Chapter 52: Lying Down
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
The group thought they had found a brief haven within the confines of the storeroom. However, they were utterly blindsided when they discovered a chilling truth: a ghost had been secretly hiding among their numbers. The threat had gone unnoticed until Miles urgently sounded the alert. If they hadn’t been made aware of it, the impending fate awaiting them was certain—none of them, including Ethan, a ghost tamer, would have made it out alive.
While a ghost tamer may harness the strength and capabilities of a ghostly presence, they are by no means impervious to harm. Overzealous use of their ghostly abilities can precipitate their downfall. Among the group, Miles’s attention was drawn to Ethan, who looked drained, his pale complexion revealing significant blood loss and exhaustion.
He was deeply concerned about the restrained ghost within Ethan. How much more could he take? When would the dormant spirit inside him awaken with fury?
“Are you human?” a visibly shaken Ethan inquired. As they left the storeroom, he hesitated, fixing Miles with a probing, earnest look. He couldn’t determine if the young security guard facing him was a living being or a ghostly apparition.
“I believe I am very much alive. You’re Ethan, a ghost tamer, aren’t you?” Miles replied.
A shadow of suspicion flickered across Ethan’s eyes as he retorted, “And who might you be?”
“Actually, I’m affiliated with Interpols Ghost Tamer HQ,” said Miles, choosing his words carefully. He felt that admitting he was just a trainee wouldn’t command much respect. Plus, Rain, the operator behind the satellite phone, had wanted him to join their ranks.
Upon hearing this, Ethan’s inspection of Miles became even more thorough. Miles’s security uniform made his claim more plausible. Further reinforcing this belief was the satellite positioning phone, a standard gear for those at HQ, which Miles wore.
“I’ve heard rumors that HQ is spread thin, with just about one representative in each city across the country. Right was the point person for Spear City. And you are?”
“My name is Miles,” he replied, maintaining his composure. “I regret to inform you that Right has died. He tragically lost his life during a recent incident at a school.”
Ethan acknowledged this with a nod, “Understood. I appreciate your intervention earlier. How did you manage to repel that horde of aggressive spirits? Even veteran ghost tamers can find such numbers daunting. My initial assessment attributed the mall disappearances to, at most, a C-level ghost. I evidently misjudged the severity.”
Ethan’s countenance was filled with guilt as he lamented his prior decisions. “Had I grasped the gravity of the situation, I wouldn’t have allowed my ambitions to cloud my judgment.”
“In the face of these persistent ghostly attacks, what skills or talents have proven crucial for you?” Miles inquired, trying to shift the conversation back to Ethan, hoping to learn more about his methods.
Without hesitation, Ethan looked down at his hands, which were smeared with the supernatural blood of the ghosts he’d encountered. “In the supernatural circles, I’ve earned the moniker ‘Ghost Blood Ethan.’ The blood of the ghosts on my hands has the unique power to suppress other spirits. I once successfully trapped a ghost with some assistance, but I have to be cautious. If I expose the ghost blood on my hands for an extended period, it can act as a beacon, drawing more spirits to rise.”
Miles raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you mentioned that you collaborated with others to trap a ghost? How exactly did you achieve that? I wasn’t aware ghosts could be physically detained.”
Ethan elaborated, “The technique is simple but can be seen as brutal. I use the ghost blood to paralyze the spirit, rendering it immobile. If you promptly encase the ghost in a box made entirely of pure gold and seal it tightly, the ghost becomes trapped inside, unable to break free. Why are you asking this? The method is well known among our kind.”
Slightly embarrassed, Miles admitted, “I’m still in training and haven’t earned full membership rights.”
Miles remembered reading a research article penned by a renowned paranormal scientist named Professor Bruce P on that special site. The document postulated that ghosts could influence most materials, but, interestingly, not gold. The professor had delved deep into the science behind this, exploring potential techniques to control and manipulate ghostly energies.
The concept was riveting. If Professor P’s research was correct, then a container crafted from gold could act as an effective prison for these ghostly entities. However, it would only serve to imprison them, not eliminate them.
