The gunshot echoed through the underground tunnel.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

Ryan instinctively stepped in front of Mrs. Martha.

Oliver quietly pulled an old iron pipe from the corner of the room.

“I was hoping I’d never have to use this.”

Ryan looked at the pipe.

“I still vote for the rubber chickens.”

Oliver sighed.

“I left them upstairs.”

Ryan shook his head.

“Great.”

“So today we die without comedy.”

Mrs. Martha smacked both of them with her walking stick.

“You two can joke after we survive.”

---

The footsteps grew louder.

Someone was coming down the hidden staircase.

Flashlights danced across the stone walls.

Ryan switched off his own flashlight.

The underground office was swallowed by darkness.

Three voices echoed through the tunnel.

“Search every room.”

“The diary has to be here.”

“Don’t let them escape.”

Ryan whispered,

“Who are these people?”

Oliver answered,

“I don’t know.”

“But they’re professionals.”

---

Ryan looked around the room.

His eyes stopped on an old wooden wardrobe.

He smiled.

“I have an idea.”

Oliver immediately looked worried.

“The last time you smiled…”

“You almost fell into a hole.”

“Trust me.”

“I don’t.”

Ryan ignored him.

He opened the wardrobe and found dozens of old clown costumes.

Oliver laughed.

“My grandfather really loved clowns.”

Ryan quickly handed one costume to Oliver.

“Wear it.”

Oliver blinked.

“What?”

“Trust me.”

Mrs. Martha crossed her arms.

“I’ve reached the age where I no longer question young people.”

She picked up a clown hat herself.

“If we’re doing something ridiculous…”

“We’re doing it properly.”

Five minutes later…

Ryan looked at the two of them.

Oliver was wearing a bright green clown wig.

Mrs. Martha wore an oversized red clown nose.

Ryan couldn’t stop laughing.

Mrs. Martha pointed her walking stick at him.

“Say one word…”

“And I’ll haunt you myself.”

---

The hidden door suddenly burst open.

Three masked men rushed inside.

The leader raised his flashlight.

Instead of finding frightened people…

He found three clowns.

Ryan waved cheerfully.

“Welcome to the Midnight Comedy Club.”

The masked men looked at each other.

“What?”

Oliver suddenly began laughing in the same terrifying voice the neighborhood had feared for years.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The sound echoed through the underground room.

Even Ryan got goosebumps.

One of the masked men whispered,

“I told you this place was haunted.”

The second man nervously crossed himself.

The third one slowly stepped backward.

Mrs. Martha suddenly lifted both hands.

“Leave this house…”

“…or the ghost will charge extra.”

Ryan almost burst out laughing.

The masked men panicked.

“RUN!”

All three turned around and sprinted toward the staircase.

Their frightened screams echoed through the tunnel.

Within seconds…

They were gone.

Silence returned.

Ryan collapsed onto a chair laughing so hard that tears rolled down his face.

“I can’t believe…”

“They actually believed it.”

Oliver removed his green wig.

“Never underestimate the power of a good ghost story.”

Mrs. Martha proudly adjusted her clown nose.

“I’ve still got it.”

---

Ryan finally remembered the diary.

He opened it again.

Several pages had been torn out.

But one folded letter remained hidden inside.

The paper looked newer than everything else.

Someone had placed it there years after the diary was written.

Ryan unfolded it carefully.

At the top was written…

To Whoever Finds This Diary

The handwriting was different.

“If you’re reading this…”

“Then Henry Blackwood failed.”

“The Fourth Man betrayed all of us.”

“He stole something far more valuable than money.”

Ryan looked at Oliver.

“What did he steal?”

Oliver continued reading aloud.

He stole an identity.

Ryan frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Mrs. Martha slowly sat down.

Her face had become pale.

“I think…”

“I know.”

Ryan turned toward her.

“You do?”

She nodded.

“My husband once told me…”

“Sometimes the most dangerous criminal isn’t someone hiding from the police.”

“It’s someone pretending to be someone else.”

Before Ryan could ask another question…

A loud ringtone echoed through the tunnel.

Everyone froze.

Oliver slowly reached into his pocket.

“My phone.”

Ryan stared at him.

“You seriously forgot to put it on silent?”

Oliver smiled awkwardly.

“I was expecting pizza.”

Ryan covered his face.

“We’re hiding from criminals…”

“And you’re ordering pepperoni?”

Oliver answered the phone.

“Hello?”

A frightened voice shouted through the speaker.

“Oliver!”

“Don’t go back to the house!”

“They’re not ordinary thieves!”

“They work for…”

The call suddenly cut off.

The screen went black.

At the exact same moment…

Ryan noticed something terrifying.

The tunnel behind them…

Was no longer empty.

A tall man dressed in a long black coat stood silently in the shadows.

No one had heard him arrive.

No one had seen him enter.

He slowly clapped his hands.

“Excellent performance.”

His voice was calm.

“But now…”

“I’d like my diary back.”

Ryan tightened his grip on the black notebook.

The stranger smiled.

Then he removed one leather glove.

On the back of his right hand…

Was a tattoo of a laughing clown.

Ryan immediately realized one thing.

The mystery had never been about a ghost.

It had always been about…

The Clown Society.