Chapter 78: The Cockroach Club
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Deep inside, Miles felt a pang of disappointment that was impossible to ignore.
“Why is it that every time I try, Page refuses to meet his end?”
It was oddly reminiscent of Ethan’s situation. Yet, when Miles set his eyes on Page, the differences became quite apparent. Page’s limbs were contorted in an unnatural manner, decayed to the point where a putrid odor filled the air, with a dark, decaying liquid seeping out from him. Compared to Ethan, Page’s condition was unmistakably more severe.
Such was the fate of a ghost tamer on the verge of death, brought about by the wrath of a resurrected vengeful spirit.
Miles curiously pondered, “Is there any true way to kill a ghost tamer? It appears that golden weapons can wound but not finish them off.” He crouched down next to the grotesque form of Page, prodding the decaying mass with a golden baton.
The horrifying state Page was in was evident: his skull was split open, limbs shattered and contorted in unthinkable ways, and his face was beyond recognition. Internally, most of his organs seemed to have decayed, turned black, and exuded a nauseating stench.
Yet, astonishingly, Page retained the ability to talk and exhibit signs of life. It was an inexplicable phenomenon that could be a candidate for a medical anomaly.
After a moment of eerie silence, Page rasped, “You can’t end me. My ghost is unique.”
Interrupting their grim exchange, another voice piped up. “Miles, know your limits. This is a club, and Page isn’t the only ghost tamer present. Be mindful of your actions,” scolded a man who had shared a drink with Page earlier. He walked over, wearing an unmistakable look of disapproval.
Seeing the newcomer, Miles couldn’t help but smirk, “Now I see the reason you elder ghost tamers try to manipulate the newcomers.”
“Is it because you’re all on the edge of death?”
“You’ve overused your abilities to the point where invoking them a few more times could lead to your end, thanks to the vengeful spirits. So, you lurk in this club, preying on newbies. You force the newcomers to deal with the supernatural, then gang up on them to squeeze money out of the operations, all the while ensuring you don’t strain your own powers.”
“Clever tactic. Was Ethan one of your victims?”
The man’s face tensed up. The unspoken agreement among club members was known to all, but none dared to speak of it openly. Yet, here was Miles, confronting the reality of their situation.
“Since you’re in the know, you’d best comply. You might be fresh now, but the vengeful spirits will come for you too. When that time comes and new members arrive, you’ll want to exploit the same benefits. Let’s move past the incident with Page, but our agreement on the 50% share remains.”
He then added with a threatening undertone, “Unless, of course, you believe you can defeat every ghost tamer present.”
Miles shot him a sharp look. “Are you trying to goad me?”
“Consider it a challenge if you like,” the man retorted.
From a corner of the room, a figure named Stretch intervened, “Young one, I’d advise you to respect our rules. The ghost tamers here are just the tip of the iceberg. More formidable ones didn’t make it today. The world of ghost tamers is vast and intricate. Your understanding of ghost tamers, vengeful spirits, and everything in-between might be limited.”
“But always bear this in mind,” a voice from the crowd started, the tone heavy with a mix of disdain and caution, “No matter how you see yourself, in our eyes, you’re still the greenhorn here.”
“Why are we wasting our time on words?” Miles retorted, exasperation evident in his tone. “If you’re looking for a confrontation, step forward.”
Miles’s features were twisted into a ferocious snarl. His eyes had taken on a haunting reddish tint, reflecting the dim light as he assessed his potential adversaries before him.
“Just so you all know, even if I can’t triumph over each one of you, if I can prolong the fight till your ghosts rise in vengeance, victory will be mine.”
His unique ability to the ghost domain had a time limit of five minutes. Pushing past that window drastically increased the odds of the ghost turning on him. Crossing that threshold meant death. However, he was convinced that this group in front of him wouldn’t withstand him for a mere five minutes.
Had he failed to intimidate them?
These battle-hardened veterans mixed with the less seasoned made for an unpredictable and daunting group.
An oppressive silence enveloped the gathering.
Indeed, a drawn-out battle would expose them to the very real danger of their vengeful ghosts rising against them.
Lifting an eyebrow, Miles smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Cat got your tongue? Are the mighty ones of this place afraid? Or perhaps, you don’t have the guts to give it your all?”
This is ridiculous. If they had the nerve to face such risks, they’d be out there confronting supernatural threats rather than lounging around here, getting drunk and picking on newcomers.
“If you’ve got no spine to fight, then shut it. Take your chatter elsewhere,” Miles declared dismissively. With a forceful kick, he unceremoniously pushed Page’s corpse out of his path.
“This punk’s audacity knows no bounds,” a member of the crowd muttered, face darkening as he watched Page treated with such disregard.
He looked like he was about to jump into the fray, but then thought better of it. Going head-to-head against this newbie might not be the smartest choice.
Out of nowhere, there was a sound of slow, deliberate clapping. All eyes turned to a casually dressed young man. Every aspect of him screamed wealth, from his designer attire to the confident stride. Though he sported a mild smile, there was a distinct chill in his gaze.
