Chapter 27: Blinded by Red Paper
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Inside a dimly lit public restroom, Miles frantically tried to distance himself from the haunting memories of his apartment. He turned on the tap, and cold water gushed out forcefully. As he cupped his hands and splashed the water onto his face, he worked hard to remove the persistent blood stains that marred his features. The icy sensation of the water offered a brief respite to his tense and frazzled nerves.
He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible, “Something was very wrong.” He thought back to the eerie incident at his apartment. “That ghost… it could actually manipulate my memories. It made me believe in a person, a being that didn’t even exist. Not even my ghost eyes could see through its deceit.”
He continued, with a touch of gratitude, “If Rain hadn’t stepped in, I’d still be under that ghost’s spell.”
As he looked into the restroom mirror, he realized his unique eye, the one that had distinguished him from an ordinary person, was gone. For a fleeting moment, he appeared to be just another ordinary man.
From the corner, his satellite phone broke the silence. “Miles, are you there? This is Rain,” the voice came through, sounding concerned.
Recognizing the voice, Miles replied, “Yes, Rain, I’m here.”
“What happened back at the apartment?” Rain asked urgently.
Miles took a deep breath, “You were right in your suspicions. My father did die in a car crash when I was in school. What I encountered at my apartment was no human; it was a ghost.”
“Did you escape from it safely?” Rain questioned, seeking assurance.
Miles nodded, even though he knew Rain couldn’t see him. “Yes, I managed to get away.” As he spoke, his eyes were drawn to a piece of red paper stuck to his hand. It was a fragment of a newspaper soaked in blood.
Rain’s voice was full of concern. “Your safety is crucial, Miles. Can you give me any description of this ghost?”
Miles considered for a moment and then responded, “It possesses the power to alter one’s memories. I’m still trying to figure out its exact purpose and its preferred method of killing. One thing I can tell you is that I nearly suffocated when it shoved a blood-soaked newspaper at me. That’s all I have right now.”
Rain made a mental note of this, “Alright, got it.”
Miles continued, anxiety evident in his voice, “If my father was the ghost, what about my mother? When did this ghost first start haunting? I’m sure there must be some local surveillance recordings. Can you help me find them?”
Rain hesitated slightly, “I can assist you, Miles. But I need you to work with us in return.”
Miles raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean by ‘work’? What do you want?”
Rain explained, “Just to gather basic intel. If you encounter any powerful ghosts, inform us immediately.”
Miles shot back, his voice sharp, “What’s in it for me? You think I’d risk my life for nothing? I’ve checked out your organization online. Unless you offer me something substantial, there’s no deal.”
Feeling the weight of the conversation, Miles added, “Look, let’s put this on hold. I’ve got another pressing matter to deal with. We can talk later.” With that, he ended the call.
On the other end, Rain stared at the now-silent phone, a mix of concern and frustration evident on her face.
Miles wasn’t exactly trying to sidestep the issue at hand. His attention was undeniably pulled towards the odd red paper sticking to his hand. It wasn’t just an ordinary paper; its eerie, deep crimson shade sent chills down his spine. It was about the size of his palm and seemed to be infused with an energy that gave off an unsettling vibe.
He slowly tried to remove the paper, thinking it better to get rid of such an object. However, as he began to peel it off, a sharp, agonizing pain shot through his hand as if it was being split apart.
From the fissure, a glowing red eye made its appearance once again.
As this happened, Miles felt a strange sensation coursing through his veins, as if the multiple eyes within him were being jolted awake. They seemed agitated, and their dormant energy flared up.
Could this paper be the cause? Miles pondered, holding up the red sheet to inspect it further. Rather than throw it away, he decided to press it back onto his hand, hoping to quell the now-visible eye.
To his relief, as soon as the paper re-adhered, the fiery eye dimmed and retreated, and the disturbing sensation under his skin faded away. A calming feeling replaced the earlier turmoil.
Analyzing the situation, Miles thought, “This crimson paper must be acting as a suppressant for the eye’s energy. It isn’t a complete suppression, but it’s certainly diminishing its potency.” A wave of gratitude for this unexpected aid washed over him.
An old saying echoed in his mind: only a ghost has the power to defeat another ghost. If these eyes buried within him bore any resemblance to ghosts, then this red paper might be of a similar ghostly nature. Perhaps it was the confrontation of these two ghostly forces that led to a state of equilibrium. This paper could be his saving grace.
Yet, a nagging doubt remained.
Miles frowned, reflecting, “If my theory is correct, why wasn’t there any suppression when that ghost baby bit me back in school? In fact, the eye became even more volatile.”
Was there a difference between this red paper and the ghost baby?
Choosing to ponder on this mystery later, he decided the immediate course of action was to safeguard the red paper. It seemed to be a pivotal tool in his continued survival.
“It’s imperative I head back to my place.”
