They All Say I Encountered A Ghost Chapter 3

Mr. Saw was unexpectedly weak. When I grabbed his arm, he couldn't raise the chainsaw.

"You!!!" He stared at me in shock, as if he wanted to ask why I was so strong.

Of course it was because I exercised regularly, often took part in extracurricular activities, had chosen Taekwondo as my elective, and knew a little about all kinds of martial arts. Dealing with an ordinary person was no problem.

Mr. Saw struggled desperately. A chainsaw was a dangerous tool, after all, so the back of my hand got cut in the fight.

Fortunately it was only a flesh wound. I s.n.a.t.c.hed away the chainsaw and pressed the switch.

The chainsaw didn't respond very well. It didn't turn off the first time, so I pressed the switch harder. Blood from the cut on the back of my hand dripped onto the switch. This time, the chainsaw turned off easily. The buzzing came to a stop.

I kicked the chainsaw away. Having taken care of the dangerous weapon, I now had to deal with Mr. Saw. If, as he himself had said, he had already sawed off several people's legs, then I had to call the police.

But when I looked at him, I saw Mr. Saw had fallen to the floor, his eyes rolling up into his head and his tongue hanging out.

I quickly ran over to shake him, but he looked even worse, his face as pale and bloodless as a corpse in a TV drama.

"What's the matter with you?" Although he had just tried to attack me, I still acted in the spirit of humanitarianism, repaying evil with good. If I managed it badly and got a mark on my record for using excessive force in self-defense, it would make it even more difficult to find work.

"B-blood..." His legs flailed on the floor. He looked very ill, as if he was about to start foaming at the mouth.

"Blood?" I looked at my injured hand, then waved the wound in front of his eyes. "You mean this?"

"B-blood..." Mr. Saw's face was agonized.

I made a guess, then took off my jacket and shirt. I regretfully used my newly bought white shirt to wrap the wound and stop the blood.

As I'd thought, Mr. Saw looked much better when he could no longer see the blood. He slowly got to his feet, leaning against the wall. He looked at me in alarm, constantly glancing at the chainsaw out of the corner of his eye.

I thought at first that he was going to take this chance to pick it up and attack me again, but instead when he saw the chainsaw he collapsed again. His eyes rolling up, he said, "B-blood..."

Now I was even more convinced. I took a napkin out of my bag and wiped my blood off the chainsaw.

When I had cleaned up all the blood in the room, Mr. Saw at last returned to normal. He clung to the wall, looking darkly at me. "Pure Yang blood! You're twenty-six years old. Are you actually still a virgin?!"

I'd meant to have a good talk with Mr. Saw, but hearing this, my face went red at once

"So what if I am?" I was very angry. I hated these kinds of personal attacks. "During school, I was focused on my studies, I wasn't about to pick a partner at random based on physiological impulses. I wouldn't play with people's feelings that way. It would be irresponsible towards myself and others. What's wrong with being a virgin? Do I have to have gone through hundreds of partners to be a man? Even though I'm a virgin, my spirit is still indomitable, and my conscience is clear."

Mr. Saw must not have expected that I wouldn't be humiliated like some self-important guys, but instead would forthrightly defend myself. He was struck dumb by my words and could only stare at me.

I had just gone through a battle and didn't have the strength to argue. I pulled over a chair and sat down. To Mr. Saw, I said, "There are some things we need to talk about. Whether or not I call the police depends on our conversation."

Mr. Saw looked at me grimly.

I waved my injured right hand at him. Seeing the blood soaking through the shirt, he turned his face away in terror.

I was finally able to confirm my guess. I asked, "Mr. Saw, does the sight of blood make you sick?"

I must have hit the nail on the head. He twisted his head to look at me.

"When saw me bleeding, your grip on the chainsaw weakened a lot and you let go, letting me s.n.a.t.c.h the chainsaw away," I a.n.a.lyzed. "After that, you seemed unwell."

Mr. Saw pounded his chest and began to cough violently. I wanted to pat his back for him, but when he saw me approaching he immediately screamed, "Ah! Stay away from me!"

I could only back up towards the door and quietly wait for him to calm down.

"Are you sure I shouldn't call an ambulance? Even though it's only a psychological issue, if someone with cardiovascular disease or asthma has a bad reaction to seeing blood, it can be very dangerous."

Mr. Saw looked even worse now. His lips were purple, very much like someone who was having trouble breathing.

"No need!" He glared furiously at me, then repeated, "Why are you a virgin? Why are you a virgin? What's the date and time of your birth?"

I didn't want to debate the virgin problem with him. People's views of the world built up slowly over time; a single debate wouldn't be enough to change them. So I only answered the last question: "I was born around noon on National Day."

"The day with the strongest Yang energy..." Mr. Saw began beating his chest again. He didn't seem to have any care for himself. The smacking sounds upset me.

"Stop hitting yourself!" I told him. "Tell me the truth. I'll decide based on your answer whether to call the police."

