★Suspense master Cai Bigui (aka "Uncle Ghost"), a top influencer with 4.76 million Weibo followers, finally publishes his sensational work — once restricted and deleted on the "Tianya" forum for its explosive content — now thrilling six million fans!
★A series of bizarre and eerie stories, heart-stopping and addictive, each standalone yet interconnected, pointing toward the ultimate future of our lives.
★Acclaimed suspense writers Cai Jun, Zijin Chen, and Spider highly recommended: A unique blend of horror, mystery, sci-fi, and mind-bending twists!

I hunt targets — but I'm also the hunted.
The greatest shock? The one trying to kill me… is me.
If you're not a freak, you won’t encounter these strange events.
If you're not Uncle Ghost, you couldn’t imagine such madness.

The series includes 8 volumes:
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Basement Prison"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Taboo of the Snow Mountain"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Death Pending"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Island Dream"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Delusional Reality"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Assassination Loop"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Game Shadows"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Time Prisoner"

I (Ghost Uncle) inexplicably became the prime suspect in the murder of my girlfriend Tang Shuang’s father — Hong Kong tycoon Tang Jiafeng — and was forced into hiding. In Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, I encountered Interpol agent Liang Chaowei, who offered me shelter in exchange for assassinating a local drug lord, Ruan Dongfu. When I failed, someone mysteriously completed the job for me. Next, I was tasked with targeting elites in South Korea, Singapore, and beyond, gradually uncovering that these victims — like Tang Jiafeng — belonged to a shadowy organization...
Why did Liang Chaowei assign me these missions? Who actually killed these people, and why does all evidence point to me? What scheme are they executing? Soon, I became the hunted—and the one sent to kill me was... The unfathomable twists will leave you breathless!

Cai Bigui, born Cai Zeng, is a bestselling sci-fi and mystery novelist with six million followers online. Awarded "2019’s Top 10 Most Influential Book Reviewers."
Since 2009, his novels have sold over a million copies, including the "Long Game" series, "The Hyperbrain", the short story collection "BBQ Horror Tales", and the screenplay "Memory Reconstruction". "BBQ Horror Tales" won "Fifth Chinese Original Fiction Awards — Most Popular Short Story Collection," while "Memory Reconstruction" received the 2019 Golden Feather Award. A film adaptation of "BBQ Horror Tales" is currently in production.

Chapter 1　　 Forced on the Run 　　　　　　001
Chapter 2　　 The Whole Story 　　　　　　　022
Chapter 3　　 Surveillance Footage 　　　　042
Chapter 4　　 Operation Toppled Tower 　　059
Chapter 5　　 Special Training 　　　　　　073
Chapter 6　　 A Deadly Date 　　　　　　　088
Chapter 7　　 Assassinating Miu Xinghan 　109
Chapter 8　　 Xinghan’s Symphony 　　　　125
Chapter 9　　 Mariko Mihui 　　　　　　　　141
Chapter 10　　The Undersea Lab 　　　　　155
Chapter 11　　A Sudden Revelation 　　　　171
Chapter 12　　Time Travel 　　　　　　　　189
Chapter 13　　New Supernatural Ability 　　202
Chapter 14　　Terminate with Extreme Prejudice 218

