The Lost Corpse

Chapter 3: The Corpse's Narration 3

I shouldn't be afraid of humans; they should be afraid of me. But this logic is completely overturned in the presence of the twisted and brainless skeleton. Why are those without shoes afraid of those with shoes? Because those with shoes scatter shards of broken glass on the road! If my hand could move, I would definitely slap him to get his thoughts back on the broad path of socialism from the crooked road he's on. At the same time, I saw a faintly discernible arm pass through his head, which startled me.

Then, I felt like that arm was mine?

But when the arm returned to its original place on the skeleton, I couldn't lift it again. I then attempted to move different parts of my body, well, needless to say, it was all in vain. He stood up, and from the sound, it seemed like he took a few steps and sat in another spot, after which there was complete silence.

I feel like this situation will unfold like Conan. The case gradually unravels, with a jumble of clues that only Conan can discern, making it confusing. One can only wait for Conan to turn around, wave his hand and say, "There's only one truth!" Then, he slowly restores the murder scene. Unfortunately, the Conan in my episode turned into a pervert to boost ratings.

I'm puzzled by why he kissed me. The conclusion seems obvious. My brain may have remained useless for too long, sometimes bursting with information, other times blank and chaotic. A knock on the door rescued me. He stood up, walked around the sofa, and opened the door. A strange male voice sounded, "You really found him? How is that even possible..." Then, the owner of the voice rushed in front of me. He looked at me, and I also looked at him, his hair was dyed yellow.

"How is it possible? Look at the pelvis of this corpse, it's clearly female. Even if you can't identify the pelvis, the height has obviously shrunk. At most, she's barely 1.6 something tall, while Wumo is 1.73 meters." Yellow Hair anxiously turned to him, expressing his thoughts.

"No, it's exactly him," his voice remained calm.

"You're insane!" Yellow Hair gasped for breath, "Even if you want to go mad, at least find a somewhat convincing body. After all these years, what exactly are you trying to achieve? Are you planning to live with a corpse for a lifetime?"

"It's him, I know he's there in the forest, sitting under that big tree, waiting for me. You wouldn't understand."

"Well then, congratulations to you. After his death, you can finally be in love with a female corpse, fulfilling one kind of convention and breaking another. You knew he was waiting for you in that forest? You must have gone to look for him a long time ago, right? Why bring him back now? Is it because this corpse only recently died there? If a dead tiger was there, would you also bring it back thinking he was changed into it?" Yellow Hair grabbed the weirdo's collar, shouting.

He looked at me with a complex expression, exerting some effort to pry Yellow Hair's hand away. "Regardless, just help me out."

"You know I won't help you."

"You've brought the stuff already. I'm a lunatic, but you're my brother. Help me go crazy for a bit."

Since Yellow Hair began mentioning that my skeleton was a woman's, countless messages erupted in my brain resisting this claim. Almost subconsciously, I always believed I was a man. But who could prove it? My memories were wiped clean, and even self-affirmation wouldn't hold up.

Now, is he the only crazy one?

I felt that none of the three people in the room were normal. I began to doubt my own gender. The instigator calmly watched me on the side, while Yellow Hair soaked me in some strange liquid, dried me, and used steel wires to connect my joints. From beginning to end, the night created a vacuum, enveloping these unusual scenes.

The author's has something to say:
I promised a light tone, not a dark one...

I'll try to shift things in the next chapter...

But rest assured, "I" is a man.