Chapter 65: Passing Through
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Miles carefully cleaned the mirror’s surface, but as he moved his hand, he spotted the disintegrating red paper sticking to its back.
A prominent tear had emerged on the paper, unsettling Miles. This wasn’t just any paper. It was a cursed relic that had once been wielded by malevolent spirits. The average person wouldn’t have been able to damage it with sheer physical force. The fact that it was tearing meant that it had been manipulated by some powerful supernatural entity.
Miles touched the area where the paper was adhering. Beneath the skin of his hand, an eye, supernatural in origin, shifted as if trying to break free. The thought raced through his mind, “Is it because I accessed the ghost domain today? Or does the protective power of this red paper weaken over time?”
The sensation was disconcerting. It felt as if his body was becoming a vessel for the ghostly eye. The more powerful it grew, the closer Miles felt to meeting the cold embrace of death.
He attempted to reassure himself, “As long as I can counteract this awakening spirit, everything will be alright.” The numerous paranormal encounters in his past had somewhat dulled his fear of death.
But when his gaze landed on the human skin parchment beside him, he couldn’t suppress a shiver. Among them was an old parchment scroll. To Miles, this object emanated an aura darker and more menacing than anything else he’d encountered.
Warily, he reached out and unrolled the parchment, checking for any abnormalities. An idea crossed his mind, “Maybe I should encase this in a specially crafted box. If this parchment isn’t merely an object but a spirit in itself, I might be courting danger.”
As he scrutinized the parchment, a series of sentences materialized on its surface:
“After cleansing myself today, I noticed a unique property of this parchment. It has the power to trap spirits. In harnessing this power, I unearthed a profound revelation.”
“From this scroll, I’ve gleaned a secret of survival.”
“I’m faced with a dilemma. Should I accept the terms of this ominous pact? Just by observing this parchment, I’m filled with trepidation.”
Miles couldn’t help but voice his distrust, “Your tricks won’t work on me. Jing fell victim to your lies, and I won’t be next. You’re the epitome of deception.” He promptly folded the parchment, refusing to be seduced by its words.
It was unsettling how this human skin parchment seemed to perceive and manipulate one’s innermost desires, guiding them toward a mysterious end. The only thing that prevented Miles from disposing of it was its eerie accuracy: every statement on it had, so far, proven true.
During his school days, if it hadn’t been for the information inscribed on the unsettling human skin paper, Miles would have lost his life despite his proficiency in ghost manipulation.
The cryptic paper radiated malevolence, and Miles was fully aware of its ominous origins. But even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be instrumental in preserving his life one day. It was his sole beacon of hope in the treacherous world he inhabited. Holding onto it felt akin to a desperate man in deep waters clinging to a flimsy straw, unable to release his grip.
Suddenly, the ambient silence was broken.
“Miles, I’m back! Where are you?”
Emerging from the bathroom, Miles was greeted by the sight of River, panting slightly with a bag full of shopping items hanging heavily from her arm.
“You managed to get all that in such a short time?” Miles queried, eyebrows raised in astonishment.
Chivalrously, he approached and relieved her of the weighty load.
Catching her breath, River’s voice trembled a little, “It got dark, and I didn’t want to linger outside alone. What if another spirit crossed my path? So, I sprinted back.”
Miles responded, “You know, spirits aren’t confined to the night. If fate’s against you, they might confront you even under the blazing sun.”
River chuckled lightly, her laughter infused with a touch of relief. “Well, in that case, you’ll be my knight in shining armor, won’t you?” Being in Miles’s proximity always enshrouded her in a comforting aura, banishing her haunting apprehensions.
For a fleeting moment, Miles felt the tangible essence of safety, realizing it wasn’t just a myth but a reality.
But as he beckoned her inside, an odd sensation overwhelmed him.
Not stemming from within him but from the eerie eye embedded beneath his skin.
To his horror, multiple eyes began to rupture his flesh, making their presence felt. They sprouted from his hands, behind his neck, and other parts of his physique, a total of six. Their appearance was more vivid and animated than ever before.
A rush of dread surged within Miles, memories flashing back to a traumatic incident involving the ghost child in school, an event that had amplified the activity of the ghostly eye.
History seemed to be repeating itself.
Reacting instantly, Miles yanked River inside and bolted the door.
River, a bit taken aback, exclaimed, “I’m still not cleaned up! Why the urgency?” Her voice had an undertone of playful embarrassment.
Miles gestured for silence, his hand pressing against her lips.
Reading the gravity in his gaze, River’s playful demeanor faded. Her voice, shaky, whispered, “Did we attract another spirit’s attention?”