Their engrossing conversation was abruptly interrupted by a terrified shout. Looking around, Miles noticed that disembodied spirits had surrounded them, forming a threatening barrier, effectively cutting off any potential escape routes. Their only way out would be a deadly jump from the building’s fifth floor. The predicament had sent other occupants, such as the entrepreneur Mr. Calm, Mall Manager Li, and the fraudster Master Catch, into a state of frantic panic.
“How can you remain so calm when faced with such a massive horde of spirits?” a voice shrieked in desperation. Ethan echoed the sentiment, his anxiety palpable, “You might be the one leading us, but you won’t stand a chance against this sheer number. Pushing your ghost powers to their limit could be fatal. You do understand the stakes, right?”
“Absolutely,” responded Miles with a calm demeanor, “You’ve also used up a considerable amount of your ghost energy. I can tell your grip on the ghost blood is faltering. Are you nearing your limit? Have you considered what your end might look like?”
Ethan, visibly irked, retorted, “I get your insinuation. In life-threatening situations, sometimes one has to resort to drastic measures.”
Miles countered, “If, when dealing with ghosts, your immediate response is to unleash your ghost power, you’re setting yourself up for a premature end. My approach is more strategic. I prioritize using my wits and intelligence, turning to my ghost abilities only when all rational methods have been exhausted. Regardless, now’s not the time for a theoretical discussion. We have people to save.” A smirk played on Miles’s lips, hinting at a plan.
Determined, Miles took bold steps towards the gathering of ghosts that seemed to form an impenetrable barrier.
Ethan’s face contorted with shock and confusion. Challenging such a large number of ghosts at once was an act that even Ethan, seasoned as he was, wouldn’t dare to attempt. What emboldened this younger ghost tamer to face the challenge head-on? Ethan had already shifted his mindset, reconciling with the notion that those trapped were beyond saving. His thoughts had shifted to self-preservation and devising an exit strategy.
He had always believed that no amount of money was worth risking one’s life for.
Yet, what transpired next left Ethan stunned. As Miles moved purposefully, he pushed several members of their group, causing them to topple over.
A chorus of alarmed cries filled the air as a number of them lost their balance and hit the ground. Ethan tried to make sense of Miles’s actions. Was this a calculated move to save them, or had Miles made a grave error?
“If you value your life, remain on the ground with your back against the floor,” Miles urgently instructed Mr. Calm, holding onto his shirt collar to emphasize the importance. “Staying down will make you less of a target for the ghosts. Running will seal your fate even quicker.”
Cornered by the impending threat, Mr. Calm had little choice but to listen. With a gulp of anxiety, he shut his eyes and laid flat on the floor, hoping that this defensive posture would offer protection from the circling spirits above.
“To anyone else hoping to make it out alive, do as he’s doing. Stay down and remain motionless,” Miles called out to the others.
While some followed the advice without hesitation, others found the idea of lying prone absurd, interpreting it as a passive acceptance of death. In their heightened state of panic, they chose to run instead.
“Stop! Jumping from this height is certain death!” Miles shouted as he spotted an assistant of Master Catch teetering on the edge of a rail, preparing to leap. Unfortunately, his words fell on deaf ears. Overwhelmed by terror, the man plummeted downwards.
A heavy feeling of regret weighed on Miles. Had the man stayed put, he might have lived to see another day. Instead, his leap had sealed his fate.
Those who ran were similarly doomed. The ghosts were swift in their pursuit, effortlessly trapping them. What followed was a horrifying scene: ghostly hands reached out, tearing off the heads of the fleeing victims. In a morbid twist, some ghosts exchanged their heads with the ones they’d ripped off, thereby creating new ghostly apparitions.
After the nightmarish ordeal, an unsettling silence permeated the air. Remarkably, those who had heeded Miles’s advice and remained on the ground had been spared from the ghostly assault.
Ethan, lying alongside the survivors, stared at Miles with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Meanwhile, Miles stood firm with his back against a wall, never once showing an opening to the ghosts surrounding him.
“Well then,” Miles began, a hint of a smile on his lips, “I kept my word, didn’t I? Congratulations on surviving, all of you. Now, let’s discuss my payment. Fair warning, my expertise doesn’t come cheap.”
Why would Miles risk everything to assist this affluent group? The answer was straightforward: monetary gain. For all his bravado and tactics, Miles wasn’t in it out of sheer goodwill towards his clients.