With renewed determination, Miles took a deep breath and ventured out of the restroom, preparing himself for the challenges that lay ahead. However, upon exiting, he was immediately confronted by a gang of young men who seemed to be looking for trouble.
“Hey there! Fresh out of the restroom? Don’t leave so quickly. It seems fate brought us together, so let’s have a little chat,” one of them, with a sly grin, approached Miles, casually draping an arm around him.
Miles arched an eyebrow, “What do you want?”
“Just a friendly introduction. Name’s Flyer,” the young man said, flashing a toothy grin. “And who might you be?”
Reluctantly, Miles responded, “I’m Miles.”
Flyer wore a sly grin, his teeth peeking through. “See, we’re buddies now. Friends do favors for each other, right? Unfortunately, I’m a tad short on funds today. Mind helping out? I promise I’ll settle the debt tomorrow. Right here, exact spot. Every single penny.”
Miles regarded him with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. “So, you’re asking for a loan? Sounds like you’re trying to hustle me. Maybe you should find an easier target. Fair warning: I’ve had a rough day, and I’m not quite myself. Would be unfortunate if I lost my temper and got us both into trouble with the authorities.”
One of Flyer’s cronies, a young man with a vicious glint in his eye, drew a pocket knife. He teased it against Miles’s skin, the cold metal grazing his cheek. “Don’t get too cheeky. Flyer’s being a gentleman by asking. But we can switch gears if you want. Just give us a reason.”
Miles tried a softer approach, trying to defuse the escalating tension. “There’s no need to make this messy. Why don’t we just forget this little encounter and part ways peacefully?”
“That’s not going to happen,” sneered the youth with the knife. “We’re not letting you go until our pockets are a bit heavier.”
Flyer playfully slapped Miles’s shoulder, “Look, it’s not a huge deal. Consider it a small favor among friends. We’ll even things out the next time we bump into each other.”
Miles exhaled slowly, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this without conceding. “Alright, if you insist. My wallet’s in my pants pocket. Feel free.”
The knife-wielding thug seemed triumphant, quickly reaching for the promised funds. But as his fingers delved into the pocket, they brushed against something chilling and smooth.
Drawing his hand out reflexively, he stared in absolute horror at what he held: a glistening, blood-red eye that twitched in his grasp, its unnerving gaze fixed intently upon him.
His scream echoed through the night, raw with fear and disbelief.
Without warning, the entire area was bathed in a deep crimson light. Buildings, streetlights, and even the overhead moon and pavement below were all enveloped in this surreal red glow.
Miles, with an air of relaxed authority, said, “Since we’re such good friends, I assume you won’t mind visiting my ghost domain?” He stepped confidently out of the restroom.
Flyer’s face was a mask of pure terror. He recognized the man emerging from the restroom as the one he’d just been conversing with. But then who was this other person he had been leaning on all this while?
A cold realization set in. He was afraid to glance to his side, feeling a bone-chilling presence next to him like he was standing beside the lifeless body of a corpse.
Flyer’s eyes widened in sheer terror. “A ghost, it’s a real ghost!” he exclaimed, his voice quivering. His face had drained of color, leaving him looking ghostly pale. Without a second thought, he wheeled around and sprinted away from the restroom. His gang members, driven by the same paralyzing fear, scattered and bolted in various directions, wanting to put as much distance between themselves and Miles.
Miles turned his gaze to his own hand. Beneath the red paper, the eye tried to emerge, but the paper suppressed its power, pushing it back. The struggle continued as if the two were locked in a fierce battle of wills.
He mused, “With the full force of the six eyes, I can effectively control this ghost domain. But now, with the red paper restricting one, I’m left with only the power of five. Still, it’s fascinating that I can still access this ghostly dimension even in this state. This means the resurgence of the ghost’s full strength is being held in check.”
He could feel a pulsating pain radiating from five distinct areas in his body. With these five active eyes, he was privy to a unique perception, granting him an almost 360-degree awareness of his surroundings.
Miles evaluated his situation, “It seems my body can handle a maximum of six eyes, but operating with just five provides a better balance. The repercussions are there but are much more manageable.”
He wondered, “What if I could find a way to keep all six eyes under control using the red paper? Could it be the key to harnessing the ghost’s immense power without any negative consequences? And would it finally free me from the constant fear of the ghost reclaiming control?”
“But first things first. I need to get a grip on how to command this ghost domain.”
His eyes settled on the rapidly retreating figures of Flyer and his gang. They were the ideal candidates for a little experimentation.
After all, mastering this ghostly dimension would be crucial in preparing himself for the ultimate confrontation with the vengeful spirit. Utilizing the ghost’s power now wasn’t just strategic, it was imperative.
What the heck? So the newspaper ghost helping him?
remember, only a ghost can fight a ghost. it doesnt matter if they want to kill him or not. if it ends up helping him, that’s pure coincidence. this novel relies mostly on detective reasoning and the power is only secondary