There are no vicious, man-eating dogs here; these three dogs are so silly that when they see a cat, they just wag their tails desperately.

He saw that in the apartment upstairs—the one from which the eerie old phonograph music drifted down yesterday—the white curtains fluttered in the wind, and behind them, he could vaguely make out a slender figure dancing to gentle music.

He saw the butcher on the street, wearing a leather apron and a cigarette dangling from his lips, always smiling and especially polite to everyone he met.

The sunlight was warm, and everything was peaceful.

Henry Bennett looked at the elderly people chatting in this old alley, and the little girls skipping about, and felt as if he had entered another world, completely different from the gloomy, chilling atmosphere of yesterday.

His heart felt much lighter, but he still didn’t dare to relax. With his hands in his pockets, he walked through the alley and onto the main street.

Looking up at this world, he actually felt a bit of unfamiliarity.

Those commercial buildings that had sprung up who knows when, the light rail lines crisscrossing the city’s midsection, the massive factories crowding the city’s edge, and the pale, dim sun.

There were shadows of what he remembered, but somehow, things seemed different.

But what met his eyes was just a boundless, sprawling city, not the eerie ghostly realm he had seen yesterday.

All he saw were people of all kinds, living all kinds of lives.

Busy or leisurely white-collar elites walked down the street with coffee in hand, young women with ponytails sprinted to catch the subway, and on the huge billboards, sultry, scantily clad girls blew kisses to the city.

Everything seemed to be running normally. It was different from his memories, but also felt perfectly natural.

Was this sense of unfamiliarity because he hadn’t left home in four years, or had the world itself been replaced, filling it with so many things that felt strange to him?

Henry Bennett couldn’t tell for the moment.

He could only look at this vast and profound world, unable to doubt its reality.

All these people, living, breathing people—how could they possibly be monsters?

Maybe, it really was all just his imagination, and everything he experienced yesterday was nothing but hallucination and delusion?

Henry Bennett hurriedly looked down and glanced at the band-aid on his hand. Suddenly, he tore it off forcefully, revealing the deep wound beneath.

The pain of the freshly reopened wound reminded him that this wasn’t fake, so what happened yesterday was real too—he had “killed” William Carter, and Grace Cooper had put the band-aid on him…

But…

Thinking back to the past four years, the countless half-real, half-illusory mutterings, the bone-deep headaches, the invasion of dreams and reality into each other.

He suddenly felt a bit afraid. What if yesterday’s memories were fake too?

What if he hadn’t really “killed” any monster, but had just punched a mirror, injuring his hand?

Just like his mother—was her love for him also just a monster’s disguise?

The more he thought about it, the more agitated he became, and he suddenly quickened his pace, hurrying home.

But just as he pushed open the gate to the yard, he suddenly heard a cold voice:

“Where have you been fooling around all day again?”

“……”

Henry Bennett looked up and saw his mother standing in the yard with a cold expression, forcefully dumping the untouched plate of dumplings into the trash can.

She was still wearing the uniform of a sales assistant from some big supermarket, as if she had just gotten home and hadn’t had time to change, but when she saw Henry Bennett, she couldn’t hide her dissatisfaction: “You don’t eat, you don’t come home.”

“You’re already this old—what exactly do you want to do?”

“You’re going to get married one day, have kids, get a wife—am I supposed to take care of you for the rest of my life?”

“Go find your dad. You two are the same. Let him take care of you—he’s got plenty of money anyway!”

“……”

Henry Bennett stopped at the gate, staring fixedly at his mother.

He saw her pacing irritably around the yard, constantly slamming things in her hands, and when her anger reached its peak, she suddenly turned to glare at Henry Bennett with hatred.

Beneath her skin, there was the movement of an eyeball rolling by.

“Swish…”

At that moment, Henry Bennett suddenly felt a chill all over, stumbling back a step.

But for some reason, deep inside, he actually felt an unexpected sense of relief, the confusion in his mind slowly dissipating.

She really was a monster, a monster just like William Carter.

He didn’t need to be confused or run away anymore. The world really was just as Grace Cooper had described—monsters everywhere.

But…

He looked at his mother, her expression growing more and more vicious, as if her skin was about to be torn apart by some writhing creature beneath, and suddenly felt a bit hesitant…

What should he do?

Chapter Five: The Job of Catching Rats

His mother came closer and closer, the resentment in her eyes almost tangible. Everything around them seemed to distort and blur, like a nightmare.

So, in fact, not everything had returned to normal…

He remembered what Grace Cooper had told him before: it was only because he had killed William Carter that the world had given him less than a day of reprieve, and now it was back to its malicious state?

So, what should he do now?

At some point, his heart had started to pound heavier and heavier, blood surging into his brain.

“Is this Henry Bennett’s home?”