286-290

*Chapter 286: Spreading Red Stitches*

"Endo, what exactly were you doing yesterday? You didn’t come home until really late."

"Your family even called me looking for you. If I hadn’t reacted quickly, they might have figured something was off."

*Horikawa High School.*

As soon as he saw Endo, Shimada spoke up.

"Thanks for covering for me, Shimada."

Endo expressed his gratitude. Last night, he had stayed at school late trying to catch the person who had sent him the suicide note.

If it weren’t for Shimada making up an excuse, he might not have gotten away with it so easily.

"It was nothing, really. It’s not like this is the first time."

Shimada waved it off casually.

Then, looking curious, he pressed Endo for an explanation.

"That reminds me—you still haven’t told me why you got home so late yesterday."

"I was looking for something at school and lost track of time. By the time I realized it, the sun was already setting."

Endo didn’t reveal the real reason he had stayed behind. Instead, he made up a quick excuse.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No. I must have really lost it."

"Man, that’s some bad luck, Endo."

"Tell me about it."

As they talked, the two arrived at the shoe lockers.

"Looks like those letters were just a prank after all," Shimada remarked, glancing at Endo’s empty locker. "Whoever was sending them must’ve given up when they realized they weren’t having any effect."

"……"

Hearing Shimada’s words, Endo remained silent.

He simply reached for his shoulder bag.

Because he had already received the third letter.

---

"Where did these stitches even come from?"

*In the classroom.*

While the teacher was giving a lesson at the front of the class, Kojima was completely distracted.

All of his attention was fixated on the red stitches running across his wrist.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out how they had appeared without him noticing.

After all, stitches weren’t something that just showed up out of nowhere—especially ones that pierced through his skin. If someone had sewn them onto him while he was asleep, the pain alone should have woken him up.

And yet, Kojima didn’t feel any pain at all.

If his classmates hadn’t pointed them out, he probably still wouldn’t have noticed.

*"No matter how these stitches got here, the most important thing right now is getting rid of them."*

Because of them, Kojima had already been on the receiving end of several uneasy stares. It was clear that some people were making the wrong assumptions.

To avoid further misunderstandings, Kojima decided to cut them off.

With that in mind, he reached into his desk and pulled out a craft knife. Carefully, he positioned the blade over the stitches.

Holding the sharp edge so close to his wrist made him a little nervous. One wrong move, and he could seriously hurt himself.

*Snip. Snip.*

*"Why are these so tough?!"*

To his surprise—

Despite the craft knife’s sharp blade, the red stitches refused to cut. No matter how much pressure he applied, they wouldn’t budge.

It was as if the stitches weren’t made of thread, but something as strong as steel wire.

"Kojima, what are you doing?!"

Just as he was focused on trying to remove them, the teacher at the front of the room spotted him and immediately intervened.

The teacher’s face turned pale as he rushed over. Holding a knife to one’s wrist—even for a different reason—was a serious matter.

If anything happened, the teacher would be the one held responsible.

"It’s nothing, Sensei…"

As the teacher’s voice drew attention, nearly the entire class turned to look at Kojima.

Feeling the weight of their stares, he instinctively lowered the knife.

"It didn’t look like nothing. I just saw you pressing a blade against your wrist."

The teacher grabbed Kojima’s wrist and, upon seeing the red stitches, fell silent.

The sight of them made him hesitate to scold Kojima any further.

Because these weren’t just random doodles or a joke—this was something much more serious.

"...Sensei, it’s not what you think!"

Kojima immediately realized the misunderstanding.

"I don’t even know how these stitches got here! I can’t feel anything at all. I was just trying to remove them, but they won’t cut, so I—"

Noticing Kojima getting increasingly agitated, the teacher softened his tone and spoke gently.

"I understand, Kojima. I believe you. If you’re feeling unwell, let’s have you go to the infirmary and get checked out, okay?"

He then turned to another student.

"Akita, accompany Kojima to the infirmary."

The teacher wasn’t about to let Kojima go alone—not with how unsettling the situation was.

---

"Damn it. Now everyone thinks I tried to slit my wrists."

Walking toward the infirmary with his classmate, Kojima wore an ugly expression.

His attempt to remove the stitches had only made things worse.

But there was nothing he could say to clear up the misunderstanding.

