Dossiers Bizarres 2 - L'Étrange et le Réel

Chapitre 22

"Okay, thank you." I was about to go find him. The reason I didn't tell the police directly was that I wanted to find out about Rembrandt first.

Fortunately, Xinjingyuan is nearing the end of its operations, so even if Rembrandt has a problem, it won't have a major impact. The last patient died this morning, and all the cubicles on the basement floor are now empty. In just twenty days, hundreds of people have died here, each one dying a agonizing death. No one wants to stay in this basement anymore; even the most skeptical person feels a bone-chilling cold there.

The door was closed. Rembrandt usually left his temporary office door open or ajar when he was there. I turned the handle; it wasn't locked. He was inside.

When I pushed open the door and went in, Rembrandt was sitting in a chair with his head down. He didn't seem to be dozing off, but there was nothing there that caught his attention.

Hearing the noise, he slowly raised his head and looked at me.

"You were looking for me?" I asked. I felt there was something strange about him.

"Could you close the door?"

I was taken aback, but I did as instructed anyway.

"It's nothing, I just wanted to chat with you," he said.

Just a casual chat? I didn't believe it. What exactly did he want? I wondered to myself as I sat down across from him at his desk.

"Your interviews are almost done, aren't they? I've noticed you haven't been coming as frequently these past few days as you were at the beginning," Rembrandt said with a smile, seemingly joking.

"After all, the epidemic has been brought under control, and I think everyone should be able to breathe a sigh of relief."

"Relief? Not necessarily. There's a Chinese saying, 'The last leg of a journey is the hardest.' Who knows, there might be more infections later."

I glanced at Rembrandt; it seemed like there was a hidden meaning in his words.

"You've already given that photo to the Chinese police, right?"

I was slightly taken aback, but then I remembered the lie I told him when I asked him for a copy of the photo last time, and I quickly nodded in agreement.

Rembrandt gave an "Oh," and remained silent for a moment.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Did He Xi tell you why she showed this photo to that guy named Cheng Weiping?" Rembrandt asked slowly. He hesitated, as if he was pondering something.

A thought struck me: how could he remember Cheng Weiping's name so clearly? Was it a coincidence, or did he actually value it very much?

I made a decision instantly, looked Rembrandt straight in the eye, nodded and said, "She told me."

Rembrandt's pupils contracted slightly, and his gaze suddenly sharpened, as if a raging fire had suddenly ignited within them, burning my eyes.

I tried my best not to look away and just stared at him.

After a few seconds, Rembrandt let out a long sigh, his gaze softening. He seemed to have figured something out, and with a sense of relief, he even smiled at me.

“So you probably already know that Fan Zhe came to Shanghai before the incident. I foolishly lied to you before, and I apologize for that,” he said.

"Then, can you tell me why you said that?"

“When He Xi appeared in front of me three weeks ago, I knew why she had come. She loves Fan Zhe so much, and she has a strong personality. Once she has doubts in her heart, she will never let them go.”

"It seems you know much more about the inside story of Fan Zhe's incident than I thought."

Rembrandt simply laughed off any criticism he received.

"You really like her, don't you? I can tell."

I remained silent.

“You’re a smart man. I think you’ve already figured it out. He Xi is usually indifferent to men, so why is she treating you differently? It’s because you look a bit like Fan Zhe. She’s drawn to you because of your looks. In the beginning, didn’t you feel great? She was kinder to you than to me, her brother. She smiled at you more than she smiled at me. Did you think she liked you? That day I told you about her relationship with Fan Zhe. How was that? It was a real shock, wasn’t it? I could tell from your expression. Did you think you were ridiculous? Haha, haha…” Rembrandt said in a calm tone. Even when he couldn’t help but laugh at the end, his expression was strange, a mixture of madness and helplessness.

The muscles on my eyelids stiffened. I never expected Rembrandt to suddenly say something like that, and every word hit a nerve.

I stared at Rembrandt and said, "You like her."

Rembrandt's laughter stopped abruptly.

"You like He Xi too." I didn't use a question, but repeated it again with certainty.

He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but finally sighed, leaned back in his chair, and nodded in admission: "Yes, I like her."

"You like her, but she only sees you as a brother. She likes Fan Zhe, but Fan Zhe only sees her as a sister. Is that right?"