“Quite the spectacle! So, you’re the infamous Miles that Ethan brought into the fold? Color me impressed,” the young man remarked, amusement evident.
Casting a scrutinizing glance over the newcomer, Miles inquired, “And who might you be? Another elder here to lecture the ‘greenhorn’?”
The young man laughed, a sound both light and slightly eerie. “Oh no, you misunderstand. I merely oversee this establishment. My name’s Cockroach, but you can simply refer to me as such.”
Miles raised an eyebrow, “Really? Cockroach? You chose that for a moniker?”
With a chuckle, Cockroach responded, “No tricks or jokes here. I go by that name sincerely.” He then extended a hand, presenting a gleaming golden business card.
Considering the extravagance of a pure gold business card, this club must be swimming in money.
“Cockroach Club, Chairman: Cockroach.”
Brushing off the earlier tension, Cockroach suggested, “Look, despite the recent unpleasantness, there’s a saying that a smile can mend old rifts. We are all exceptional in our own right. Getting worked up over minor disputes seems rather petty, doesn’t it? How about we bury the hatchet and pretend today’s incident never occurred?”
Miles met Cockroach’s gaze with a sharp, critical look. “Quite the diplomat you’ve turned into now,” he remarked coldly. “Where was this peace-making spirit when these lot were picking on me?”
For a brief moment, the confident demeanor on Cockroach’s face wavered.
Without another word, Miles flicked the golden business card back towards him, showing his clear displeasure.
“Your club management seems rather one-sided and inept,” he commented pointedly. “Given your direction, or lack thereof, I doubt your little club has a bright future. I came in intrigued by the idea of the ‘Cockroach Club,’ but all I’ve witnessed is a hub of pettiness and corruption.”
The root of the problem was glaringly clear to him: these people were narrow-minded.
Engrossed in their petty squabbles and short-term gains, they had lost sight of the overarching goal. Instead of banding together to find a solution to the looming threat of the vengeful ghost resurrections, they preferred to indulge in idle chatter, alcohol, and petty power plays against newcomers.
This wasn’t the kind of group that was built to last.
After seeing the club’s true colors, Miles felt more inclined towards the Ghost Tamers HQ. However, that decision was contingent on finding a solution to the ever-present threat of the ghost’s resurrection. Joining HQ without addressing this issue would simply mean he’d be sent on riskier assignments, accelerating his potential downfall.
Cockroach’s eyes settled on the card lying discarded between them, the light of his smile dimming further.
“My goal when I founded this club was to unite all the independent ghost tamers,” he began, his voice firm yet carrying a hint of vulnerability. “By joining forces, we could bolster our strengths, pool our resources, confront challenges collectively, and offer mutual support. My intentions were noble. I hope a few missteps by individuals won’t lead you to judge the entire club.”
“So, are you suggesting that members can’t voice concerns or criticisms?” Miles shot back, challenging him.
Cockroach raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We’re not a totalitarian regime here. Everyone’s voice matters.”
Miles smirked, “Then I assume you’ll excuse yourself? There are matters I need to discuss.” He motioned behind Cockroach.
Curious, Cockroach turned to find Ethan ushering in a group of impeccably dressed individuals – the sort you’d expect from the world of finance. Leading the group was a stern-looking middle-aged woman in a crisp white blazer, trailed by a retinue of what seemed to be accountants and financial consultants.
Ethan, gesturing towards the approaching woman, introduced her, “Miss Sun, allow me to present Miles. He has precisely what you’ve been looking for.”
The woman stepped forward, extending her hand, “Greetings, Mr. Miles. I’m Sun, the primary overseer of this acquisition initiative.”
Miles nodded curtly, “Miles.”
Ethan’s eyes darted to the grotesquely sprawled body of Page next to them, and his brows furrowed, “What happened here in my absence?”
Miles waved a dismissive hand, feigning nonchalance, “Oh, just a minor incident. Seems Page had one too many and took a rather graceless tumble. Maybe he’s been neglecting his health or something. The fall left him in this state. I thought it best not to intervene – didn’t want any false allegations thrown my way.”
Ethan, eyeing Page’s fallen form, asked with evident concern, “Such a nasty fall he had. Did anyone think to call for medical assistance?”
Shrugging, Miles responded, “Didn’t see the need. Looks more like a superficial wound to me. A bit of antiseptic and a bandage should do the trick. An ambulance seemed a bit excessive for this.”
Ethan let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “That’s good to hear,” he remarked, a weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders.
Sun, however, cast a more scrutinizing gaze around the room. Her eyes settled on the assortment of weapons displayed on the coffee table, with particular attention given to a club smeared with traces of blood and flesh.
From her perspective, the scene suggested something far more sinister than a simple trip and fall.
The fact that someone could endure such brutality and still be in one piece was bewildering.
Interactions with ghost tamers were proving to be chilling encounters. Each additional minute in their presence made her skin crawl with unease.
Despite the whirlwind of revulsion and apprehension stirring inside her, Sun maintained a calm and composed exterior, not letting her internal turmoil show.