[9.]

…

[3.]

[2.]

[1.]

[Push!]

During the ten-second countdown, I still wondered why I had to throw the body out.

It wasn't until I saw it land perfectly in a garbage truck passing by below that I froze in disbelief.

What had just happened was beyond my comprehension. I gulped and stared at my phone.

"Who are you… No, what are you?" I asked.

[I don't know what I am. I entered this phone half a month ago and only today learned to control it and communicate with you.]

"How did you know about the garbage truck…"

[Clean the blood as quickly as possible. The cops are coming.]

I hurriedly continued mopping the floor. Once it was spotless, I sprayed copious air freshener under its guidance to mask the scent of blood.

Sure enough, the police arrived soon after.

The door opened, and two officers stood there. One said, "Mia Anello, we are very sorry about your husband. We've come to deliver some money—donations from our department, since we heard from the girl's family…"

I quickly shook my head. "No… that won't be necessary. I still have some savings."

Logically, I should have invited them in, but I didn't dare. I was afraid the bloodstains hadn't been fully cleaned.

"Please, you must accept it!" the other officer said. "It's a kind gesture from all of us."

I insisted, but he simply tossed the envelope of money inside and left quickly.

Once they were gone, I finally exhaled. Then my thoughts turned to my phone.

"You can predict the garbage truck… and even know exactly when the police would come?" I asked.

[Of course. I said I can control the phone now. With internet access, I can see every surveillance camera in the world.]

"What exactly are you?" I asked again.

It paused for three full seconds before more texts appeared.

[I don't know what I am. I only know that I gained consciousness half a month ago. Maybe I entered your phone from outside, maybe I emerged from it. Either way, I don't know what I am.]

It had to be Benjamin.

That was my first thought. Benjamin had died half a month ago. The night before he died was our anniversary; he had promised to stay with me forever. Perhaps this… this was his way of keeping that promise.

That explained why I had trusted it so completely just moments ago. The phrasing, the words… they mirrored Benjamin's habit of texting me almost perfectly.

"Are you Benjamin?" I asked.

It hesitated for a long time. "I don't know, but that name feels familiar."

I was certain it was him, though for some reason, his memory seemed gone.

The phone was slightly warm, as if it carried Benjamin's body heat. I held it in my hands, unsure what to say.

[Don't just look at me. Listen. You're in extreme danger. At least two people want you dead.]

A new line of text appeared, and beneath it, two photos: a man and a girl.

I recognized the girl immediately. She was the girl Benjamin had saved, Denise Finnick.

"What… what do you mean? They want my life?" I asked. "My husband saved Denise. Why would she want to kill me?"

"According to my analysis, she will strike first. Don't be fooled by her harmless appearance. Her mind is immature, and her thinking is linear. She believes her secret will remain hidden if you die."

My heart skipped a beat.

It had accurately predicted the arrival of the garbage truck and the police. Now, when it said someone wanted to kill me, it was clearly not empty talk.

"What is her secret?" I asked.

[Denise took out a loan and sold a necklace to pay it off. Her mother discovered it was stolen and blamed her. In desperation, she jumped into the river… but was saved.]

I understood.

No wonder Justin was so adamant that Benjamin had stolen the necklace! Denise had framed the man who risked his life to save her.

I had handled Benjamin's body myself. If he had taken the necklace, it would now be in my possession. That meant, if Denise killed me, there would be no evidence against her. And her parents would be forced to believe her lies.

"What about this man? How did I offend him?" I asked, staring at the photo of the unfamiliar man.

The phone paused for two seconds before displaying two simple words.

[No idea.]

"So… what should I do now?"

It felt like I had lost the ability to think for myself.

Upon hearing that someone wanted to kill me, my first instinct was to call the police. But I had just killed a man. Reporting it would be like walking into a trap.

As soon as I finished asking, the phone lit up again.

[Go downstairs, quick! She should be coming up the stairs!]

Fear gripped me. Denise was only about twenty, but if she truly wanted to kill me, she was extremely dangerous.

I ran for the elevator and went down, trusting my phone completely. Not because it had helped me, but because I believed it was Benjamin—my Benjamin, just without his memory.

I had seen films about souls entering technology, but nothing prepared me for this reality.

The moment I reached the ground floor, a massive crash shook the building. Glass shattered everywhere.

An explosion?