“Yes, you’re right. You’re even smarter than I thought.” Rembrandt nodded.

Does she know?

Rembrandt shook his head: "I always try my best to hide in front of her. I keep myself as far away as possible, hiding in a corner where she can't see me, watching silently. She only has eyes for Fan Zhe, I have no chance. I was too out of control just now, otherwise you wouldn't have guessed."

I looked at this rugged-looking man. In the orphanage, he would rush out and fight for He Xi until he was bruised and battered, yet when faced with his own feelings, he was too weak to confess. Humans are truly contradictory. Aren't I the same?

"Yes," I said with a smile, "I felt really bad after your attack, so I had to find something to retaliate. But... you're not usually an impulsive person, and you've always been very polite to me. What made you lose your temper like that just now?"

"When facing death, a person's emotions are always easily out of control. Please forgive me."

"What?" I exclaimed in surprise.

Rembrandt stood up, unzipped the protective suit, and took off the entire suit right in front of me.

What are you doing?

"Because it's no longer needed."

"No need? Does that mean it's been confirmed that no one else will be infected and the lockdown is about to be lifted?"

“Of course not,” Rembrandt said, looking at me. “You absolutely cannot take this outfit off unless you are willing to be carried by me.”

I was so startled that I stood up, causing the chair to tip over to the ground.

"What did you say? You've contracted the Fanovirus? How could that be?"

"Please keep your voice down, I don't want to bring anyone else in right now. Yes, I'm in a state of heightened excitement..." Rembrandt glanced at his watch, "It's been three hours and forty minutes."

I stared at him, speechless. Rembrandt had been diagnosed with Fan syndrome, and soon he would be the newest member of the Xin Jing Yuan death list. He was the medical expert sent by Heller International, He Xi's brother—good heavens!

"It was the last patient who passed it on to me. He was emotionally unstable and made a lot of movements. I didn't notice and he tore a small hole in his clothes," Rembrandt said calmly, as if he wasn't the one who was about to die.

I was stunned and couldn't accept this fact for a moment. After a long pause, I asked in a hoarse voice, "Is there...is there anyone else who knows?"

“No, you’re the first. Relax, it’s me who’s going to die, not you. Let’s not talk about that now, there are other things to do.” Rembrandt said calmly, looking much better than when I first walked in.

He suddenly told me he was going to die, and then said not to talk about it. What did he want to talk about? What could be more important than this?

"Alright, I don't have much time left anyway, so I'll get straight to the point. You're a very capable reporter, and I imagine you've helped He Xi a lot. You asked me for photos to reproduce; is it about that case you told me about last time, where the police found a witness?"

I never expected that the lie I made up on the spur of the moment would be so unexpectedly successful for Rembrandt.

I nodded.

"So... it's confirmed?" Rembrandt asked slowly.

"It's confirmed, it's Fan Zhe." Although the police haven't confirmed it yet, He Xi and I already know. Now that Rembrandt has said so, it's even more certain that he was involved!

Rembrandt shook his head and sighed, "It's all because of Van Zhe's damned curiosity. His pursuit of medicine led him to his doom, and in the end, he dragged me into it too."

I suppressed my many questions. Now that Rembrandt believed the police had gathered sufficient clues and that he was close to death, he was finally willing to talk. I shouldn't ask any unnecessary questions; I should just let him tell me.

"You already know about the dagger, don't you?" Rembrandt asked.

My heart skipped a beat, and I nodded.

"The Chinese police are really quick at following the clues," Rembrandt said with a wry smile.

“And Interpol,” I said, my heart pounding faster and faster.

Fan Zhe mentioned murdering someone during his confession, which couldn't possibly be...

"That explains it. I know Interpol has been watching the dagger for a long time. You must be wondering why people like me and Fan Zhe would be associated with them and provide the virus to those murderers, right?"

Rembrandt's words exploded in my ears like thunder. It was him and Fan Zhe who poisoned Cheng Weiping—no, not just Cheng Weiping, but many others as well.

Suddenly I remembered what He Xi once told me!

"When was the first time you did it?" I asked. My voice was distorted with nervousness.

Five years ago.

"Is it 2000? 2000!" I couldn't help but gape.

