Chapter 113: Wesley
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Driving ahead, it became increasingly evident that Stretch’s physical condition was rapidly worsening. The skin on his back felt as if it was thickening, swelling up painfully, and he could sense the warmth of blood oozing out. Inside him, a fierce spirit stirred restlessly, agitated and eager to break out, even though there wasn’t any immediate threat. He was in a predicament: if he didn’t harness the spirit’s power, his deteriorating condition would probably claim his life within ten days. However, the act of using the spirit’s might could be so overwhelming that it might kill him instantly.
“Thank goodness I managed to get out of that village in one piece,” he reflected. “If I can successfully finalize that transaction in the upcoming days, I might be able to suppress the violent resurgence of this spirit and liberate myself from this torment.”
Although he was shadowed by the ever-present threat of death, Stretch didn’t sink into despair. Surprisingly, he found himself burning with hope and determination to persevere. He felt a sense of accomplishment after having managed to complete his mission, even if it was by the skin of his teeth.
However, as he prepared to merge his car onto the primary roadway, a quick glance out of the window changed everything. He spotted a police blockade at the crossroad ahead. A sizable section of the surrounding area had been sealed off, with many vehicles stationed and makeshift tents set up. There was a throng of onlookers, gawking at the scene in curiosity. All of this wasn’t there when he had ventured into the village before.
His heart pounding with anxiety, Stretch sounded the car horn and rolled down his window. Leaning out, he yelled back to Miles, who was driving a short distance behind him, “There’s an obstruction up front! Do you think they’re here for us?”
Having already assessed the situation, Miles called back, “Keep your cool. They’re not after you; they’re here for me. It’s probably the folks from Sun’s company at the club. They’re likely here to finalize our pending business and perhaps settle some old scores.”
It seemed that the call made earlier in the village had produced results. Feeling the pressure, Build had used his influence to rally the representatives of the mysterious company.
Miles alone couldn’t have possibly tracked down the leader of such a secretive organization, negotiated terms, or gathered detailed intelligence on their dealings. A direct, face-to-face discussion was imperative. However, this secretive organization wouldn’t bother with just Miles; they would need involvement from the high-ranking summoners as these officials were deeply implicated in the affair.
Anticipating their arrival, a delegation was already stationed at the crossroads, seated under sun umbrellas and gathered around a table, seemingly ready for an open-air negotiation.
Without hesitation, Miles hit the brakes, bringing both cars to a standstill by the road’s edge. Together, he and Stretch exited their vehicles, preparing to confront what awaited them.
“Ah, Mr. Miles, Mr. Stretch,” greeted a man who walked up to them with assured steps and a welcoming smile that revealed impeccable white teeth. His attire bespoke authority, and there was a distinct aura of command around him. “My name is Wesley. I hold the reins of this company. Sun, our esteemed manager, has been managing this transaction under my directives. Before we dive into the finer details, I want to extend my gratitude and admiration for your commendable efforts in neutralizing the supernatural disturbances that plagued Yellow Hill Village.”
Offering his hand, a gleaming watch evident on his wrist, Wesley waited for a handshake.
Stretch, taking a moment to look at the offered hand, finally grasped it firmly and said, “We appreciate the acknowledgment, Mr. Wesley. But let’s be clear, our main expectation is for your company to stay true to its commitments.” The urgency in his voice was palpable, reflecting his dire need to find a solution to suppress the aggressive spirit within him.
“Absolutely,” Wesley responded, each word dripping with sincerity. “The very integrity of our esteemed company is on the line. Please be at ease, Mr. Stretch. Now, might I tempt you gentlemen with a glass of champagne? I’ve arranged for a little celebration to honor your successes and offer you some much-needed relaxation.”
Miles, however, gripping a body bag tightly, stared intently at Wesley. The cold, penetrating glare he gave made the temperature around them seem to drop. “Six ghost tamers ventured out, four now lay lifeless. One struggles at the cusp of life, and the other is a cauldron of pent-up fury. And you wish to toast our success? Do our sacrifices seem insignificant to you? Or perhaps you believe you can soothe our anger with mere flattery?”