After all, the stitches were real.

Even he couldn’t deny that.

---

"Hmm… Let me see. These stitches don’t look like they were done recently. If anything, they seem to have been here for quite some time…"

*In the infirmary.*

The school nurse studied Kojima’s wrist with a puzzled expression.

"But… last night, there was nothing there before I went to sleep."

"Hmm. That is strange."

"By the way, Sensei, I’ve been feeling kind of itchy since earlier…"

"Let me take a look."

At the nurse’s request, Kojima removed his shirt.

But the moment he did, the room fell into stunned silence.

Because scattered across his body were countless red stitches of varying lengths—

As if someone had pieced him together like a patchwork doll.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 287: Complete*

Horikawa High School.

In the old art clubroom of the abandoned school building, Inoue glanced at the aging facilities around him. Then, he turned his head toward Tanaka, who had been unusually quiet since they met earlier in the day, and couldn’t help but ask:

“Speaking of which, Mr. Tanaka, I heard this old school building is going to be demolished soon. In fact, it seems like only the art club is still using it due to space limitations. Most of the other classrooms were abandoned long ago because the facilities were too outdated.”

“I heard this building has been around for over thirty years. It wasn’t phased out until the fifteenth year of the Heisei era. The alumni who held a reunion last year actually attended classes here…”

“……”

Tanaka remained silent as he listened to Inoue’s words.

Throwing aside the bag of plaster in his hand, Tanaka reached out to lift the bucket in front of him.

“Here, let me help—”

Seeing this, Inoue quickly got up to assist. A bucket filled with water and plaster weighed several dozen pounds, and usually, he and Tanaka would carry it together.

However, before Inoue could get close, Tanaka had already lifted the heavy bucket effortlessly.

Inoue froze in place, momentarily stunned.

He hadn’t expected Mr. Tanaka to be so strong.

After all, he had struggled even with moving a plaster bust before.

“Inoue, do you think a headless statue is incomplete or whole?”

Pouring the plaster into the prepared mold, Tanaka turned to Inoue and suddenly asked an odd question.

“What do you mean, Mr. Tanaka?”

Inoue, distracted from his previous thoughts about Tanaka’s strength, looked at him in surprise.

“Didn’t you once say that a headless statue is the pinnacle of art? That the head is an unnecessary presence?”

“The head is an unnecessary presence.”

Hearing Inoue’s response, Tanaka seemed to fall into deep contemplation.

He stood still, staring at the numerous headless plaster statues surrounding them. Under his mask, he murmured to himself:

“...But without a head, how can it be complete?”

Gradually, Tanaka’s murmuring quieted.

Then, he turned to look at Inoue. Behind his glasses, his eyes were vacant, as if he were both asking a question and providing an answer:

“Inoue, do you want to be complete?”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Tanaka?!”

Tanaka’s increasingly bizarre behavior sent a wave of unease through Inoue.

He instinctively took a step closer to the wooden door of the art clubroom before responding, “I’ve always been complete.”

“No, you’re not, Inoue…”

Tanaka took a step forward, his footfalls echoing heavily on the creaky wooden floor.

It was only then that Inoue noticed—Tanaka’s footsteps were much heavier than usual, as if he were dragging something weighty.

Reaching out with both hands, Tanaka continued to murmur under his breath, “You haven’t reached your perfect form yet. Your body doesn’t match your head. Let me help you find the body that truly suits you. Then, you’ll be like me—perfect…”

As he spoke, Tanaka lifted his pale hands and slowly removed his mask.

Revealing a bloodstained, deathly pale face.

“Mr. Tanaka, your mouth—!”

Seeing the blood at the corners of Tanaka’s lips, Inoue’s expression turned to one of sheer terror.

Yet, Tanaka remained emotionless. He slightly opened his mouth, but his lips did not move as he spoke. His voice continued, eerie and unwavering:

“This is just a small price to pay for becoming complete. If you endure a little, you’ll be just like me, Inoue…”

Something was very, very wrong.

Seeing Tanaka approach, Inoue had no intention of staying to find out more. He turned sharply and bolted toward the wooden door.

*Click. Click.*

“When did that happen…?”

In the next instant, Inoue realized with horror that at some point, the door to the art clubroom had been locked.

