She is a natural disaster.

Chapter 9 Walking with Death

At first, Mike didn't find anything.

Young Master Montague is a womanizer and never refuses any girl who comes to the bar.

He provided the money, and they provided the manpower. Everyone got what they needed, and the transaction was completed without any deception or unfairness.

Love is all-encompassing; it can even disregard boundaries and classifications, so why bother about longevity?

Therefore, when the young girl appeared tonight, Mike, who was already used to it, gladly accepted the girl's company and did not notice anything unusual.

It wasn't until Anastasia unusually approached him at the bar entrance and followed him into the carriage that the high-achieving graduate from the prestigious university remembered the details he had overlooked and noticed the strangeness about the girl.

The girl was quiet and taciturn.

She barely spoke all night, and when she did, her sentences were very brief.

Moreover, her voice sounded dry and hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken to anyone in a long time, or as if she hadn't drunk water in a long time.

The girl's reaction was also slow; she was always a step behind.

She remained expressionless and unresponsive for almost the entire night.

Like an exquisite puppet, it is beautiful but lacks any spirit, appearing lifeless and dull.

Also, the girl was very strong, which didn't match her delicate appearance.

She could easily lift a tall man and steadily help a drunk man out of the bar without blushing or panting.

Memories of the girl played on repeat in Mike's mind. He recalled not only the eerie details but also a detail that terrified him.

Mike reached out his arm in alarm, tentatively extending it towards the girl sitting opposite him. Perhaps out of fear, he pulled his arm back halfway through.

"It seems you've already figured it out," Anastasia said, her bent index finger still resting horizontally below her nose, as she opened the carriage window.

"Angel, what exactly do you mean? What do you mean by 'poor girl'?" Mike didn't dare to think about it too much and could only turn to the reference answers around him for help. He hoped that he was wrong.

"We've been talking about her ever since we got in the car, but she hasn't reacted at all," Anastasia turned to Mike. "Do you think this is normal?"

Even if a girl is taciturn and reserved, she shouldn't have no reaction at all; that's clearly abnormal.

Before boarding the carriage, Mike was half-sobered by Anastasia's unusual behavior.

Once on the carriage, Mike sobered up completely; cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his lips trembled slightly.

"Your brain must have been ruined by alcohol, or something else has taken over its function," Anastasia continued. "You sat next to her all night, didn't you notice anything wrong?"

The girl remained unresponsive, sitting opposite the two men as if nothing was happening around her.

"I—I…" Mike stammered, "Since you already knew, why didn't you tell me?"

Instead of blaming yourself, blame others.

"If I remind you, will you listen?" Anastasia retorted. "People can't teach people, but experience can teach people in one go."

"I'll listen! I'll listen..." Mike didn't even have the confidence to finish his sentence.

Anastasia seemed determined to play the villain, and she continued, "You must have touched her hand tonight, right?"

Of course I've touched it.

Mike isn't some innocent young boy. Anastasia wouldn't even bother asking a question about a man like him who's been through a lot.

"Didn't you notice how cold her hands were? Do you think that's a normal body temperature?" Anastasia continued, completely disregarding Mike's feelings.

Mike noticed, but he didn't think much of it at the time, assuming that the girl might not be feeling well, which was why her hands and feet were cold.

"And another thing, can't you smell something unusual in the carriage? It's one thing if you can't smell it in a bar, but you can't smell it in the carriage either?"

The air in the bar was anything but fresh; it was filled with the smell of smoke and sweat, and a strong perfume scent that Mike probably couldn't detect.

Sweating profusely, Mike slumped in his seat, his nostrils twitching as he sniffed the air in the carriage.

The overwhelming scent of the girl's perfume was so strong that it was impossible to shake it off. Underneath the perfume, there was also a strange smell, similar to rotten eggs.

"Huff—"

Mike began to gag violently.

The strange smell assaulted my senses, my stomach contracted violently, and I instinctively gagged.

"Remember this, it's the smell of a corpse, the smell of a dead person. If you smell a similar odor again, stay away from it."

Some things are better left unsaid; saying them out loud only makes things worse.

Mike had initially just been gagging instinctively, but now he was gagging even more violently, as if he wanted to throw up his entire stomach.

Humans have an ingrained physiological aversion to the smell of corpses. The smell of a corpse is tantamount to being threatened with death; it makes one want to vomit, and after vomiting, one wants to run away.

