing new left in the house. I'm so happy, except Mom never plays with us. She says she doesn't know how."

"This time, the food delivery person brought something different—a small box with medicine in it, for heart disease. They said it was a new product, different from before, and it would help a lot after taking it. Thank the church; without them, Mom would be suffering terribly."

"The new medicine really works. Mom's chest pain is gone, but she has frequent nightmares. When I asked what they were about, she couldn't say. I asked the church people during the delivery, and they said it was a common side effect. Side effects are fine; nightmares are better than heart pain."

"Mom's been acting strange lately. Every time I get up at night, I see her sitting in the living room, but when I ask her the next morning, she says she was sleeping in her room all night. Dad says she never left either. Could I be imagining it? But I've seen her several nights in a row."

"The church gave me some medicine. They said that being cooped up too long can cause hallucinations, so they prescribed this. After taking it, I stopped seeing Mom at night."

"Mom was secretly eating something tasty. When I went over, it was a finger! I was so scared I screamed. But looking again, it was just a braised chicken foot. I scared myself half to death. Chicken feet are delicious."

"Playing puzzles with Mom. Mom is so slow. We used to work so well together."

"She actually tried to hit me with a knife. Mom is crazy—really crazy. What is she doing? I had to tie her to the bed. The church gave me some sedatives. After taking them, she calmed down."

"Mom isn't eating again. Didn't she used to love braised pork? I fed her, but she vomited all over me. Honestly. But she's sick, so maybe she just has no appetite. She's been getting more confused lately, saying all sorts of weird things. I hope the virus is eliminated soon so I can take her outside for some fresh air."

"Mom cried today. She said something about Dad. How strange—when did we ever have a dad in our family?"

When Yan Xianchuan turned the page, the rest was blank. The diary ended there.

She set down the diary and went out of the bedroom to find Lu Mingqiu. "Was there ever a virus leak?" she asked in confusion. "You know I still have amnesia, so I'm not sure."

"No," Lu Mingqiu denied. "Never. This was likely fabricated by the Church to keep people indoors. Controlling the internet and forging news isn't difficult for the Church and its backers."

"So this family... the mother and daughter ate the father? And then the daughter ate the mother?" Yan Xianchuan said. "The medicine they gave them was tainted."

"Probably," Lu Mingqiu said. "I found a female skeleton under the bed. It might belong to the lady of the house."

"I wonder if she's alive or dead now," Yan Xianchuan said.

The front door had been busted open. The girl survived until the chaos erupted, then ran out and vanished.

Yan Xianchuan picked up a photo frame from the floor, shook off the broken glass, and saw a family of three standing on a lawn, smiling brightly. On the back was a drawn heart.

"Is this an experiment method for mental stimulation?" she asked, as the sounds of fighting outside continued. "Then why did the Church make everyone fight? It will kill many people. Aren't test subjects supposed to be precious?"

"I don't know," Lu Mingqiu sighed softly. "I don't know everything."

"Anyway, let's rest here for a while."

"You rest," Yan Xianchuan said, gazing into her eyes. "I'll keep watch."

"Be careful," Lu Mingqiu said. She knew her own condition—what she needed most now was rest, not heroics. "If anything unusual happens, you must tell me."

"I will, don't worry," Yan Xianchuan said, gently pushing her shoulder to sit her on the bed. A thousand lies had come from her lips, but before Lu Mingqiu, she always maintained the virtue of honesty and never stinted on promises.

"Trust me."

She couldn't leave this house. She had to guard Lu Mingqiu and ensure her safety. Fortunately, the drones allowed her to observe the outside world.

Thank goodness the drones didn't require internet; otherwise, she'd be flying blind.

The streets were still chaotic, but compared to before, fewer people were fighting. Perhaps it had something to do with the many bodies lying on the ground, whether alive or dead.

Not all newly awakened espers lost control; some regained their senses and hid from the bloodbath.

But as Yan Xianchuan observed their abilities, they seemed low-level.

Those people were confused and desperately trying to kill each other, so they held nothing back. They used their powers at full force.

Yet Yan Xianchuan noticed that some could only spray water to wet people, while others could fly only two or three meters high before falling back down. Their powers seemed weak.

She hadn't interacted with many espers, so she could only compare with those she'd seen.

Lu Mingqiu was an A-rank esper. Her strength was unquestionable—formidable in both destructive power and utility.

Gold Ring was B-rank with some limitations, but he could freely bend and reshape metal, control its speed, and even use metal to levitate and fly low.

Compared to them, these newly awakened espers were like children playing with toy magic wands. Their power was far less than a bullet.

If the Church had gone to such lengths to create espers only to end up with this, they had undoubtedly failed.

The town wasn't small. Based on its area and size, it could hold thirty to forty thousand people. It had a small cinema, a post office, a bank, a hospital, and other facilities—well-developed infrastructure. It must have been a prosperous town once.

But all the signs were now faded, covered in rust. Some new signs had fallen off, revealing the original building names beneath.

From the earlier data, Walnut Town had only a few thousand permanent residents. After the Great Cleansing, the town had rapidly declined. But a quick glance showed far fewer people wandering the streets than that, suggesting many stayed indoors.

What exactly was the Great Cleansing?

Yan Xianchuan had never cared about this world's history, so she had never looked it up. She only vaguely knew it was a world war.

After the war, the surviving nations united under a single government, acknowledging a supreme authority—the current Federation.

But if it were a normal world war, they would have called it the First or Second World War. Why call it the Great Cleansing? It sounded like some kind of racial supremacy or inferior-human elimination plan.

That wasn't a good word.

But she couldn't investigate it now. She'd have to wait until they left this place.

The Church still hadn't shown itself, remaining hidden in the shadows.

The earlier green smoke had probably only affected ordinary people. Lu Mingqiu had smelled it without any reaction. The birds perched on the power lines were also unaffected. The disguised drones, hidden among the flock, moved with them.

Yan Xianchuan focused all her attention on observing the outside situation.

Suddenly, she heard a faint scraping sound. Something was making its way up the stairs, step by step.