Chapter 146: The Book of Death (End)

“Then those unreliable high schoolers started messing things up for me!”

Rebecca complained as she continued her story.

Although he said he didn’t believe it, after parting ways with the others, Thomson went to a medical examination center the very next day.

The results were exactly as the prophecy had foretold—he had pancreatic cancer, already in its late stage, with at most one year left to live.

The result hit everyone like a heavy blow, making them certain that the prophecy of The Book of Death was real.

“Ahh! Damn it, damn it! Why me? Why me?!”

“Thomson, calm down…”

“How am I supposed to calm down?! Easy for you to say! Yeah, you’ve got it good—you’ll live to 76! Not like me, I’ll be dead in a year!”

When the four of them gathered again because of Thomson, he—once the most cheerful and easygoing member of the group of five—seemed like a completely different person. He was extremely agitated, no longer the carefree, open-hearted guy he used to be.

He redirected all his hatred and fear of death onto The Book of Death. With a trace of hidden jealousy, he shouted at Sophia—the only one among them destined for a long life:

“Where is that book? I think it’s cursed! I was perfectly healthy before, no illness at all—it must have cursed me and brought me to this state… Hey, Sophia, where is it? Bring it out right now!”

“No. I asked the fortune-teller—she said it’s an evil object that harms people. It must never be opened again, or it will lure others into falling.”

“Just as I thought—I knew there was something wrong with that book. There really is something wrong with it!”

After hearing Sophia’s words, Thomson grew even more agitated. His hands curled like claws as he grabbed tightly onto her shoulders, shaking her back and forth as he urged,

“…Hurry and take it out! That book cursed me—if we just destroy it, I’ll definitely recover!”

“Come on, take it out! Hurry!”

“Sophia, just take it out,” the Black girl Emma, who had always had a crush on Thomson, chimed in from the side. “I think he makes sense. Didn’t the fortune-teller also say it’s an evil book? Something like that is safer destroyed.”

Frightened by her companion’s sudden change in demeanor, Sophia hesitated for a while. In the end, she couldn’t withstand Thomson’s pressure and took The Book of Death out from a locked cabinet.

“Damn it, this is all your fault! All of it!”

Thomson’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression twisted. He snatched the book and began tearing at it, stomping on it, even trying to set it on fire in an attempt to destroy it. But the book seemed like something from another world—impossible to tear, impossible to crush, impossible to burn. No matter what he did, it remained completely intact.

Just as Thomson’s fury continued to surge, his gaze unintentionally swept across the book’s title page once more—

[This book exists to guide its reader, to foretell the time of death, and to point out a path to survival. Remember: life can be taken, but death is inevitable. With a longing for life and a fear of death, please enjoy this book to your heart’s content…]

The book claimed it would “foretell the time of death and point out a path to survival.”

The time of death was already known—so where was the path to survival?

Thomson’s eyes, filled with bloodshot veins, stared at the words on the title page for a long time. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.

So… that’s how it is.

…

Emma is dead.

On the very night they parted ways, she was attacked from behind and beaten to death downstairs outside her home.

There were no surveillance cameras nearby, and no witnesses at the time of the crime. The police investigated Emma’s social connections but found no suspicious individuals, and the case soon reached a dead end.

But Sophia knew who the killer was.

Emma was a cautious girl. The old neighborhood she lived in was chaotic, with addicts wandering around at night. Unless she was going to meet someone she trusted, she would never have left her home at that hour to go downstairs.

And among the group of five, Thomson happened to be the one she trusted the most. If Thomson had asked her to meet him, she would definitely have gone.

Because of this, Sophia grew suspicious.

With a sense of foreboding, she tremblingly opened The Book of Death. Before they parted that day, Thomson had wanted to take the book with him, but she firmly refused, and Edward also opposed the idea—so the book was still in her possession.

Sophia flipped past the first and second chapters, only to discover that the third chapter, “Emma,” had disappeared. What was originally the fourth chapter, “Edward,” had shifted forward to take its place as the third chapter.

Looking more closely, she found that the contents of her own chapter and Edward’s had not changed. Only the second chapter, “Thomson,” had undergone a complete transformation: the pancreatic cancer that was supposed to take his life within a year had miraculously vanished. Thomson would now live healthily until the age of 37—only to die in a traffic accident.

In the previous prophecy, Thomson had only one year left to live, while Emma was supposed to live to 36. But now, Thomson’s lifespan had suddenly extended to 37. The two were the same age—and the increase matched perfectly.

—It was Thomson who killed Emma!

“It has to be. That day, he kept staring at the title page—I already felt something was wrong. Look here, it says, ‘Life can be taken, but death is inevitable.’ He must have seen that line and realized he could steal someone else’s remaining lifespan by killing them!”

