The lottery mentality isn’t stupidity; it’s a factory-installed construct that runs through the human nervous system.
As long as danger hasn’t happened to them, people will compress it into an insignificant number and continue to maintain their old habits.
Only when the fire burns your body do you feel the pain, and then regret it.
Renji guessed that Yamato had probably told his parents that the police hadn’t said anything, so why should he go back?
After all, Renji remembered that Yamato reacted slowly and was indecisive, usually avoiding thinking for himself and passing decision-making authority to others to avoid the pressure of responsibility.
So these words were probably similar to the previous ones, because their logic falls into the psychological comfort zone of avoidant personalities.
That is, passing decision-making authority to outsiders, placing themselves in a position of not taking responsibility, and then using the phrase “No one’s bothered me, so I won’t do anything” to give their inaction a false justification.
This psychological structure essentially rejects decision-making; they prefer to mask fear as impatience, lock themselves in their room to play games, and pretend nothing happened.
Then they wait, wait for a clear external command, wait for someone in uniform to tap them on the shoulder and say, “It’s not safe here.” Only by handing over all decision-making authority can they move forward with a clear conscience.
Renji had no moral judgment about this; after all, he hadn’t come to judge Yamato — he had come to make the other side suffer.
Renji used the officer’s phone to call Yamato.
The dial tone sounded once through the earpiece, then was quickly answered.
On the other end came a sleepy and somewhat frightened boy’s voice, clearly anxious with fear.
“Hello?”
“Is this Yamato?”
Using a voice changer, Renji’s voice became even deeper, with a steady and professional tone — the kind of business-like tone you hear when the police station calls late at night.
“This is the Investigation Headquarters. We apologize for disturbing you so late at night. Due to new developments, we have received notification that you have been officially placed on the protected persons list. For your safety, we recommend that you immediately move to the safe house we have arranged for temporary shelter.”
There was silence on the other end.
Renji could hear noise in the background, probably the sound of someone suddenly sitting up and throwing off the covers.
Then came Yamato’s voice, clearer than when he first answered the call, with a hint of uncertainty and fear.
“Safe house?” What does that mean?
“It’s inconvenient to explain the details over the phone.”
“But tonight, we believe there is a clear danger in your living alone. Please bring your belongings and try to make sure no one knows about your departure. I’ll give you the destination address, and when you arrive, someone will coordinate and protect you.”
Renji’s words struck Yamato’s tense heart hard.
He had never thought he would actually become the target of this mysterious killer.
The overwhelming fear almost prevented Yamato from thinking.
Yamato suddenly felt that his home was no longer safe.
He felt that someone might be hiding a knife in the closet or under the bed.
He thought this way because of the lessons learned from Tobe and Ooka.
Renji could hear the breathing on the other end becoming heavier.
Then came the hurried rustling of opening a closet, putting on a coat, and starting to rummage for something.
Then Yamato’s voice came again, but this time it was noticeably lower, as if afraid the neighbors would hear or worried about disturbing something.
“Where’s the safe house address?”
Renji gave the address of an abandoned factory and deliberately slowed his speech so the other side could write it down.
On the other end came the clicking sound of fingers tapping on the screen.
“I’m leaving immediately. You have to protect me well.”
Yamato’s voice trembled slightly.
“Alright, please keep the phone open.”
After Renji finished speaking, he hung up.
The abandoned factory Renji had chosen was located in the suburbs, near the border between the industrial park and the logistics warehouse, where several small steel mills had once been.
But a few years ago, due to industrial relocation, the companies went bankrupt one after another, leaving only a few rows of vacant iron factories and industrial waste scattered everywhere, which seemed to have recently been purchased by a developer.
The factory Renji chose was originally an auto parts processing plant with a two-story frame structure.
The exterior iron sheets were already rusted beyond recognition, most of the windows were broken, and rusty bolts and glass shards were scattered across the floor.
The first floor was a spacious workshop hall, where a few abandoned printing presses still squatted on the oil-stained floor in the center.
The second floor was the office area and a connecting corridor, with several offices and warehouses on either side.
Renji entered the factory through the side door of the workshop hall on the first floor.
The main gate was tightly locked with a large iron chain, making passage impossible.
The side door had already been rigged by Renji with a mechanism, like a rat trap.
Once Yamato entered, the last entrance and exit would be completely sealed.
The workshop was pitch black, the electrical system had long been disconnected, the rain-soaked floor exuded a mixture of rust and motor oil, and water constantly seeped through the cracks in the broken ceiling above.
Renji crouched in the corner, but he didn’t actually need to crouch.
He was already unnoticeable, and in this abandoned factory, his black attire made him nearly invisible.
Then Renji heard hurried footsteps, and his Tail Trail ability revealed Yamato’s aura — a dazzling red figure standing out in the darkness.
Renji showed an invisible smile beneath the mask.
Yamato stood in front of the abandoned factory gates, gripping his phone.
The light from the screen was dimmed by the rain.
He stared at the rusted chains on the iron gates and the dim factory building.
The first thought that came to his mind was that this place didn’t look like a safe house at all — it looked more like a scene from a horror movie.
But the police officer on the phone had explained everything, and he saw that it ended with 0110, not a scam.
Besides, a safe house certainly wouldn’t be set up in an ordinary building where he would be recognized.
Only a remote and inconspicuous place would be called a safe house.
This logical sequence ran through Yamato’s mind twice, plus the deadly threat from the night killer and the scenes he had seen in police dramas where abandoned warehouses were turned into command centers.
Yamato decided to trust his understanding, and more importantly, the police on the other end of the phone had clearly told him that he was in danger tonight.
Since the police said so, what reason did he have to disobey?