Fortunately, the carriage windows had been opened, which allowed the pungent smell inside the carriage to dissipate somewhat.

Anastasia took out a handkerchief with her right hand and covered her mouth and nose, while her left hand kept patting Mike's back to prevent him from choking on his vomit.

After a long while, Mike finally managed to suppress the warnings from his body and spoke breathlessly:

"There are so many strange things about her, but I didn't notice any of them. This isn't right... something must be wrong!"

Mike wasn't making excuses; he genuinely felt something was wrong. It wasn't the girl who had "come back to life" who was strange, but rather himself.

He continued, "The facts are right in front of me, but I still can't accept it. She was talking to me tonight, walking freely, running and jumping. Have you ever seen a dead person like this?"

"I've seen it," Anastasia said calmly. "Not only can it run and jump, but it can also scale walls and roofs. I'll show you sometime."

Mike waved his hands repeatedly, declining Anastasia's malicious intent.

"Is this what it means to be a transcendent being, manipulating corpses?" His voice trembled slightly, filled with fear and anger.

Fear stems from the supernatural abilities of the transcendent, and anger from the desecration of the dead.

"I told you last night that this city isn't as wonderful as you imagine; it's absolutely terrible," Anastasia said.

"You're right, my life has been too good." Mike chuckled self-deprecatingly, huddled in the corner of the carriage. "You tell me, did she die because of me?"

Mike, pale-faced, looked at Anastasia, wanting to hear a negative answer, even if it was a lie to deceive him.

"She's here because of you, but whether she died because of you, I'm not sure," Anastasia said, choosing not to tell a white lie.

Although Anastasia is a private investigator, she doesn't know anything about forensic medicine, but she can determine that the girl's time of death should have been before yesterday.

"You could have comforted me a little," Mike said softly. "Sometimes, a lie is a form of kindness."

"Are you a child, Mr. Montague?" Anastasia said coldly. "Wake up."

Despite his fear of the dead, Mike began to seriously observe the girl sitting opposite him for the first time, carefully examining the terrifying corpse.

She was really young, looking only eighteen or nineteen years old. She must have been the apple of her parents' eye when she was alive. She had a pretty face and was probably the dream girl or sweetheart of many young boys.

"If I survive tonight, I'll find her parents and take her home," Mike said.

Anastasia declined to comment.

"It's great that you've finally realized you're in danger."

With the girl who suddenly appeared beside him as if she had "come back to life," and Anastasia's warning to Rupert when they left the bar, Mike might as well find a rope and strangle himself if he still didn't realize the danger approaching.

"It might be a good thing if I die tonight," Mike said in a strange way, sounding like he was giving up on himself.

"That won't do. If you die, I won't get my payment." Anastasia glanced at Mike.

Mike didn't reply; he huddled in the corner of the carriage, his eyes vacant and blank.

Just then—

"Whoa!"

The horses neighed, and the carriage suddenly stopped.

Anastasia remained motionless; the inertia from the sudden stop of the carriage seemed to have no effect on her.

At the same time, Anastasia extended her left arm and stood in front of Mike, pressing him back into his seat as he was about to fall forward.

As for the girl's corpse sitting opposite them, Anastasia didn't want to care, and Mike couldn't care less.

The girl's body was first thrown into the carriage behind her due to inertia, then fell forward and landed on the opposite seat, and finally fell to the ground in the middle of the carriage.

"Watch out!" Rupert, who was driving the carriage, shouted a warning.

"Has it started?" Mike asked, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

Although Mike had just said those bizarre, almost self-destructive things, he still instinctively felt fear when danger struck.

"Don't worry, as long as I'm here, no one can hurt you, not a single person."

Anastasia spoke with great confidence, her tone carrying an air of domineering arrogance.

Mike looked at Anastasia; after all, she was still young, and her handsome face was filled with fear of death and panic at the attack.

"But you'd better not trust me too much," Anastasia continued. "If things don't work out, I'll most likely just abandon you and run away."

She was completely different before and after, as if she hadn't said those bold promises just now.

Suddenly, the carriage was plunged into darkness, an impenetrable darkness, so thick that even the bright streetlights on the street lost their light.

"I'm going out to kill someone. You stay here and don't move."

With that, Anastasia pushed open the carriage door, jumped off the carriage nimbly, and took the girl's body with her.