By the time the sun broke over the city, I already knew I wasn't alone.
It wasn't an immediate sense, like the pressure behind my eyes when touching a corpse. It was slower, creeping, almost mundane.
The courier came first.
A small brown envelope, slipped under the lab door. No handwriting. No stamp. Only a single word on the front:
WATCH.
Inside, a single photograph: Xu Yichen's stairwell. Blurred slightly at the edges, but unmistakable—the faint scuff mark where someone had waited for him. And in the corner, just barely visible, the shadow of another figure. Tall. Clean cut. Deliberate.
I held the photo in my hands and felt the residue pulse through me—not grief, not guilt—but anticipation. A warning left behind before the threat arrived.
Ling leaned over my shoulder. "Shen… who sent it?"
I shook my head. "No idea. But someone is watching, and they know what we've discovered."
1. THE FIRST VISIT
By noon, the pressure escalated.
Two men appeared outside the lab. Clean suits. Black sunglasses, despite the dim light. Neither knocked. Neither spoke. They simply observed.
I didn't panic. Not yet. But Ling went pale.
"They're not from the lab," she whispered.
"No," I said. "They're checking me out. Not curious, not polite. Assessing risk."
The two men lingered long enough for the street's daily rhythm to flow around them. Cars, pedestrians, stray cats. But their gaze remained fixed. Waiting. Patient.
Eventually, they walked away. But not entirely. A third shadow, taller than either, lingered at a nearby intersection. Watching. Calculating.
I exhaled.
"They know something," I said. "Something only we know. Or the dead know."
Ling shook her head. "Why us?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Not yet.
2. RESIDUE IN THE WILD
The residue was changing.
It no longer stayed within the walls of the lab or near the corpses. Now it moved with me. Shadows in hallways carried a whisper of it. A coffee cup, left overnight, felt like a pulse against my hand. Open file folders screamed expectation.
Everywhere I went, I felt the dead—some approving, some warning, some indifferent—but their presence now overlapped with real, living eyes.
I realized then that Xu Yichen's choice had created a network. Not just of silence, but of alertness.
The dead weren't interfering—they were influencing. Indirectly. Subtly. Waiting to see if I would slip.
And the living? They were starting to take note.
3. THE UNINVITED GUESTS
That afternoon, the lab doors rattled violently.
"Security?" I shouted, heart racing.
No response.
I approached cautiously. The locks were intact, but the handle had been forced.
Ling followed closely behind. "Shen… they're inside."
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
Inside, the lab was untouched. At first glance. But something felt… off.
Evidence drawers slightly ajar. Files not where I had left them. And on the table, a single card:
"Curiosity will get you watched."
No signature. No number. No camera. Only intent.
The residue hit then, like a shockwave.
Grief, anticipation, warning. And beneath it, something sharp, dangerous.
Someone had touched the objects I had been working with.
Not the dead.
The living.
And they had left a message.
4. THE MORAL CROSSROADS
I locked the lab and called Chen.
"No anomalies," I said flatly.
"You're sure?" he asked.
"Yes. Except… someone was here."
There was silence. Then, carefully: "Shen… you need to understand. There are… organizations that notice unusual activity. And unusual activity attracts attention."
"I know," I said.
"Not just police," he continued. "Criminal groups. Influential networks. They will act if they feel exposed."
I clenched my fists.
Ling looked at me. "So we're… targets?"
"Possibly," I admitted. "And the residue isn't helping. The dead are already influencing perception. We're… amplified."
She swallowed. "Amplified how?"
I hesitated. "I don't know. But it's active. It's not neutral anymore. And it's attracting the wrong kind of eyes."
5. SURVEILLANCE AND STRATEGY
We spent the next three hours combing through the lab. Every lock, every window, every camera feed.
Nothing.
Yet I could feel it. The presence of observers—human, aware, patient. Calculating.
We set up decoys. Evidence stored in false locations. Logs altered to create misleading trails.
All precautions, and yet I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Residue mingled with living scrutiny. Every place Xu Yichen had been now felt like it had eyes on both sides of the veil.
Ling finally said, quietly: "They'll come in person next."
I didn't argue.
I knew she was right.
6. THE FIRST CONTACT
The knock came just after six p.m.
Two men entered. This time, no envelopes. No photos. Just presence. Authority.
They were young. Clean. Confident. Dangerous without raising their voices.
One stepped forward. "Dr. Shen," he said. "We understand you've been… curious."
I didn't respond.
He smiled faintly. "That curiosity is commendable. But also risky."
"Who sent you?" Ling asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Your curiosity sent us," he replied.
Ling froze.
I realized then that this was no ordinary warning.
They didn't need to identify themselves. They weren't here to negotiate.
They were here to monitor.
And, in a way, to test me.
7. EMOTIONAL COLLISION
Residue pulsed again, sharper this time.
Anger. Calculated frustration. Vigilance.
Not mine. Not fully.
The dead and the living overlapped in a collision of influence.
I felt it in my chest, my hands, my temples.
I clenched the edge of the lab table.
This was different from the warnings before. This was preemptive pressure. Not supernatural, not mortal—but both.
And it was personal.
Ling touched my shoulder. "Shen… we can't fight this normally."
"No," I said. "We adapt. Or we disappear."
I paused, looking at the city beyond the window.
The living were awake now. Watching. Evaluating.
And the dead? They were silently approving or disapproving my every choice.
Either way, there was no turning back.
8. THE RESIDUE'S LESSON
That night, alone in the lab, I ran my hands over Xu Yichen's file.
For the first time, I felt a faint… gratitude.
Residue, I realized, was teaching me.
How to measure risk. How to anticipate not just the dead, but the living.
The dead had always been observant.
The living were learning fast.
I wrote a single line in my notebook:
Attention attracts attention. And attention is deadly.
I closed the notebook.
Outside, the city lights glimmered faintly.
And I knew—whether by warning, instinct, or curse—the game had already begun.