Chapter 1
Forced on the Run

"Nervous?" Tang Shuang gently stroked the back of my hand on the pristine white tablecloth.
I straightened up, took a deep breath, and admitted, "A little."
Tang Shuang smiled reassuringly. "Relax. He’s actually very easygoing in private — no airs at all."
Her words made me chuckle. "That’s just with you, isn’t it?"
At that moment, Tang Shuang and I were seated in an opulent private dining room, waiting for a guest. This was one of Hong Kong’s most prestigious restaurants, a rare Michelin three-star Chinese establishment where reservations typically had to be made months in advance. But Tang Shuang wasn’t just anyone — not only did she secure a table without prior booking, but she’d also gotten us a VIP room with a stunning view of Victoria Harbour through the floor-to-ceiling window on my right.
The harbor’s nightscape was breathtaking, and the tea here was excellent. But none of that mattered when you were waiting for an important guest who still hadn’t shown up, even as the sky outside darkened from gray to black. Worse, with every passing minute, my nervousness didn’t fade — it grew.
I stared anxiously at the door. "Did he stand us up?"
Tang Shuang insisted he wouldn’t, but even she glanced at her wristwatch. It was only then, after a whole evening of tension, that I noticed she wasn’t wearing her usual Dufour Simplicity — a watch I recognized — but something unfamiliar. My knowledge of watches wasn’t as deep as hers, so I couldn’t identify the brand or model at a glance. All I could tell was that it was a distinctly masculine design, oversized and rugged, completely mismatched with Tang Shuang’s slender wrist.
Just as I was about to ask, the door swung open, and a tall, middle-aged man strode in with a booming voice. "Apologies for keeping you waiting!"
Tang Shuang stood immediately. I was still frozen in surprise until she tugged at my sleeve, prompting me to scramble to my feet. "We just got here ourselves", she said smoothly, and I hastily echoed her.
The waiter pulled out a chair, and the man sat down with casual ease, wiping his hands with a towel. True to Tang Shuang’s description, he was completely unpretentious. He grinned at her and asked, "Ordered yet?"
Tang Shuang nodded. "Everything’s arranged. And two bottles of red — I remembered you prefer Château Mouton Rothschild. Did I get that right?"
The man — Fifth Master — laughed heartily, pointing at her approvingly. "Well done, Shuang’er. You know me too well."
Then, as if finally noticing me, he asked, "And this is…? Your boyfriend?"
Tang Shuang leaned into me, looping her arm through mine. "Fiancé."
Three hours later, we escorted Fifth Master downstairs and turned back toward the hotel lobby. The restaurant was inside the Four Seasons, so stumbling back to our room after drinks was convenient.
In the elevator, Tang Shuang steadied me—I was more than a little tipsy — and teased, "You barely drank anything. How are you already drunk?"
I kept my head down, letting the alcohol mask my silence.
Tang Shuang tilted her head to study my face. After a few seconds, she asked, "What’s wrong? Are you upset?"
I forced a weak smile. "No, no. Why would I be?"
And really, what reason did I have to be upset? Thanks to Tang Shuang’s meticulous planning, I’d just met my childhood idol — Fifth Master, a legendary actor turned A-list director, a household name across Hong Kong and the mainland. More than just a dinner, this was the first step toward an unimaginable opportunity: adapting my online novels into a film, with Fifth Master himself at the helm!
Tang Shuang had even prepared a dossier of my work for him in advance, so during dinner, Fifth Master had actually discussed my stories with me, pointing out scenes that might not translate well to film.
My childhood idol, sharing a table, drinking, laughing — and talking about my amateurish writing! Of course, I also caught his subtext: Good as prose, but a tough adaptation. Still, the fact that he’d read my work at all was enough to keep me exhilarated for years.
The discussion about my novels lasted only ten minutes before shifting to high-society gossip and entertainment industry scandals. But my excitement lasted all night — until Tang Shuang, while pouring wine for Fifth Master, "accidentally" revealed the watch on her wrist.
Everyone in the industry knew Fifth Master was a serious watch collector, far more knowledgeable than me. He recognized it instantly. "Wow, an IWC? This model’s incredibly rare. Limited to 30 pieces worldwide, if I remember right?"
Tang Shuang shrugged dismissively. "Is it? I don’t know much about watches. Just saw it abroad and bought it on a whim."
Fifth Master’s eyes gleamed as he stared at it. "You’ve got incredible luck. This isn’t something money alone can buy!"
Seizing the moment, Tang Shuang slipped off the watch and handed it to him. "I had no idea it was so special. Since you’re here, why don’t you tell us what makes it so remarkable?"
She beckoned me over. "Come listen. A free lesson from an expert."
Frowning, I shot her a look but complied. What followed was inevitable. After Fifth Master finished gushing over the watch—and subtly lamenting its absence in his collection — Tang Shuang persuaded him to try it on, even convincing him to swap out his own Patek Philippe for it.
With exaggerated admiration, she said, "It suits you perfectly!"
Then she nudged me. "Bigui, don’t you think so?"
I nodded. "Absolutely."
I had to admit, the watch had looked awkward on Tang Shuang’s delicate wrist. But on Fifth Master’s tanned, hairy arm, it fit like it was made for him.