“No… no…”

Behind him, Tanaka continued to advance step by step, his eerie voice murmuring softly:

“Don’t resist, Inoue. I’ll find the perfect body for you. You’ll thank me for everything I’ve done.”

Inoue’s heart pounded.

Something was very, very wrong with Mr. Tanaka.

“What happened to you, Mr. Tanaka?! What’s going on?”

Giving up on the locked door, Inoue grabbed a mop from the corner of the room, gripping it tightly as he shouted, “Help! Somebody, please help me!”

His cries for help made Tanaka move faster.

With a slight twist of his body, he lunged toward Inoue in the corner.

His slightly open mouth continued its eerie, monotonous chant:

“There’s nothing wrong with me. In fact, I’ve never felt better. I don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I have finally become truly complete.”

“Now… let me help you become just like me, Inoue.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tanaka!”

As Tanaka lunged, Inoue gritted his teeth and swung the mop with all his strength—slamming it directly at Tanaka’s head.

Though he had no idea what had caused Tanaka’s sudden madness, something in his gut told him that Tanaka’s idea of "completion" was anything but good.

*Thud!*

The wooden handle of the mop struck Tanaka’s head with a dull sound.

But in the very next moment—

Tanaka’s head twisted around *180 degrees*, completely reversing direction.

His body, momentarily disoriented without a proper field of vision, stopped moving. Slowly, he lifted his hands and manually *turned his head back* into place. Then, his vacant eyes locked onto Inoue once more.

Seeing this impossible, horrifying sight, all the strength drained from Inoue’s body.

He collapsed onto the floor, scrambling backward into the corner, his breath shallow and uneven.

*(End of Chapter)*

Chapter 288: Shattered

“…Inoue... Inoue…”

As he straightened his head, Inoue swung his mop, accidentally knocking Tanaka’s glasses off his face. Without the lenses to obscure them, Tanaka’s dull, murky eyes were now fully exposed. Bloodshot and lifeless, they held no trace of vitality.

“Ah! No, no! Stay away!”

Everything happening before him had already exceeded Inoue’s ability to process.

Curled up in the corner, he let out a desperate, broken scream.

Inside the old school building, Tanaka slightly opened his mouth, moaning softly, while stretching out his arms and inching toward Inoue.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

“Is anyone in there?!”

Just as Tanaka’s pale hand was about to touch Inoue’s head—

A series of urgent knocks suddenly came from outside the art department.

“…”

The moment he heard the sound, a spark of hope ignited in Inoue’s despair-filled eyes. Summoning all his strength, he ducked his head, clenched his teeth, and forced himself past Tanaka. He shouted toward whoever was outside.

“Help! I’m in here! Please, help me!”

“There really is someone inside!”

“I told you! I wasn’t imagining it—someone is calling for help!”

Hearing Inoue’s cries, the students outside the wooden door exchanged uneasy glances, instantly realizing the seriousness of the situation.

“Hang on! We’re coming to get you!”

One of them shouted to Inoue before the group braced themselves, counted down—*one, two, three*—and then rammed into the locked wooden door with all their might.

*Thud! Thud!*

*Crash!—*

Due to the building’s old and worn-down condition, the door wasn’t as sturdy as expected.

With the combined force of several male students, it took barely any effort to break it open.

“Watch out!”

Caught off guard, the ones who had exerted the most strength stumbled forward, collapsing onto the art room’s floor.

As they looked up, they immediately saw Tanaka—his arms outstretched, face contorted in a grotesque expression—as he lunged toward Inoue.

Even though they had no idea what was happening inside the old school building, the braver students gritted their teeth and charged forward to intercept him.

“So… hard?!”

As they tried to restrain Tanaka, they all had the same thought: His body is unnaturally rigid.

Now at an even closer distance, they could clearly see Tanaka’s twisted, vacant face. Despite being held back, his lifeless eyes remained locked onto Inoue, and his mouth continued to murmur in a chilling monotone:

“Don’t resist… Inoue… I’m doing all of this for you… to make you complete…”

As Tanaka spoke, his body dragged the students along with him, steadily moving toward Inoue.

*Rip. Rip.—*

Even with their combined effort, Tanaka continued to advance.