What did He Xi say to me on the first night? In 2000, an Irishman contracted Fandanemia for unknown reasons. In the past five years, there have been a total of 23 documented cases of Fandanemia!

"Are you saying that you were responsible for all twenty-three cases of Fan syndrome?" I stared at Rembrandt, my eyes filled with incomprehension and anger.

“Not entirely. We did some of it, and of course, every single one of our crimes was monitored by Heller International. Of course, that Irishman was a violent maniac, and his wife couldn’t stand it and wanted to take revenge on her husband in the most cruel way.” Rembrandt shrugged at me. “The Van densovirus is indeed a virus that mutates very easily. Even if we don’t cultivate it deliberately, it will eventually mutate into a variant that can kill people.”

"Why, why do they do this?" I asked through gritted teeth. They were simply playing with the lives of millions of people.

"First of all, we are short of money. Everyone likes money, but I can't pursue it, so I have to go out and indulge in debauchery. My father is very strict about money," Rembrandt said casually.

"FUCK!" I couldn't help but curse in English. This reminded me of Cheng Weiping's motives for killing his father. I never would have imagined that Rembrandt and Fan Zhe were such people, and He Xi probably wouldn't believe it either.

Rembrandt pressed his hand down, signaling me to control my anger: "Please don't get agitated. Nado, the two people who angered you are about to die. You can take it as karma."

“Given what you’ve done, nothing you’ve done is excessive,” I said bitterly.

"For me, money is the main reason, but the reason why I dragged Fan Zhe into this mess and why he's become like this is another reason. Don't you want to know?"

"What is it?" I asked, suppressing my anger.

"The Fan's virus variant that works on humans was discovered by Fan Zhe in a chance experiment. But he believed that one day, the Fan's virus would evolve into a virus that could be transmitted from person to person in nature, so before that happened, he hoped to find a treatment. Research in the lab is slow; human trials are the most effective. I wanted to do this, but out of brotherly affection, he couldn't dissuade me, so he simply joined in and turned this into a medical research project. That's why we always ask each other to provide detailed information about the deceased after they took the virus. Although it can't compare to firsthand observation, it's still very helpful."

It turns out that what Fan Zhe meant by the purpose of bringing light to mankind in his confession was this.

"Because he could share the research results of Heller International's specialized laboratory for studying the Fannybrook virus, coupled with the data from human experiments, his progress was much faster than that of the specialized laboratory. However, there was still a long way to go before a vaccine was developed, but some people with Fannybrook disease—I mean natural cases—had already appeared. At this time, we received a letter from Cheng Weiping. Fan Zhe was very excited to see the hope of curing Fannybrook disease and rushed to Shanghai immediately. Unfortunately, Cheng Gen had already been strangled to death by his son. As a second choice, he retrieved Cheng Gen's internal organs. But unexpectedly, the Fannybrook virus, which should have disappeared from Cheng Gen's body long ago, actually interacted with the virus that causes Heinz O.J. disease, mutating into a completely new virus. Calling it a mutation is no longer appropriate. This new virus was much more viable than the Fannybrook virus, and there were still remnants in the deceased's body, which resulted in it being transmitted to Fan Zhe. Thank goodness, no one else was infected by Fan Zhe. Its infectivity was not comparable to that of the Fannybrook virus; it seemed that it was difficult to get infected without direct contact with the infected internal organs."

"So that's how Fan Zhe got sick. Why didn't Cheng Gen get sick like him?"

“During the mutation process of the virus, he naturally produced antibodies. We tried to extract the antibodies from Cheng Gen’s organs, but it was of no use to Fan Zhe. Those antibodies have strong individual differences.”

"So what's going on here?"

“Here?” Rembrandt frowned. “Xinjingyuan has nothing to do with us. No murderer is crazy enough to kill everyone in the entire community. The Fan’s virus variant here evolved naturally. We were also surprised that a human-to-human variant appeared so quickly.”

"So you're saying the Virus Knight has nothing to do with you?"

"Virus Knight? What Virus Knight?" Rembrandt asked, puzzled.

I stared at him and felt that his expression was genuine.

"So, what is immortality?"

Rembrandt was stunned.

"Immortality?" he asked me hesitantly.

"Yes, Fan Zhe made a confession in a church in Shanghai, where he mentioned eternal life. He said that he committed these sins in order to live forever."