“So that’s how it works…”

At Sophia’s house, Edward took The Book of Death, read it for a while, then set it down, a dazed expression appearing on his face.

After discovering the change in the prophecy, Sophia hadn’t reported it to Rebecca right away. Instead, she called over Edward—the only person in their group of five she still trusted.

Her intention had been to share her discovery with him and persuade him to go to the police together, to report Thomson and bring the murderer to justice.

However, after hearing her plan, Edward declined apologetically, saying that his mother was waiting for him at home and needed his care, and that he would only have time the next day.

Four years ago, Edward’s mother had become a vegetable after a car accident. He came from a single-parent family. Normally, they hired a caregiver, but during holidays, to save money, Edward had to take care of his mother himself.

Hearing this, Sophia couldn’t force him, so she could only watch him leave and arrange for him to come again the next day.

The next day, Edward arrived as promised, his steps light and his mood noticeably cheerful.

“Did something good happen? Why are you in such a good mood?” Sophia asked casually as she closed the door.

The smile on Edward’s face stiffened. He shook his head, then somewhat awkwardly asked Sophia for The Book of Death.

“What do you want it for?”

“I want to see if Thomson has continued killing.”

That remark jolted Sophia. She immediately realized that if Emma’s life could be stolen, then the lives of the others could be as well. Given Thomson’s greedy nature, he wouldn’t be satisfied with merely stealing 18 years—so it made sense that, in the following days, he would go on a killing spree to take more lives.

With this thought, Sophia quickly grabbed The Book of Death, flipped to the second chapter, and read it at a glance.

“Great… his lifespan hasn’t changed. Looks like he hasn’t gotten to anyone else yet.”

“Let me see.” Edward, looking a bit impatient, snatched the book from Sophia’s hands.

Sophia froze, puzzled by his unusual behavior. But instead of reading the second chapter, “Thomson,” Edward flipped forward to his own third chapter.

“No… why hasn’t it changed?! How is this possible… I clearly—”

The further he read, the darker Edward’s expression grew. The relaxed, handsome face he had worn upon entering was replaced by a heavy, oppressive shadow.

“What are you talking about…”

What did he mean, “hasn’t changed”? What had he done that the prophecy should have shifted?

Hearing Edward’s muttering, Sophia paused and her face suddenly went pale.

She had realized a terrible possibility.

“You… you wouldn’t…”

Before she could finish, Edward’s cold, ruthless gaze locked onto Sophia. A sharp pain shot through her throat as a pair of icy, strong hands clamped tightly around her neck.

“Sophia… I’m sorry. I actually… liked you,” Edward murmured, lowering his head slightly, his voice eerily gentle near her ear. “But it seems… only by killing the people who appear in the book can one successfully steal their lives…”

The contrast with his gentle voice was the tightening grip of his fingers.

Sophia felt an immense force pressing down on her. She kicked futilely at the floor, her chest constricted as if it were about to burst. Soon her vision blurred, her breathing grew labored, and her consciousness began to slip quietly into darkness…

“Someone saw him coming this way!”

“Split up and search—he must be nearby…”

Suddenly, muffled voices came from behind a door. Moments later, Sophia’s front door was suddenly knocked on.

“Bang bang! Bang bang bang!”

“Is anyone home? Hello, this is the Micano City Police.”

Edward was, after all, still a high schooler. Hearing that the police had arrived, his guilty conscience panicked. Thinking they had discovered the crimes he had committed and were here to arrest him, he quickly released his grip, shoved Sophia aside, and bolted toward the back door.

“Cough… cough…”

The crushing force on her neck vanished suddenly. Sophia collapsed weakly to the floor, coughing painfully. It took her a long while to steady herself and painfully push herself up.

By this time, the area around the back door had become a chaotic mess.

Edward, who had fled from Sophia’s house; Thomson, who had come to “hunt” Sophia; and the police, who had arrived in response to a tip, all collided at the same spot.

Thomson had been fixated on Sophia’s “long lifespan” and had brought a gun, intending to kill her to steal her life. But the intended target hadn’t appeared yet—he encountered Edward first.

The police had already spotted him. He wasn’t guaranteed to break into Sophia’s house and take her life. In that case, stealing Edward’s lifespan first wouldn’t be a loss.

Without a word, Thomson raised his gun and fired a shot directly at his former friend’s chest.

Edward didn’t even have time to see who was attacking him. He widened his eyes, coughed up blood, and collapsed to the ground.

The police who arrived shortly after witnessed the scene and exchanged gunfire with Thomson for a while. In the end, Thomson ran out of bullets first and was hit in the arm and leg by the police. He was then captured.