Fear flashed across the students’ faces as they clutched at his clothes. With a series of tearing sounds, Tanaka’s clothes shredded apart—revealing beneath them a stark white, plaster-like body.

“Move! Let me handle this!”

Seeing that Tanaka was getting dangerously close to Inoue, one student gritted his teeth, grabbed a chair from the art room, and shouted to the others. He then swung it down with all his strength, aiming straight for Tanaka’s body.

*Crash!*

The chair struck him with a sound more akin to stone colliding with stone.

Under the forceful blow, Tanaka lost his balance and crashed heavily onto the floor. The next moment, his body, still tightly wrapped in shreds of clothing, twisted and shattered into multiple fragments.

*Rattle—*

His head, once attached to his neck, rolled across the floor before coming to a stop at Inoue’s feet—his mouth agape, lifeless eyes staring blankly upward.

---

*“Attention all students, attention all students…”*

*“Per an emergency decision by the school board, all afternoon classes are canceled. All students must leave the campus immediately and go straight home.”*

*“What’s going on?”*

At Horikawa High School, the announcement broadcasted across campus sparked a wave of chatter and confusion.

Shimada glanced at his classmates, all displaying various expressions of curiosity and concern, his own face filled with uncertainty.

This is already the second time this month that Horikawa High has suddenly announced an emergency dismissal.

The last time it happened, it was due to a student’s death.

“Since they made a school-wide announcement…”

Even the teachers seemed caught off guard by the abrupt decision.

Setting down his chalk, the teacher glanced around the classroom and addressed the students:

“That concludes today’s lesson. Pack your things and go home as instructed in the announcement. Do not linger in school or on the streets for too long.”

For most students, an unexpected early dismissal was hardly a bad thing.

The moment the teacher finished speaking, they eagerly began packing up their belongings.

However, while those around him were excited, Endo’s expression darkened. This sudden closure had completely disrupted his plans.

He had intended to stay late today and track down the person who had sent him that suicide note.

But now, with everyone being forced to leave early, he had no excuse to remain on campus.

What should I do?

Frowning deeply, Endo packed up his things with a heavy heart.

Distracted, he followed the crowd out of the classroom.

“…Endo. Endo.”

Lost in thought, he barely registered Shimada’s voice calling him.

“Hm? What?”

Startled back to reality, Endo turned toward Shimada with a puzzled expression.

Shimada pointed toward the school entrance.

There, several police cars were parked.

“This is probably why they suddenly canceled classes.”

Following Shimada’s gaze, Endo quickly noticed the officers standing guard in front of the old school building. Nearby, groups of students had gathered, whispering among themselves.

“This is the third time this month that the police have shown up at our school. Every time they do, something strange happens… First, they dug up a corpse from the time capsule. Then, those bullies died in their own homes. I wonder what happened this time…”

---

*(End of Chapter)*

Chapter 289: A Bizarre Case

"Endo, let's go see what's happening over there."

Peering over the crowd gathered in front of the old school building, Shimada's face was filled with curiosity. Without hesitation, he grabbed Endo’s sleeve and started walking toward the commotion.

Endo, allowing himself to be pulled along, showed no resistance. In fact, he was more than happy to linger at school a little longer.

"What’s going on?"

Pushing into the crowd, Shimada glanced at the serious-faced police officers standing at the entrance of the old school building and asked a nearby classmate.

"I heard a teacher was found dead in the art room."

"What?!"

Even though Shimada had a bad feeling about this, he couldn’t help but be shocked by the response.

"…It was Mr. Tanaka, the art teacher. Some students heard cries for help coming from the old school building, but by the time they got there, Mr. Tanaka was already dead. His head had even been severed… The students who saw it were completely terrified."

"Beheaded…?"

Shimada swallowed hard and exchanged glances with Endo. He could see the same shock in his friend’s eyes.

Beheading was an unusually brutal method, even for a murder case.

"…Mr. Tanaka had been working tirelessly in the art room for his upcoming exhibition. Who would have thought he’d meet such a gruesome fate?"

"Who could have done this? Cutting off someone’s head… That’s beyond cruel."

Nearby, several teachers stood with somber expressions, tinged with fear.

"It must have been some kind of deranged killer. They say Mr. Tanaka’s severed head was found placed atop one of his plaster sculptures."

---

"Sir, we’ve found the murder weapon."

