I suddenly felt a sense of relief from surviving a disaster.

　　I let out a sigh of relief.

　　The police finally came.

　　Tears welled up in my eyes.

　　Trembling, I replied with the location using my fingers.

　　I typed a few words, then deleted them.

　　The various things that just happened heightened my vigilance.

　　Would it really take so long for the police to respond? And I didn't hear the sound of sirens either.

　　But based on these two points alone, I couldn't jump to conclusions.

　　I held my phone tightly and thought for a while before sending a text message to the police myself.

　　[Where are you?] Another message from the deliveryman came.

　　I ignored him.

　　Suddenly, a complaint handling result from a certain group popped up in the message log.

　　I quickly glanced at it and clicked into the snail noodle shop again.

　　One piece of information caught my attention.

　　This shop has a booming business and is a popular internet celebrity restaurant, but it is small in scale and has no employees, only the owner operating it alone.

　　Many people come here out of admiration.

　　In the review section, there are several group photos with the owner.

　　The shopkeeper is a woman.

　　A middle-aged woman in her fifties.

　　But the people I saw several times seemed like men.

　　I furrowed my brow, lost in thought.

　　I took out the chat records between the shopkeeper and me and examined them carefully.

　　I also carefully looked at the ones with the deliveryman.

　　It didn't take long for me to discover a clue.

　　Each person has their own typing habits and language style.

　　For example, the deliveryman doesn't like to use punctuation marks and keeps using spaces as pauses.

　　The shopkeeper and I both like to use complete punctuation.

　　The threatening messages the shopkeeper sent me were all punctuated by spaces.

　　The strange messages I received from the neighbor, which had no punctuation at all, also used spaces as pauses.

　　Moreover, at the beginning, only the deliveryman cared about the negative reviews, while the shopkeeper seemed indifferent.

　　The shopkeeper's business is very good, and he has made a lot of money in recent years.

　　Would he really kill someone and ruin his own future over a negative review? There is only one possibility left...

　　I was shocked and scared at the same time.

　　Along with a sense of relief.

　　Fortunately, I didn't tell him my location.

　　Seeing that I hadn't replied for a long time, the deliveryman kept sending messages, asking if I had encountered any danger.

　　The last message took a sudden turn in tone.

　　"You found it" "It's okay if you found it" "I'm coming to find you" The phone started vibrating.

　　This time it wasn't a message, it was a phone call.

　　The phone vibrated violently and I was nervous, and I accidentally dropped it.

　　I now hate myself for not setting it on silent.

　　I quickly crawled over to pick up the phone.

　　I was about to hang up the call, but it hung up by itself.

　　Then came a text message.

　　"I know where you are" "I'm coming to find you" I was scared, my heart tightened.

　　I couldn't stay here.

　　I came out of the closet.

　　As soon as I took a few steps, my ankle suddenly grabbed a pair of icy hands.

　　"Haha, I fooled you" "Now I know where you are~" "I found you~" The rider hid under the bed, grabbing onto my ankle, revealing a terrifying smile.