Chapter 39: Change of Objectives
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Miles began, his voice serious and somber, “I sincerely hope both of you understand the gravity of the situation we find ourselves in. Coral’s situation is precarious, and from my perspective as an observer, it seems her condition is deteriorating rapidly. I urge you to prepare for what seems, unfortunately, to be an inevitable outcome.”
As Miles finished speaking, their car smoothly rolled to a stop amidst the hustle and bustle of a crowded city district.
Stepping out of the car, they found a nearby spot to sit, taking a moment to absorb and process the intense discussion they had just had in the car.
Mrs. Ocean’s voice was thick with anger and disbelief. “How can you speak so bluntly and without hope?” she exclaimed. “Isn’t there some way to get rid of this accursed mark?”
Miles responded patiently, “Whether we completely erase the mark or try to replace it with another, the prognosis is grim. I know my words might seem unfeeling and stark, but I’m merely portraying the harsh reality we face. Mr. Beach, wouldn’t you agree?”
Mr. Beach, lost in thought, took a drag from his cigarette. As the patriarch of the family, he felt a crushing weight on his shoulders. His face was a canvas of despair and confusion.
He had fully understood Miles’s implication. Without eliminating the mark, the ghost child would persistently haunt Coral. If they opted to remove it, substituting it with another might only buy them a little more time, but the eventual outcome would still be bleak.
Summoning courage, Coral intervened, her voice quivering but determined, “Mom, Dad, please understand. I’ve come to terms with my fate. I want to face this ghost child alone. I can’t bear to see you both suffer because of me.”
Her heartfelt words shattered Mrs. Ocean’s composure, and she sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to her daughter.
Mr. Beach, however, was filled with determination. Discarding his cigarette, he stood up and addressed Miles, “If I agree to this process of replacing Coral’s mark, do you have any plausible solutions in mind?”
Miles sighed, “There’s one potential method, but it’s akin to a temporary fix. It’s much like trying to quench one’s thirst with a poisoned chalice. It might delay the inevitable, but the end remains unchanged.”
Mr. Beach persisted, “So without removing the mark, Coral’s life expectancy is less than three days?”
Miles responded with a heavy heart, “To be frank, she might not even make it through today. The only reason the ghost child didn’t attack her before was the visibility of the mark on her hand. But now, with the mark fading rapidly, I fear the entity will come for her within the next hour, if not sooner.”
“And with the mark erased?” pressed Mr. Beach.
Miles explained further, “If Coral is connected to a ghost tamer, she might get a few more months of respite. It’s a slight improvement, but the final outcome remains unchanged. Moreover, I can’t promise that there won’t be unforeseen complications or repercussions.”
Mr. Beach clenched his jaw, determination evident in his eyes. “Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes bitter. But regardless of how bleak the situation might appear, we cannot and will not give in to despair,” he stated firmly. “I beg you, young man, lend us your expertise. Name your price and I’ll see to it that you’re adequately compensated.”
Miles, watching the heart-wrenching scene of Coral and her mother embracing, deeply moved, let out a heavy sigh before speaking. “It’s crucial to understand that we aren’t dealing with some mystical or evil entities. This isn’t a battle against vindictive spirits, so the risk is somewhat reduced. Given our prior interactions and understanding, I’m willing to offer my help this time at no cost. But, I must emphasize that I cannot guarantee a favorable outcome, especially if Coral’s condition worsens or unexpected challenges arise.”
Mr. Beach exhaled deeply, nodding. “I appreciate your candor. I’ll bear the responsibility for any outcome. Should any harm befall Coral, know that I won’t hold you accountable,” he assured.
While Mr. Beach’s unwavering determination was a testament to his resilience, Mrs. Ocean’s demeanor reflected a mother’s anguish and careful thought.
Miles quickly interjected, “If we’re in agreement, then we should act immediately. The ghost child may not be far behind.”
Mr. Beach gestured to Coral, “Come closer, Coral.”
She slowly lifted her eyes, red and swollen from tears, and locked her gaze on the two men.