A fleeting shadow crossed Wesley’s face, betraying his unease. While he felt Stretch, being a commoner, might be more pliable, Miles was proving to be a formidable challenge. The charged energy emanating from him suggested that his mental equilibrium was off-kilter and hinted at an underlying volatility.
“Isn’t this essentially a business deal between our parties?” Wesley asked, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the conversation.
“A business deal?” Miles’s voice dripped with ice-cold disdain. “Let’s talk specifics then. How do you plan to help with my urgent need to contain the violent spirit resurgence? I explicitly warned Ms. Sun that any form of deceit would result in repercussions for your entire lineage. Now that we’ve concluded our mission in Yellow Hill Village, isn’t it time for you to honor your word, Mr. Wesley?”
Attempting to dispel the rising tension, Wesley chuckled lightly, “Certainly, as per our mutual agreement, we will reveal the method to you shortly. Our organization is built on trust, and we have no intentions of reneging on our commitments.”
“Shortly? How should I interpret that? A week, a fortnight, or perhaps a year?” Miles retorted, his voice taking on an even sharper edge. “I demand the solution immediately.”
Seeking to placate him, Wesley began, “Patience is key here. First, we need to thoroughly analyze your unique data. Once compiled, it will be processed in our state-of-the-art facilities to identify a suitable spirit match. This analysis should conclude within a week. Our aim is to determine the spirit that aligns best with your energies, ensuring a harmonious coexistence. Though I can’t claim our methods are infallible, they certainly offer better odds than any haphazard approach.”
Pausing for breath, he added, “As for the intricacies of our methodology, they are proprietary, and I’m not at liberty to disclose them.”
Raising an eyebrow, Miles asked, “And what odds are we talking about?”
With slight hesitation, Wesley confessed, “Our success rate hovers around twenty percent.”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Wesley went on, choosing his words carefully, “To be completely transparent, our current success rate stands at approximately 15%. I must say, you’re in a relatively advantageous position. Our research and methods have evolved dramatically in recent times. Merely three months ago, our success rate was a paltry 5%.”
The prospect of controlling a secondary ghost with a success rate shy of 20% felt like walking on a tightrope. The stakes were incredibly high. Yet, the temptation of gaining such power was tantalizing. On the other hand, the technique involving the use of human skin parchments guaranteed a full 100% success rate when it came to subduing malevolent spirits. The catch was grim – one had to feed a spirit to the human skin parchment, a form of ritualistic nourishment.
Comparatively, the latter approach appeared more promising. Yet, it was riddled with profound moral quandaries and potential dangers.
Miles, his gaze sharp and penetrating, asked, “Is there a possibility to further optimize this success rate?”
“Truthfully, I’m not entirely certain,” Wesley admitted, a slight edge in his voice. “The lab’s inner workings aren’t directly under my purview.”
Miles’s eyes narrowed, the steely gaze piercing Wesley’s facade. “Still holding your cards close to your chest, I see?”
Switching topics abruptly, Miles pressed on, “What knowledge do you have regarding the files linked to the incident?”
Feigning surprise, Wesley replied, “Files? Which ones are you referring to? My knowledge regarding the specifics of Yellow Hill Village incident isn’t exhaustive. If the rumors are to be believed, you’ve been unofficially designated a deputy City Head and even have direct contact with the government’s ghost tamer department. Even though you’ve not formally accepted the title, you ought to have the privilege to delve into any paranormal case files.”
“Are you trying to play games with me?” Miles’s voice dripped with cold fury. “I want unfiltered information. And trust me, I have means to ensure you speak.”
Wesley, maintaining an air of calm, countered, “Relax. I truly am in the dark here. If you decide to harm me at this stage, our pre-established agreement would crumble. All the challenges you’ve braved, the sacrifices you’ve made, would be for naught. I’d advise you to reflect before you leap.”
Sensing the atmosphere thickening with hostility, Stretch, anxiety evident on his face, chimed in, “Miles, we need to think rationally. We are the last men standing after a series of tragedies. If you lash out now, our painstaking efforts, the very essence of our journey, will dissolve into oblivion.”
Stretch had observed this fiery temperament in the younger generation during their time at the club. They often opted for brash actions over diplomacy, seemingly ignoring the voice of prudence.