Inside the old school building, officers from the Kyoto Metropolitan Police Department surveyed the crime scene with grim expressions.

The case was too strange—so much so that the department hesitated to reveal the full truth to the public. Only a select few among the senior staff at Horikawa High School knew the real cause of Mr. Tanaka’s death.

To the outside world, the official statement from the police was that Mr. Tanaka had been murdered by an intruder in the art room.

Detective Yamamoto glanced at the sharp cleaver his colleagues had discovered, then turned to observe the crime scene inside the art room.

Although the victim’s body and severed head had already been removed from the school, and even the shattered plaster statue had been collected as evidence, the bloodstains on the floor and the eerie, headless statues standing around the room gave Yamamoto an unsettling feeling.

"A murder committed by statues…"

Suppressing his discomfort, Yamamoto scanned the statues again before muttering to himself, "Could it be that the students at the scene were the real killers? Did they frame the statues to cover up their crime by blaming it on the supernatural?"

Some officers from the Kyoto Metropolitan Police remained skeptical about the so-called 'statue murder' that had taken place in the old school building.

After all, the only witnesses were the students who reported the crime.

No one else, including the responding officers, had seen the statues move or attack.

Relying solely on student testimonies was not enough to conclude that the statues were responsible. On the contrary, the students themselves had more plausible motives for the murder.

"Before, I wouldn’t have believed in something as absurd as statues committing murder. But after…"

Yamamoto's expression was conflicted.

The Watanabe Keiko case had shattered everything he once believed in.

If vengeful spirits existed—ones that could use phone calls to exact revenge on bullies—then a case where statues came to life and killed didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

"Besides, out of all the students present at the crime scene, only Inoue had a known connection with the victim, Mr. Tanaka. The others didn’t even know Tanaka or each other that well. Why would they lie for Inoue?"

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"According to the students' statements, when they broke through the wooden door of the art room, Mr. Tanaka was still moving. They even had physical contact with him during the struggle…"

"In any case, until we uncover the truth, we can’t rule out the possibility that the statues really did kill him."

"Besides… Don’t you find these statues unsettling? Just looking at them sends shivers down my spine…"

---

Because of his health, Kojima had left school early and was unaware of what had happened.

Following the school nurse’s advice, he went to a dermatology clinic near the school.

Dermatology Clinic

"This… looks like it appeared directly on your skin…"

The doctor leaned in, examining the red stitch-like marks on Kojima’s body with a puzzled expression.

"But at the same time, the vivid red color makes it look as if it were stitched on."

"But doctor, these red lines weren’t on my body before yesterday. If someone had actually sewn them into my skin, there should be wounds, but I don’t feel much pain at all."

"That is indeed odd."

Shaking his head, the doctor picked up a pair of forceps and carefully tried to cut one of the red threads. However, his frown deepened.

"If these were stitches, the forceps should easily snip through them. But they won’t budge… It's as if they aren't real threads at all."

Initially, the doctor had assumed they were normal sutures, but to his surprise, they were far tougher than expected.

After several unsuccessful attempts to remove them, he sighed, unable to determine what these red lines actually were.

"If, as you say, this isn’t something artificially done to you, then my best guess is that it’s a rare and unknown skin condition. Some kind of abnormal keratinization reaction, perhaps due to an allergic reaction or some other unknown trigger, causing your skin to form these thread-like structures…"

"I’ll have to do some further research to be sure. For now, all I can do is prescribe a common skin treatment ointment. Try applying it and see if it helps alleviate the condition."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 290: The Reporter

"See you tomorrow, Endo."

At the fork in the road, Shimada waved at his friend.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

Endo nodded, watching Shimada walk away. After a brief moment of silence, he turned and headed toward the school.

He had a strong feeling that the person who secretly sent him a suicide note would definitely appear again.

This time, he wouldn't let them escape.

Back at school, many students, like Endo, had not yet left due to the time.

"The police still haven’t left?"

His gaze swept past the patrol cars still parked in front of the school gate, and his eyes flickered.

To be honest, even Endo felt somewhat uneasy about the gruesome murder case that had taken place at school. If it weren’t for his lingering concern over the person who sent him that suicide note, he probably wouldn’t have returned in such circumstances.

"Hmm?"