“If you’re resolved, Coral, hold out your hand towards me,” directed Miles.
“Stay strong, Coral. We’ll face whatever comes our way. Right now, we must overcome this immediate threat,” Mr. Beach said, a mix of hope and trepidation clouding his face. The weight of his decision was palpable; he was torn between wanting to protect his daughter and fearing the consequences of his choices.
Softly, Coral murmured, “Thank you, Miles,” her voice barely above a whisper as she extended her hand towards him.
Her desperate wish was clear: to live free from the shadow of the menacing entity.
“We shared classrooms, and besides, your father has already offered compensation,” Miles remarked, gently gripping her wrist, just as friends might in their school days. “Now, let’s see the mark on your neck.”
Without a word, Mrs. Ocean began to peel off the bandage that encircled Coral’s neck. Beneath it lay angry, inflamed skin smeared with salves. But most striking were the two deep, black handprints that stood out prominently.
Miles’s expression turned serious, memories flooding back. As he held onto Coral’s hand, a singular eye manifested from a slit within his own palm. This eye seemed to merge with Coral’s skin, drawn magnetically towards the ominous mark on her neck.
Mr. Beach gasped in amazement, “It’s working! I can see it!”
And it truly was.
Inside Coral, Miles could feel the essence of the ghost eye. It was as if an ethereal eye had been embedded within her, yet a trace of the ghost’s potency lingered in her.
The once-pronounced handprints on Coral’s neck faded in mere seconds until they were no more.
Miles gently released Coral’s hand, revealing a distinct mark that looked strikingly like a ghostly eye. The mark resembled a red eye tattoo and was prominently displayed on her wrist. Even more noticeable was the faint, pulsating red glow it emitted.
The handprints! They’re completely gone,” Mr. Beach, with palpable hope and anxiety, rushed to his daughter’s side. “Coral, talk to me. How do you feel?”
The excitement and relief of both parents were undeniable.
Pausing for a moment to reflect, Coral responded, “I feel… different. Better than before, actually. It’s a unique sensation, like a weight has been lifted, but it’s hard to put into words.” Her gaze lingered on the glowing eye mark on her wrist, her expression contemplative, indicating a shift, albeit one hard to define.
Mrs. Ocean, overcome with joy, drew Coral into a heartfelt embrace. “Thank the heavens you’re alright,” she whispered.
Miles, meanwhile, paused to assess his condition. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but internally, he felt a slight drain, reminiscent of the fatigue after an intensive workout.
“Only individuals attuned to the ghost domain have the capability to control ghostly entities. How the ghost servant interacts with a living host as opposed to a malevolent spirit remains to be seen. Coral’s journey from here on will undoubtedly be unique. We’ll have to monitor any changes as time progresses,” Miles reflected aloud.
As the group continued their discussion, an eerie sight took place on a nearby road. A peculiar child with a deep bluish-black complexion darted eerily fast towards a street corner, moving on all fours in an unnatural gait.
“Did anyone else see that weird kid sprinting this way?” a nearby pedestrian asked, visibly unnerved by what he’d witnessed.
His friend, skeptical, brushed it off. “Kid? You’re probably just seeing things.”
However, the ghost child suddenly halted in its tracks. With its primary target, Coral, no longer bearing the mark, it seemed momentarily disoriented. Bereft of a clear objective, the entity was poised to lash out indiscriminately at the unsuspecting crowd.
A young man, engrossed in his phone, stumbled slightly. “Woah, what did I just trip over?” But as he turned around, he saw nothing unusual.
Upon resuming his path, the young man froze. Standing before him was the ghost child — its deep bluish-black skin contrasting with its hauntingly vivid eyes.
The man looked perplexed. He assumed the child might be homeless or in distress, and eager to avoid a confrontation, he quickly sidestepped the entity to proceed on his journey.
However, the ghost child’s focus shifted. No longer fixated on Coral, it now trailed the young man. The peril had not ended; it had merely found a new, unsuspecting target.