He spent several minutes admiring it, even snapping photos to show his collector friends. When he finally made a show of removing it, Tang Shuang insisted he keep it — claiming it was too masculine for her anyway and belonged on someone who truly appreciated it.
After the expected polite refusals, Fifth Master accepted the gift with delight, slipping his Patek into his pocket like an afterthought.
Then, as we raised our glasses again, Fifth Master circled back to my novels — this time with genuine enthusiasm. No more critiques. Instead, he mentioned a film producer friend who loved sci-fi and even tossed out casting ideas for a potential adaptation.
Clapping me on the shoulder, he boomed, "Unless you want to star in it yourself, Nephew!" Earlier, he’d called me "Mr. Cai".
As Tang Shuang refilled our glasses, I stared at her bare wrist and realized: That watch wasn’t a coincidence. Tonight was a calculated play.
And in that moment, a strange feeling settled over me.
"We’re here."
Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed we’d reached our room.
Tang Shuang fished out the key card. "Hold onto the wall. I’ll get the door."
I staggered inside, collapsing onto the bed without even kicking off my shoes.
She sat beside me, running a hand through my hair. "Really that drunk?"
I closed my eyes, pretending to doze — but the words slipped out anyway. "How much did that watch cost?"
Tang Shuang laughed. "What, planning to pay me back?"
Maybe it was the alcohol, but I couldn’t stop myself. "Just tell me. How much?"
Silence. When I opened my eyes, she was looking down at me with an almost grandmotherly smile, gently patting my head. "Don’t be childish. You’re too old for this."
My pride flared. I pushed myself upright. "This isn’t about being childish! You just gave Fifth Master a watch — a rare one — to help me. I should at least repay —"
Tang Shuang cut me off, amused. "Still denying it? Since when do we keep score, you and I?"
I scratched my head in frustration. "It’s not about keeping score! It’s about me, as a man, not relying on a woman’s money!"
She shook her head. "Man or woman, we’re equal partners. We help each other. You…" She tapped my nose lightly. "Such a toxic male."
I knew she was teasing, trying to lighten the mood. But it still stung. The whole evening — her meticulous planning, her manipulations, the way she’d orchestrated everything without consulting me — reminded me of another woman I’d once known. A terrifying one.
Tang Shuang’s voice pulled me back. Cupping my face, she said seriously, "Besides, I didn’t just do this for you."
I didn’t argue. She was right. Adapting my novels wasn’t just about me — it was about us. More specifically, our impending marriage.
Months earlier, while I was tangled in the "Quantum Ghost" incident, Tang Shuang had been fighting her own battle: a corporate coup led by her playboy brother, Tang Dan, who’d been goaded by the board into challenging her control of the family empire.
If Tang Dan succeeded, Tangson Group would be bankrupt within five years. But Tang Shuang — the company’s de facto leader and their father’s chosen heir—wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d rallied support across global subsidiaries, securing the board’s backing.
Or so she’d thought.
Days before the vote, several directors defected to Tang Dan’s side. Desperate, Tang Shuang flew to Herupu Island in the Maldives, where she convinced her father — the retired founder — to return and quash the rebellion.
But there was a condition: She had to marry within a year. "Otherwise," her father had said, "your brother will keep trying — especially after I’m gone."
With her father’s help, the boardroom coup collapsed. Now, it was Tang Shuang’s turn to uphold her end of the bargain: finding a "suitable" husband.
And suitable was the key word.
Tang Shuang was a CEO, an heiress, stunningly beautiful, brilliant — practically a drama heroine. Meanwhile, I was a nobody: a small factory owner and a third-rate online novelist.
Even a blind man could see we were mismatched.
Unless, of course, my novels get adapted and became famous.
Hence tonight’s dinner — and the carefully "gifted" watch.
I understood her intentions: carefully arranged the dinner and got information on Fifth Maters watch collection, in order to "unintentionally" gift him with the watch he wants, all to help me become the "suitable" partner. But her secrecy, her control, left me unsettled.
With a sigh, I flopped back onto the bed. The air between us had turned stiff.
After a long silence, Tang Shuang stood. "Get some rest. Take a shower."
I rolled over. "You’re not staying?"
She shook her head. "I need to go back. Father’s waiting."
I sat up. "When’s he returning to Herupu?"
"Not sure. Maybe before the board meeting, maybe after." She paused. "He’s been bingeing on roast goose noodles — acting like it’s his last chance to eat. Terrible for his health…"
Abruptly, she changed the subject. "I’ll try to arrange a meeting before he leaves."
I forced a smile. "Don’t push it."
She hesitated, then said simply, "I’m going."
I didn’t stop her. "Be careful."
She kissed my cheek and left. Watching her walk away, I had the oddest premonition — that she was leaving for good. But I never could’ve guessed: This was indeed the last time I’d ever see her.
Alone, I drowned my frustrations in more alcohol — first at the executive lounge, then back in the room, raiding the minibar like a man possessed. Eventually, I passed out in a drunken stupor.
And then, the nightmares came. Fragmented dreams of Tang Shuang, of Marilyn, of Shui Ge, of Xiao Rou, of Agent Liang, of Xiaoxi — even of the father-in-law I’d never met.
In the dream, he wasn’t the frail old man from photos but a robust figure, younger than me. He sneered, ordering Tang Shuang to leave me. We argued, then fought — until I realized it wasn’t him at all. It was Tang Dan. I swung a punch —
