Wu Xiaoming sat without moving for quite a while. It was quiet. Apart from his own heartbeat, he heard only the sounds of the wind and the leaves. The bear-themed statues, paintings and other decorations did not take away from the tranquility this area provided, which, ironically, could be one of the reasons that the reclusive former star chose this place as his own “den”. Wu Xiaoming himself could use more of this - this closeness to nature, the quiet escapism from his daily struggles and nightly fights. Something for him to think and plan about.
Unlike most of the other houses in this community, the owner did not clear out too much of the area behind the main house, and right now many branches had reached into the backyard - one of which was from a loquat tree.
A few loquat fruits on the tree were close to ripe, two of them were low enough that he could simply pick them up without jumping. So he did.
Yet, when he ripped open one of the loquats, the fruit was already somewhat spoiled from inside - not rotten, but spoiled. The seeds were shriveled, with brown and gray pulp spreading from the center of the fruit to the outer layers. When he fixed his eyes on the fruit and pushed his vision to the fullest extent, a few very thin traces of light gray smoke were coming out of the shriveled seeds.
He ripped open the other one - same deal. It was as if the tree itself was infested, and the spoilage was spread from the tree itself to the fruit. He checked the top of the loquats, the area around the stem end was darker than others, and gave off a strange smell.
He walked closer to the fences to examine the loquat tree itself. The bark of the tree was gray, covered in mold and cracks. He looked up the pictures of loquat trees on his phone, and none of them looked quite like this.
He checked out some other trees on both sides - most of them showed the same symptoms. He picked a few more fruits off these trees - mostly just lemon trees, and one orange tree, one lime tree. Almost all of them showed the same symptoms, and the only difference was severity. A few of the lemons were even more serious than the loquats. The trees that bore these lemons showed more infections, and they had many more rotten fruits on their branches.
“No - no.” Wu Xiaoming shook his head and threw away the impulse to climb through the fence to check out the trees. They might provide him with some information, but nothing would help with his situation right now. He was simply procrastinating.
With this realization in mind, he headed out of the backyard. Yes, he had been procrastinating, but it was purely due to the fact that he had no alternatives. He checked his phone once again, the time it would take to go downtown was updated to 72 minutes, that was not taking into account the time it would take for the rideshare to come here.
Maybe he could just explore the community a bit more, then head home, order some food and prepare for tonight.
He had thought the house of Tom Barracuda was at the inner end of the entire community, or at least very close to it. But it turned out that impression was wrong - quite wrong actually. Because as he walked past this house and a turn shaded by tall trees and on the side of a small garden, he was met with a small winding road leading to the higher parts of the hill - with more houses along the way, many of which were partially hidden by terrain and trees as well. From the looks of it, there was another small cluster of houses on the higher up parts of the hill - bigger and fancier looking as well. When he got the chance, he could go up and take a look in real life.
He could also go up and check everything out in the ethereal realm - but that would be for later.
This should be it, he had spent enough time out here already. Just a few more hours before the evening. It would probably be best if he could get some rest before he would enter the ethereal realm.
He checked out Tom Barracuda’s house one more time on his way back. He looked up at the second and third floor windows. A faint shadow of a bear suit flashed on the second window to the left on the second floor. But when he focused and fixed his eyes on it, there was nothing. He looked at all of the windows again - there was nothing.
Something else to check out later. He continued his way back home, having placed an order from a nearby beef noodle shop along the way.
This time, he stood before the next door neighbor's house for a brief moment, examining the structure, the “aura”, and trying to peek inside the house through the windows. Still, nothing obvious as to why the painting and sculptures in the house would come alive in the ethereal realm.
Maybe it was because the sun was still up? Maybe it was because whatever unclean energy inhabiting the house was still dormant. He could go in and check again later, but - there was a lot on his plate for later, there might not be time.
Maybe he should get a sneaky, all-black night suit, with which he could basically sneak into places. But placing this kind of order online would surely raise some alarms.
Another problem for later consideration. He went back to the house and began researching about the Sproutlinger Hotel again. What Elijah Erikson told him earlier still stayed with him - underground occult scene, it seemed like a good lead to dig into. But - things being underground naturally meant information about them was hard to find. And it was, though in a different way - there was indeed quite a lot of information out there, but most were exaggerated, dramatised, and a lot of times too conspiratorial to be believable.
The food took around forty minutes to arrive, the noodles were still warm, luckily, not as soggy as it could have been. The beef was quite tasty though, which was nice. He ordered two extra portions, and he finished both, along with the regular one that came with the noodle.
After the dinner, he took a long, warm and relaxing shower. He thought about taking a bath - but it would take too much time to actually make it, and it seemed like too much hassle.
Changing into a suit of comfortable clothes, on the other hand, was quite easy. He put on a pair of long and comfortable pants, a flexible shirt and a thick but still comfortable coat. Just to be safe, he put two fire talismans in his coat pocket and surrounded himself with a salt circle before lying on a yoga mat covered in a duvet in the basement gym. With his phone connected to a charger, and took one quick look at the time: 7:33 PM. The sun would begin to set soon. He should probably go into the ethereal realm - the earlier the better.
The earlier, the better. He reminded himself this a few more times before he closed his eyes.
Before he could open his eyes, a giant, cold hand grabbed him by the right wrist and began pulling him. His entire body seemed to be dragged through some kind of long, winding and slippery tube. He immediately grabbed the giant, cold hand, pushing his Qi and releasing golding light on both his palms. He opened his eyes as a faint screech and scream came from a distance - the scenery of the city in the ethereal realm flashed before his eyes. He was thrown onto the cold hard ground before he could prepare for landing or do anything else.
Walls around him, a number was on the pale gray wall behind him. A flight of stairs up, and another down. It was the corner of a staircase. And if he was correct, it was the internal fire escape of the Sproutlinger Hotel.
He checked his right hand - a gray mark ran across his palm and the base of his fingers, as if someone whose hand was covered in paint just shook hands with him.
Someone DID shake hands with him - it was Elijah Erikson, the old man who owned the hotel.
“Fuck you, old man.” Wu Xiaoming cursed as he climbed up and shook his head. He checked the wall behind him for the number of the floors - he was on the third floor.
He pushed the door that would lead him to the hall and the rooms, the door was locked and seemed to be fortified by some kind of invisible force.
He took a deep breath then walked down one floor - the number on the wall did not change, it was still three.
He tried two more times, and still, he seemed to be stuck on the third floor.
He went up one time, and he reached the fourth floor.
Footsteps came from the floors below, sharp objects scraping the handrails. Something was coming up through the stairs.