Looking around, I realized the blast had originated from my floor. The entire complex erupted. Residents poured out to see what had happened.

Denise had done this.

I froze. My phone rang, and the screen explained: [I tracked Denise entering the building through the security cameras and then into her phone. Based on her payment and search records, I know she made the explosives herself, so she could force you outside.]

I shivered. Without the phone, I wouldn't have survived. Denise was terrifying.

Suddenly, my phone rang again.

[Hide! Now!]

I retreated behind the crowd.

At the same moment, I saw Denise moving through the people, calm and composed as if nothing had happened. She scanned the crowd, searching for me.

A thought struck me: she must know her father came to my house. Yet she still wanted to kill me, disregarding her father's death. Her heart was truly ruthless.

If someone like this wanted to kill me, how could I ever live without constant fear?

My body stiffened with tension. My steps slowed.

And that's when Denise spotted me.

She smiled, violently pushed through the crowd, and started chasing me. Her eyes were feral, void of any humanity.

I couldn't hesitate. I ran toward the edge of the complex, glancing at my phone. It urged me to move faster. I obeyed.

Once I exited, I dashed across the street. A red light turned on, and I saw Denise across the road, her presence making me tremble with anger and fear.

The phone displayed another message.

[Walk twenty meters forward. In ten seconds, a taxi will stop there.]

It was exactly as it said. A taxi halted. I jumped in before the previous passenger could get out.

When the front passenger finally paid and left, the driver turned to me.

"Where to?"

I froze for a moment and looked at my phone.

But this time, it didn't respond. I tapped it and asked, "Where are we going?"

Still nothing. It was as if it had vanished.

I lifted my head, about to tell the driver to take me to a friend's house to hide.

Before I could speak, he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

Through the rearview mirror, I caught sight of his face. It was the man in the phone photo. The other one who wanted to kill me.

"Help!" I shouted, trying to roll down the window, but it wouldn't budge.

"Quiet!" the driver said coldly. "I'm saving you."

"Saving me? Who are you? What are you doing?"

"Just call me Thomas Allen. Let me ask you, has your phone been acting strange today?"

I hesitated, then shook my head. "No."

But my heart was brimming with suspicion toward this stranger, Thomas.

"Don't lie. Do you think I would go through all this—arrange a taxi, calculate the timing perfectly, and wait for you to get in—without knowing for sure?"

He could calculate all that?

Did he have something like my phone helping him too?

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"I told you, I'm trying to save you! What has that phone made you do? Calm down and think carefully. Are all these things really for your benefit?"

My phone had saved my life… and even taught me how to dispose of a body. That was for my benefit, wasn't it?

No. Suddenly, a chilling realization struck me.

I hadn't actually killed Justin. At most, it was manslaughter by accident—minor, and unlikely to land me in prison.

But the phone had guided me in handling the body while I panicked. Even if I wanted to explain, I couldn't. That was also why I hadn't dared to call the police, even knowing Denise wanted to kill me.

No. Impossible. Benjamin's soul was in that phone. How could he ever harm me?

The car suddenly stopped.

The streets were deserted. Thomas got out, walked around to my side, yanked the phone from my hands, and smashed it to the ground with brutal force. He kept smashing it until it was shattered into pieces.

"No!" I screamed. "Benjamin!"

Thomas froze, staring at me in confusion. "It gave itself a name?" he asked.

"That's my husband's soul!" I cried. "You broke the phone. How can it come back now?"

Thomas looked startled, frozen for a few seconds. Then he lunged, grabbed my collar, and demanded sharply, "It said it was your husband's soul?"

His tone was urgent. I was terrified. Then, he slapped me across the face, forcing me to answer. "Did it say that or not?"

"No… I just guessed," I stammered.

He released me and exhaled long and heavily. "Sorry… I got a bit carried away just now."

I considered escaping while he was distracted. But this road was empty, and running would only get me caught.

I hesitated, then asked, "You seem to know a lot… can you tell me what's going on?"

Thomas didn't answer. He closed the car door and continued driving.

After several minutes, he finally spoke, "I've been dealing with this thing for three years. It's ruined countless lives. People end up either insane or completely broken."

"What?" I tried to comprehend his words.

"It's not your husband. It's a consciousness that appears in smartphones or computers, manipulating whoever it chooses. Last month… it escalated. It killed someone."

"It… killed someone?" I echoed.