And woke to the sound of my phone ringing. In dream Tang Dan has dragged Tang Shuang into the grey void. My heavy punch landed on nothing, yet the right shoulder still seemed dislocated. Then I was completely awake, feeling the headache and sore, especially on the right shoulder. No wonder I dreamt about the dislocating shoulder.
Disoriented, I fumbled for the phone that's actually ringing. The screen showed 2:14 PM — and Tang Shuang’s name.
Still groggy, I answered with a grin. "Shuang… overslept. Love you—"
A cold laugh cut me off. A man’s voice. "Ghost Uncle?"
My hangover vanished. "Who is this? Why do you have Tang Shuang’s phone?"
The voice chuckled, careless and cruel. "Me? I’m your future brother-in-law."
Future brother-in-law? My sluggish brain took a second to process. Tang Dan. Relief washed over me. "You scared me. I thought something happened."
I forced a laugh. "First time talking, Mr. Tang—"
"Call me brother", he interrupted, then abruptly snarled, "Why did you kill my father?"
Kill his father?
Meaning… Tang Jiafeng? That was absurd. I’d never even met the man —
outside of dreams.
My headache became worse, slow on thought. It took me couple of seconds to remember his bad jokes Tang Shuang used to warn me about. So he was just making fun of me.
I calmed a little, seriously replied, "Mr. Tang, please cut it off. Let your sister answer the phone."
Tang Dan ranted on, oscillating between fury and glee. "I should hate you… but with Dad dead and you as the killer, the board will side with me! Hah! So maybe I should thank you!"
"This is such a dilemma!" He suddenly burst into laughs again.
I dismissed his rambling as another tasteless joke. "Enough. Put Tang Shuang on."
Tang Dan, like a true madman, suddenly veered into another topic, "Speaking of which — Ghost Uncle, that's what they call you, right? My sister says you're a novelist. Who would've guessed you're such a fighter! Climbing down from rooftops, dodging infrared sensors, and the most impressive part—one punch! Just one punch knocked out a bodyguard. Wow! Exactly like Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible — oh wait, you mainlanders don't call it that, it's something like 'Dish Something'... damn, I forgot. Ghost Uncle, level with me — are you a spy?"
I endured his nonsense with strained patience and repeated for the final time, "Mr. Tang, I don’t know why you stole your sister’s phone to call me with these ridiculous jokes. But now, please return it to her, or I’m hanging up."
Tang Dan continued to pester, "Give it back? Sure, sure. But first tell me — why kill the old man? Just because he didn’t want you with my sister? Was that really necessary?"
He even sighed dramatically, muttering, "Tsk tsk. You novelists — ruthless. Absolutely ruthless!"
My patience finally snapped. Shaking my head at the screen, I moved to end the call—
Then a scream pierced through the phone.
Tang Shuang.
I shouted into the phone, "Shuang! What’s wrong?!"
Chaos erupted on the other end — Tang Dan’s mocking laughter, then frantic arguing.
I turned the volume up, yelling, "If you hurt her, I swear—"
Silence.
Dead air.
Then, Tang Shuang’s voice.
"Shuang! What's going on?"
"I'm fine." Sh replied just two words.
I sensed something wrong.Her voice - always calm and steady - shakes with barely restrained fury and grief. Her answer followed proved my suspicion, only of the worst senario possible.
"Why did you kill my father?"
My jaw dropped in shock: "I—I killed your father? No, that's impossible!"
If Tang Dan's earlier accusation had been a cruel joke, coming from Tang Shuang, there was no possibility of this being a prank.
I sucked in a sharp breath, "This is a misunderstanding! A mistake!"
After a few seconds of silence, Tang Shuang's voice regained its composure, "Where are you right now?"
"At the hotel, in my room", I answered without hesitation.
"And last night?" she pressed.
Frowning, I explained in detail, "After you left last night, I drank some more — okay, fine, I got drunk. I was in the hotel the entire night, sleeping."
Her next question made me both exasperated and amused, "You were alone all night? No one with you?"
Women will be women — even at a time like this, her first concern was whether I'd betrayed her. I let out a bitter laugh, "Of course I was alone. Shuang, please tell me what's going on?"
But Tang Shuang's voice was filled with despair, "I almost wish you hadn't been alone. At least then..."
She sighed — a rare show of vulnerability from her, "At least then you'd have an alibi for when the murder happened."
A chill ran down my spine. Murder? So Tang Jiafeng really had been killed? But even if that were true, what did it have to do with me? I had no motive — it's not like I'd hack the man to pieces just because he didn't approve of me as a son-in-law! If Tang Dan suspected me, fine, but why was Tang Shuang so convinced I'd done it? What the hell was wrong with this family?
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, "Shuang, I swear I was in the hotel all night. You know how drunk I was — I could barely stand to use the bathroom. How could I have gone out to kill anyone? And your father, of all people!"
Tang Shuang sounded hesitant, "I didn't believe it at first either, until —"
I cut in urgently, "Whatever Tang Dan told you, he's lying! Any evidence is fake — it's a setup! He's trying to tear us apart!"
Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice was drained of strength, "If it were just his word against yours, of course I wouldn't believe it. But there's evidence."
She added quietly: "A lot of it."