Chapter 74: Retaliation
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Ethan lay sprawled on the cold floor, his gaze fixed on the fading silhouettes of Writing and his crew as they made their exit. His heart thudded with shock, his eyes widening in disbelief as he tried to piece together the events that had transpired. He glanced towards Miles, seeking some clarity or reassurance, only to be met with a somewhat amusing scene.
Miles was comfortably settled on a plush couch, his fingers delicately holding onto a Kinder Joy chocolate egg. He looked completely relaxed, savoring the treat with his hand. The playful shimmer in his eyes starkly contrasted the gravity of the situation.
“Really, Ethan? For all your grand claims of being able to control the ghostly world, you got knocked down and humiliated by mere humans,” Miles chided in jest. “If this gets out, think about the damage to my esteemed reputation.”
He plucked off some chocolate, and with a grin, offered it to Ethan. “Fancy some? It’s rich and delicious.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed in exasperation. “How about you free me before offering treats?” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Miles leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. “Patience. I just need to ensure that whatever dormant power resides within me remains calm. I wouldn’t want any… adverse reactions upon contact with your blood.”
Although he seemed to enjoy the creamy chocolate, Miles was battling an internal turmoil. He felt a peculiar wriggle inside him as if a watchful eye was becoming restless, and a dark force was on the brink of eruption. The sensation was unsettling, reminiscent of an angry spirit struggling to break free.
Miles’s gaze settled on a piece of red paper scattered on the ground. “The potency of this red paper is fading fast. If I’m to suppress this awakening spirit within me, I need the more powerful red newspaper, currently held by that elusive ghost,” he mused. “Yet tracking a ghost in a vast city like Dachang is akin to finding a needle in a haystack.”
He sighed, “This paper was but a mere vessel. Its true strength lay in the ghostly essence it contained, which kept my dormant spirit at bay. But after repeated usage, its power waned, rendering it ineffective.”
He looked distant for a moment, his gaze introspective. “Writing was right. One ghost can indeed suppress another, just like Ethan can subdue the headless shadow ghost. Yet, there are numerous variables at play here, making the outcome unpredictable.”
His musings were abruptly interrupted as a sharp, searing pain erupted in his chest. Miles’s face contorted in agony as a grotesque crimson eye forced its way out, marking the seventh such eye on his body.
“Not now,” he gasped, pain evident in his voice.
Ethan’s heart pounded faster, anxiety taking hold. “If you’re undergoing this transformation, at least free me before that happens! I don’t want to be trapped here with whatever spirit you’re harboring.”
Miles, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, managed to respond, “This isn’t my end. But the barriers I put up are collapsing. I fear my full awakening is imminent, perhaps within the coming month.”
Miles’s voice held a touch of awe as he remarked, “The might of a ghost capable of manifesting a realm of the dead is truly unparalleled.”
He paused, lost in thought. “I’ve invoked this ghost domain only a few times. Yet, in these instances, the protective powers of the red paper failed, giving rise to another eye.”
As the days rolled on, the urgency of Miles’s impending transformation would intensify at an alarming rate.
Visibly weighed down by guilt, Ethan murmured, “I truly am sorry. If I hadn’t slipped up on my end, things wouldn’t have spiraled so drastically for you.”
This was no exaggeration. Ethan’s missteps had inadvertently pushed Miles to tap into his powers more than he might have intended.
Miles, attempting to find his feet but swaying a little, responded, “Come on, Ethan. Do you really think this was your doing? I made the conscious decision to come here and use my powers. I’m not some naive child; I’m well aware of the consequences of my choices.” He picked up a baton that lay nearby and proceeded to delicately remove the nails embedded in Ethan’s hands.
“And let’s be real,” Miles continued, “Trouble has a way of finding me. By confronting Writing and his cronies now, I’m preventing future complications. Imagine if they decided to target my family as leverage against me. Things would get even murkier. If danger is inevitable in my path, I’d rather face it head-on.”
Once the final nail was extricated, Ethan managed to stand, blood staining his clothes. Astonishingly, the injuries that riddled his body began to close up at an accelerated pace.
