Chapter 73: The Way to Survive
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Delving deep into the roots to uncover the secrets that lay hidden beneath has always been a natural instinct.
Currently, Miles’s most pressing concern is to stay alive and evade death at the hands of an awakening malevolent spirit.
Yet, even with the pressure he exerted on this man named Writing, Miles chose not to ask that question earlier. He understood that true fear needed to be instilled in these people. Only when they realized the true might and terror associated with a ghost tamer would they willingly divulge information. It’s all a game of psychological warfare.
“Is there a way to prevent the malevolent spirit from awakening?”
Writing, taken aback by the question at first, quickly recovered and laughed, “Such a method does exist. By some extraordinary twist of fate or perhaps divine intervention, there was a ghost tamer who survived an entire year without being consumed by the reawakening of the spirit inside.”
An entire year?
This revelation piqued Miles’s curiosity.
Based on his own estimates, the life expectancy of a ghost tamer is directly linked to how fast the spirit within reanimates. Even if a tamer refrains from tapping into the spirit’s powers, they would be lucky to live beyond six months. The more they use their powers, the faster the spirit comes back to life, thus reducing their lifespan even further.
However, the idea of a ghost tamer surviving over a year was astonishing. It was a phenomenon that defied understanding.
“What is this technique?” Miles demanded, his intense gaze never leaving Writing’s face.
“You might not like the answer,” Writing responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a rare anomaly. Perhaps only one in a thousand ghost tamers might have survived using that method. It’s hardly a reliable solution. But then again, people like you are destined for a fleeting existence. It’s only the spirit within you that’s kept you going this long.”
“I’ll be the judge of its feasibility. You have twenty seconds,” Miles said, indicating the ticking countdown on his phone.
“Life means so much to you, doesn’t it?” A chilling smile spread across Writing’s face, “Let’s strike a deal. We leave this place unharmed, and once safe, I promise to tell you everything.”
“You’re not in a position to negotiate. Ten seconds,” Miles responded, his voice unwavering, “Choose: to share what you know or stay silent. Whether you walk out of here is my decision.”
“Boss, for the love of God, just tell him! He’s unstable. Just look at the trail of bodies he’s left behind. His spirit might be close to awakening,” one of Writing’s men begged.
“We need to leave, boss. Let’s cut our losses. No more deals with ghost tamers,” another chimed in.
Writing’s silence was deafening against the backdrop of his team’s frantic appeals. The tension was palpable. Each tick of the countdown increased the anxiety levels of the men in the room. They realized they weren’t dealing with just a violent man, but with a ghost tamer whose powers were unparalleled.
“I can’t place my trust in you,” Writing proclaimed, his face twisting into a complex interplay of anger and resolve. “I’ll only divulge what I know when I’m sure of my safety. If not, we might all find ourselves in a catastrophe.” As he articulated his point, he surprisingly revealed a sinister-looking device, the purpose of which was clear – it was a threat.
Miles gave the device a cursory look, recognizing its lethal potential. “It’s impressive that your network is so vast and influential that you’ve managed to obtain such dangerous tools. But are you delusional enough to think that it will have any bearing on our situation?”
“Why not put that to the test? Miles, your reputation precedes you. Even if I spill everything, I have no assurances of leaving here alive. I’d rather bank on the unknown,” Writing shot back with a bold smirk.
“You underestimate me,” Miles retorted coolly. “You should realize that you aren’t my only source. Summit, whom I’ve already detained, can provide what I seek.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Writing’s face at this revelation.
Cursing himself silently for his oversight, Writing remembered that Summit’s capture complicated things. If Summit had indeed been captured, then Miles had another avenue to the coveted information.
“That incompetent imbecile. Not only did he botch his task, but he’s also ensnared me in this perilous situation,” Writing seethed internally, though he chose to hold back his frustrations verbally.
After a moment’s reflection, he capitulated, “Alright, I’ll share what I possess. Whether you choose to accept it as truth is your prerogative.”
“Proceed,” Miles urged.