"I get sick at the sight of blood." He looked fearfully at my hand wrapped in my shirt. "Keep your wound away from me."

I put my right hand behind my back, then asked, "Since you're afraid of blood, how could you saw off other people's legs? That's unscientific."

"Science?" He rolled his eyes.

With Mr. Saw so uncooperative, I could only keep guessing. "Do you often have hallucinations? My height triggered some bad memories, so you tried to do the things you hallucinated? Is that right?"

Truthfully, I hoped Mr. Saw wasn't a chainsaw-wielding maniac who had injured people. He was short and lacked self-confidence. His life was hard to begin with. If he really had committed a crime and had to go to prison, his future would be even more difficult.

Now that I had the evidence of him being afraid of blood, I was naturally more inclined to think Mr. Saw had gone temporarily mad, and that he hadn't hurt anyone before.

If that was the truth, then as long as I didn't discover that Mr. Saw had maliciously injured others, I could counsel him to seek treatment for his mental illness. Then he would gradually improve.

I asked a few more questions in a row, but Mr. Saw refused to cooperate. He wouldn't answer my questions directly.

There was nothing else I could do. I fished out my phone and dialed 110. If Mr. Saw really was innocent, the police would treat him accordingly.

The cell signal in 404 was bad. I tried a few times without being able to call out. I wanted to go out to look for a signal, but it wasn't a good idea to leave Mr. Saw alone. What if he went crazy again and ran off with the chainsaw?

I was at my wits' end when my phone rang. It was the "94444" number.

Now there was a signal!

I picked up the phone and immediately said, "h.e.l.lo, am I speaking to Princ.i.p.al Zhang?"

"That's... right...bzzt..." Princ.i.p.al Zhang's voice was still slow, and the signal was full of static as before.

"There's something I want to talk to you about, a problem concerning the receptionist in Room 404. He calls himself Mr. Saw. He hasn't told me his real name. Could you tell me if you're aware of his psychological condition?"

"I... know...bzzt..."

"He tried to attack me with a chainsaw, and I fended him off. This behavior is very dangerous. I think that the school authorities should step in. Also, he talked about committing suicide by jumping off a building. His speech is full of holes. He even said he was already dead. I think his mental illness is very serious. He needs inst.i.tutional treatment."

"He never.... killed anyone... while living... bzzt..."

Why couldn't any of the people at this training inst.i.tute make sense! Why did they have to keep talking about living people as though they were dead?

I said somewhat indignantly, "Princ.i.p.al Zhang, Mr. Saw is only mentally ill, he isn't dead. We should help him, take care of him, not ignore him."

Right now I didn't care that I was talking to my future boss. I could do without a job where the employees tried to saw your legs off without provocation.

"Bzzt...I know...Tomorrow...I'll send...a professional...bzzt...Stay here...tonight...bank account number...transfer...emotional damage...bzzt..."

Princ.i.p.al Zhang's call dropped again. After all this fuss I had no strength left to argue, so I texted my bank account number and username to Princ.i.p.al Zhang, then turned to look at Mr. Saw.

He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. His expression was exhausted. He seemed to be sleeping.

I looked over the three bedrooms. Each room had a bed. I picked Mr. Saw up so I could put him to bed.

Mr. Saw startled awake. He opened his eyes and looked at me, his face frightened, then struggled and tried to get away.

I was speechless. Why was he the one who was scared?

"Which is your room?" I asked irritably.

He looked up and pointed at the darkest room.

I put him on the bed, then sighed. "Since Princ.i.p.al Zhang says you haven't killed anyone, I'll trust you. Tomorrow, the school will invite a psychological counselor to come help you. Don't try to cover up your problems. I'll be there with you."

Hearing that I would be there, Mr. Saw was alarmed.

Seeing that he really was afraid of me, I left the room and closed the door. While I was leaving, I said, "I'll sleep in the room next door. Wake me if you need anything. Don't think about running off with the chainsaw. I'm a light sleeper."

To prevent him from hurting anyone, I took the chainsaw and put it on the edge of the bed in the master bedroom. If anyone came to take the chainsaw, I would definitely be able to feel it.

Lying in bed, I thought about how scared Mr. Saw was of me. It must have been that he took me for one of those people who had bullied him before. That made me feel bad. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or to be angry.

My body felt heavy. Too many things had happened that night. I closed my eyes and gradually fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already broad daylight. I wiped drool away from the corner of my mouth, then reached out for the chainsaw. It was gone!

Surely I hadn't been so fast asleep that Mr. Saw had come in and taken it without waking me?

I vaulted out of bed and dashed out into the living room. I saw a young man with slanting eyebrows standing in the middle of the room. He wore a yellow robe with a design of the Eight Trigrams embroidered on the back. He was holding a wooden sword.

I felt like I had been transported into a television drama. Doubtfully, I said, "Uh... you are...?"

He looked me over from head to toe, snorted, then coldly said, "You are truly fortunate."