Miles watched this remarkable healing process, commenting, “This regeneration must be a byproduct of your unique ghost blood. It’s clear now why Writing’s numerous attempts on your life never succeeded.”
Miles reached into his pocket, retrieving a cellphone. It belonged to Writing. “I need to make some calls to those from your club,” he declared. He gestured to the phone, his voice taking on a chilling tone, “No one saved in this phone will escape my wrath. Any potential threat to my family will be eradicated. You know the old adage – ‘to ensure a weed never grows back, you rip it out by its roots’? I’m thinking bigger. I aim to decimate the very earth it stems from. Everyone saved in this device has some link to our shadowy underworld. Innocence of a few isn’t my concern.”
His resolve was unwavering, and his eyes began to glow a sinister shade of red. “I’d rather mistakenly eliminate a few than risk leaving an adversary alive. Their survival would only spell doom for our loved ones.”
Ethan, eyebrows raised, posed a challenge, “That’s a grand ambition. But considering the state we’re in, are you sure we can rely on the spirits’ might much longer?”
He could discern the growing bond between Miles and the vengeful spirit. While he didn’t entirely oppose Miles’s brutal strategy, he felt the complexity of the situation, especially with Writing’s employer still at large.
Miles, with a knowing grin, replied, “Ever heard of the strategy ‘kill with a borrowed knife’?”
He went on, “There’s a particular spirit I’m aware of, one of great malice. My plan is to unleash it on those listed in this phone. If they can endure its wrath, they truly have luck on their side.”
Ethan’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “You’ve learned to control that spirit?”
Miles gave a modest nod, “More or less, yes.”
Ethan stared back, a mix of admiration and shock etched on his face.
Much to Ethan’s astonishment, Miles harbored a skill that remained hidden from many. The sheer capability of accessing the ghost domain was alarming in itself. But what was even more astounding was Miles’s adeptness at summoning and commanding other spirits to do his bidding.
However, a minor hiccup arose as Miles attempted to access the contents of Writing’s phone. “There’s a password,” he noted with slight annoyance, the screen glaring back at him, demanding authentication.
Ethan’s brow furrowed, “So, what’s the next move?”
Without missing a beat, Miles replied, “Don’t worry about it. I’m acquainted with a phone shop owner who’s adept at bypassing such barriers. I’ll get this sorted. In the meantime, you should touch base with the potential buyer.”
Ethan, feeling the weight of the situation, voiced his concerns, “Wait a minute. Are you seriously considering selling that ghost? Writing had once alluded to the possibility that harnessing the power of two spirits could potentially extend one’s resurrection period. Given the ordeal we underwent to secure this headless apparition, shouldn’t we explore that avenue?”
With a sly grin, Miles clarified, “Oh, I’ve mulled over that option. I don’t intend to part with the authentic spirit; I plan to dupe the buyer with a decoy.” His playful demeanor shifted to one of gravity. “This isn’t a mere money-making venture. This is about leveraging an opening to procure something otherwise out of reach. Writing’s insight is still quite hazy, without concrete steps to follow. You’re not seriously pondering over experimenting with the headless spirit, are you? If it were to possess you, it could unleash a far more formidable force by merging with the other spirit within you.”
Ethan’s cheeks reddened slightly, “I admit, I hadn’t quite considered the broader implications.”
Miles sighed, “Success isn’t stumbled upon; it’s a result of rigorous research. And with research come patterns. Recognizing these patterns will pave the way for a meticulous plan. The spirit in our custody is our ace up the sleeve, a tool to negotiate for a more definitive method. While we’re racing against time, it’s not a dire countdown, not yet.”
After a contemplative pause, Miles inquired, “How soon can you get in touch with the buyer?”
Ethan responded, “Tomorrow night at the latest.”
Miles nodded in agreement, “Sounds good. I’ll be expecting your call.”
As Miles collected his belongings, including a golden baton and the gun discarded by Writing, he prepared to make his exit. But not before offering a stark piece of advice to Ethan, “If you botch this up again, don’t even think about reaching out to me. You’d be left to your own devices, a mess for others to handle.”