Drawing a deep breath, Writing began, “From all the intel I’ve amassed, the doom of a ghost tamer, overwhelmed by the ghost’s rebirth, is inescapable. To my knowledge, no one has discovered a way to halt it completely. Yet, there exists a radical method believed to prolong the ghost tamer’s existence.”
“Continue.”
With a hint of reluctance, Writing went on, “There’s a hypothesis that one ghost might neutralize another. There was this particular individual, cornered by the threat of the ghost’s reawakening, who, in desperation, allowed a second ghost to possess him.”
“Managing two spirits concurrently?” Miles inquired, intrigued. “Such a venture would surely expedite one’s end.”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Writing conceded. “However, there’s a speculative outcome that the two entities might neutralize each other, resulting in a fragile equilibrium. This balance could potentially decelerate the ghost’s resurgence.”
Laughing softly, Miles remarked, “A dangerous and intriguing strategy. To court life while dancing on the precipice of destruction? It sounds like the act of a desperate or deranged individual. Yet, it seems he pulled it off.”
“He did,” Writing affirmed. “But he remains an exception. Numerous ghost tamers across the globe attempted to emulate this feat. However, every single attempt ended in tragic failure.”
He then added gravely, “That’s precisely why his success is viewed as an aberration. Many powers are privy to this method, but the knowledge is heavily guarded, relegated to the realms of top-secret information.”
“It’s classified as ‘top secret’, huh? I presume the governing bodies fear that if this method becomes common knowledge among ghost tamers, there will be a surge in desperate attempts to utilize it. If it results in accelerated deaths, the dwindling number of ghost tamers could destabilize national security structures,” Miles surmised.
As the thought unraveled in Miles’s head, he grasped the gravity of the state’s decision. Ghost tamers, who were already living on borrowed time, might see this method as a beacon of hope despite the potential risks. Such a large-scale loss would undeniably disrupt the nation’s fabric, making information concealment a strategic imperative.
“How you piece things together is your forte. I’ve only shared what I know. The real question now is, after hearing about it, would you be audacious enough to give it a shot?” Writing taunted.
“I’ll weigh my options,” Miles replied contemplatively. On the surface, the method might seem straightforward, but the underlying dangers were immense. Which ghost tamer in their right mind would willingly allow another ghost into their being? If the equilibrium wasn’t achieved and the two spirits did not counterbalance each other, the immediate consequence would be certain death. Still, in the face of unavoidable doom, this could be a final gambit.
“It’s a high-stakes gamble: supreme victory or a devastating descent,” Miles internally reflected.
Having provided his intel, Writing pressed, “Am I free to go now?”
Miles’s gaze shifted to the phone resting on the table as he rose from his seat. “I pride myself on being true to my word. You’ve delivered on your end, and ordinarily, I’d grant you your freedom. But, unfortunately for you, your time has run its course.” Indicating the countdown on the phone, now showing no remaining time, he continued, “I suggest all three of you take your leave simultaneously.”
Then, with a playful tone, Miles jested, “By the way, are you certain that object you’re clutching is truly a lethal device? Or could it merely be a harmless Kinder Egg?”
The blood drained from Writing’s face as he realized that what he held was no longer the dangerous tool but a child’s toy – a Kinder Egg.
“You deceptive fiend!” With a blend of astonishment and fury, Writing lunged at Miles, brandishing the small toy contained within the egg as a weapon.
It was evident now that Miles had orchestrated the entire situation from the outset. Upon entering the room, they were already ensnared in his web. His only objective had been to extract information; he never had plans to set them free.
“Farewell,” Miles jeered, his face adorned with a triumphant smirk.
A brief crimson flash engulfed the room, followed by a sudden shift in reality. Gone were the lifeless bodies on the floor, the man entwined in the wall, and Writing’s two companions. Even Writing, in mid-assault, evaporated, leaving behind just the gleaming toy.
The ambiance of the living room remained unchanged. Yet, there was no trace of the earlier occupants. Apart from a few miscellaneous items, it seemed as though they had been erased from existence altogether.