As he pondered, Endo retracted his gaze but inadvertently noticed a shadowy figure lurking in a nearby corner, not far from the school.

The person's behavior seemed suspicious, but they were clearly not the person he was looking for.

Endo simply noted it with mild curiosity before suppressing his thoughts. Avoiding the guards at the school gate, he snuck back inside.

"Huuh..."

Taking a deep breath, Endo glanced back at the school guards before tightening his grip on his bag. He then quickly made his way into the school building.

Having learned from yesterday’s experience, he didn’t bother taking off his shoes this time.

Hiding at the corner of the hallway, he held his breath and patiently waited for his target to appear.

---

Meanwhile, inside the old school building, in the art room…

"If I had the choice, I’d rather this case be a straightforward murder than something involving… other entities," Yamamoto muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "It’d be easier to explain to the public when we release our findings. Instead, we’re stuck dealing with this mess..."

Given Japan’s deeply ingrained bureaucratic culture, officials typically preferred to cover up issues rather than disclose them. The same applied to the case of Keiko in the time capsule.

Although the Kyoto Prefectural Police reported the incident to the cabinet immediately after its discovery, as expected, the directive from police headquarters was to prevent any leaks at all costs.

Even though, by the time the order arrived, it was already too late.

The urban legend of Watanabe Keiko had spread throughout Horikawa High School.

Still, police headquarters remained unwavering.

Or rather, even if they had alternative measures in mind, they would have to wait for the Kyoto police to complete their assessment first.

This approach was perfectly in line with traditional Japanese bureaucracy.

"If the public finds out that the deaths at Horikawa High School are linked to supernatural forces, the media will go into a frenzy. The pressure on us officers will be immense, and we might even have to bow and apologize on national television," someone commented.

"At our rank, we wouldn’t be the ones on TV apologizing. That’d be Chief Nakamori or someone higher up in the prefectural police," another officer replied.

"Besides, as long as we don’t say anything, who’s going to know the truth?"

Yamamoto shook his head. He didn’t believe the public had any real desire to know the full story.

After finishing the cleanup at the crime scene, he stretched his stiff neck and took one last glance at the motionless statues in the art room before turning to leave.

---

As Yamamoto and his team exited the old school building, the officers stationed at the entrance secured the door with a rope and hung a "No Entry" sign.

Until the investigation was complete, the entire building would remain off-limits.

The administration at Horikawa High School had little objection.

After all, the old school building had been abandoned for years. Aside from the late Mr. Tanaka, who still occasionally used it, no other teachers had stepped foot inside in a long time.

What the administration was more concerned about was when this case would be resolved.

Frequent incidents like this were not good for the school's reputation.

"For now, we can't say for certain," Yamamoto replied. "But we’ll notify the school as soon as we have conclusive results."

"I hope the police can wrap up the investigation quickly," the administrator responded.

After exchanging a few more words, Yamamoto and his team headed toward their car, ready to leave.

"Wait a moment, officer!"

Just then, a figure who had been hiding in the shadows suddenly rushed forward.

"I'm Takayama from Kyodo News! I’d like to ask you a few questions!"

Flashing his press credentials, the man who identified himself as a Kyodo News reporter looked at Yamamoto expectantly, eager to fire off his questions.

Yamamoto blinked in surprise.

As an ordinary officer in the Kyoto Prefectural Police, he rarely dealt with reporters.

"As far as I know, Horikawa High School has seen multiple mysterious deaths—starting with students and now even a teacher. Officer, can you tell me the truth behind all of this?"

For a moment, Yamamoto was at a loss.

However, his training quickly kicked in. Regaining his composure, he shook his head and gave the standard response:

"Sorry, no comment."

Takayama, however, was undeterred.

"But according to my sources, all the deaths at Horikawa High School share eerie connections. The manner of death in each case is highly unusual. More importantly, just a few days ago, during a class reunion, a twenty-year-old corpse was discovered inside a time capsule. Doesn’t this suggest that these deaths are anything but ordinary?"

The Watanabe Keiko case was the key to everything.

And it was also the hardest one to keep under wraps.

Too many people had attended that reunion, making it impossible for the police to prevent leaks despite their best efforts.

Now, this Kyodo News reporter had clearly caught wind of the story and was here to dig deeper.

(End of Chapter)