Miles responded grimly, “It’s not in here. It’s lurking outside.”
The ghostly eye situated at the nape of his neck detected a distant flicker. With growing apprehension, he darted towards the window, eager yet fearful of what he might observe.
Just beyond the boundaries of their apartment complex, an unsettling scene emerged. On a narrow pathway, a dense, impenetrable grey haze shrouded the environment. The illumination from nearby streetlights was swallowed whole by this ominous fog. Objects, structures, and even light seemed to be consumed and transformed by this mysterious realm, adopting its dull and lifeless hue.
Miles, taken aback, inquired softly, “What on earth is that?”
As his face revealed a hint of trepidation, the multiple ghostly eyes dotting his body converged their gaze towards the haunting scene. But in a matter of moments, each of those eyes slammed shut autonomously and simultaneously.
Their sudden closure, without Miles’s volition, exuded an eerie stillness reminiscent of when they were bound by the mystical red paper.
Miles pondered, his skin prickling with unease, “Could these eyes be evading what they see out of fear?”
Even without the assistance of these ghostly eyes, Miles, with his profound knowledge of the supernatural, recognized the oppressive haze for what it was — a ghost domain.
Its sprawling expanse was disconcerting.
Spanning from the western horizon to the southern stretches, it resembled a morbid veil of death, segregating a vast portion of the city from the rest.
Should this domain be the creation of a singular entity, then the ghost responsible wielded a power that defied comprehension.
Estimating the ghost’s prowess, Miles assessed, “It’s undoubtedly S-class, bearing cataclysmic capabilities.”
However, a sigh of relief escaped his lips as he noted, “It seems fortune favors us tonight. The ghost domain merely grazed our vicinity, leaving our residence untouched. The ghost eyes probably sensed this anomaly prior to its emergence.”
Had this ethereal realm ventured directly through their abode, Miles harbored little doubt regarding the fatal consequence.
Gulping audibly, River whispered, her voice quivering, “Has another malevolent spirit surfaced?”
Disguising his own perturbation with a forced calm, Miles replied, “It’s none of our concern. Just a transient ghost. It’ll move on.”
As he continued to observe, the suffocating pallor of the ghost domain gradually began to recede.
The grim expanse was thinning, signaling the departure of the spirit that manifested it. While the residual traces of its realm persisted, the entity itself could have already relocated to a realm unseen.
A ghost, within the bounds of its domain, enjoys the advantage of omnipresence.
Yet, just as the final vestiges of the ghost domain threatened to dissipate, Miles was momentarily entranced by a fleeting vision.
Amid the receding haze, an ethereal spectacle emerged. A singular candle emanating a ghastly green glow stood prominently. The gleaming golden holder supporting the candle showcased an intricate design reminiscent not of age-old craftsmanship but of contemporary European artistry, possibly a recent creation.
The candle’s enigmatic flame illuminated two immaculate hands, exhibiting a porcelain-like perfection.
The hands, hauntingly pale and delicate, were impaled by the pointed end of the ornate candle holder. Yet, in a macabre twist, no crimson fluid spilled from the wounds, lending the scene an even more eerie and unnatural quality.
As the candle’s flame wavered and danced for its final moments, Miles managed to discern the origin of the hands. They unmistakably belonged to a woman. The subtle curvature, the slender fingers, and the gentle tapering all pointed to feminine hands. However, the rest of her figure remained tantalizingly elusive, a mere silhouette shrouded in shadow, leaving her face and finer details enshrouded in mystery.
A blend of intrigue and apprehension gripped Miles. The whole vision felt as though it tiptoed the line between the enigmatic and the truly horrifying.
But as swiftly as the vision had materialized, it evaporated, the ghostly domain following suit, leaving the world as it once was.
A realization hit Miles, “Gold, a material known to bind and seal spirits. Those hands, and their tragic state… Could they belong to a previous attempt by a ghost tamer to subdue this formidable spirit? But the lack of victory implies a grim fate.”
Considering the sheer potency of this ghostly entity, he pondered, “Such a formidable ghost couldn’t have been confronted by just one ghost tamer. This would have been a collective effort.”
The sobering implication settled in, “If this spirit remains unbound, it could very well signify the catastrophic failure of the mission, resulting in the demise of the entire team of ghost tamers.”
Miles took a moment, inhaling deeply to steady himself.
Who could have been audacious enough to orchestrate such a perilous endeavor? The arrogance to even attempt to ensnare a spirit of such magnitude was a testament to unparalleled courage or perhaps sheer folly.