As long as you have the courage, fierce ghosts go on maternity leave. Chapter 245: Descent into Chaos: The Tragic Downfall of Bus

A city bus pulled up gradually in front of Alexander and Edward. The bus was nondescript, mirroring the aesthetic of the city itself. Nothing about it seed particularly special.

The number "38" emblazoned on the front signaled that this was the very bus Alexander had been inquiring about while chatting with the Ghost Kings at the dining hall.

The bus was brimming with over twenty locals, packing it to the rafters.

"Could everyone please move further in? Shift towards the back!" A woman in her thirties, holding a green purse, called out loudly. Clearly, she was the ticket seller on the bus.

The vehicle itself felt like sothing out of the 1950s. The passengers too, dressed in more retro attire compared to the locals Alexander had previously encountered.

But that wasn’t surprising. The Cangshan City instance was a conundrum of cycles within cycles.

Take, for example, the apartnt complex Alexander had previously been in. It wasn’t just the suicidal family that was stuck in a loop; the whole housing area was a part of a larger repetitive cycle.

Similarly, Cangshan City itself was another colossal loop, spiraling into an infinity like Russian nesting dolls.

However, not all cycles are interdependent. There are those like the one concerning the old woman, which function as standalone loops.

So, stumbling upon an ancient brothel or a Roman-style coliseum in Cangshan City would not be out of the ordinary. Such cycles, by their self-contained nature, actually simplify things sowhat.

Given this understanding, neither Alexander nor Edward found the distinct styling of the bus surprising. Without a second thought, they boarded.

"Why are we still squeezing in? There’s no more room in the back!"

"Ticket seller, are you trying to crush us to death?"Complaints of discontent echoed through the bus.

"There’s still room; everyone, make so space for these two to get on! Who knows when the next bus will co!" The ticket seller yelled as she pulled Alexander and Edward onto the bus and motioned for them to move toward the back.

She then turned to Alexander and asked, "Which stop are you going to?"

"Take us to the final stop! How much does it cost?" Alexander inquired.

"Three ghost coins!"

This ti, the fare was rather standard, unlike the exorbitant rates on bus route 45.

After all, if all prices in Cangshan City were that inflated, even the Ghost Kings—let alone the Imperial—would find it difficult to afford anything.

"Are you also headed to the Cangshan Funeral Ho?" As Alexander and Edward handed over the fare, they stood next to a window because no seats were available. A middle-aged male ghost beside them curiously asked.

"Yes, we are. Are you also headed to the funeral ho? What a coincidence!" To avoid raising suspicion, Alexander quickly agreed.

Still, lacking adequate information had its drawbacks. Alexander’s response made the man’s eyebrows furrow, as he locked eyes with Alexander and Edward, his gaze icy. "You’re on this bus, and you don’t even know who ’we’ are?"

At his words, every local in the bus turned their gaze toward Alexander and Edward, eyes filled with caution. Clearly, if either of them answered incorrectly, these people would not hesitate to kill them both on the spot.

The use of "we" by the middle-aged man indicated that most of the passengers on this bus probably originated from the sa place. And given his earlier words, it appeared he was also headed to the funeral ho.

Linking these clues, if Alexander wasn’t mistaken... His thoughts began to race, his mind analyzing at lightning speed.

The bus’s final stop was the funeral ho, and considering the ti, most people on the bus were likely employees of the funeral ho.

Therefore, this particular route at this ti must be well-known, which would explain the middle-aged man’s suspicion toward Alexander.

"What’s the big deal about knowing? It’s just a job. I even have a friend who specializes in doing makeup for the deceased. One ti I was in a rush and had him do my makeup!" Alexander said nonchalantly.

"Really? That’s what I do!" The middle-aged ghost looked pleasantly surprised and even a bit excited, giving Alexander a thumbs-up. "But you sure have guts, man! Even I wouldn’t dare put makeup on myself; it always feels a bit eerie."

The atmosphere around Alexander seed to soften as he spoke; the hostility in the gazes of the surrounding passengers evaporated, replaced by a burgeoning sense of goodwill.

In no ti, Alexander found himself in genial conversation with the middle-aged man and other locals, subtly gleaning information from them as they spoke.

The majority of people in this line of work—funeral services—tend to be ostracized. ntion to soone that you work in a crematorium or a funeral ho, and most will instinctively distance themselves from you.

But Alexander’s apparent indifference won him their favor. His candid stories about sleeping in front of gravestones as a child made it clear he had no hang-ups about their profession.

This rapidly bridged the social gap, especially with this crowd who had felt sowhat inferior and timid due to societal prejudices. Alexander, audacious and taboo-free, even slightly ’foolish’ in their eyes, was one of them. So naturally, they beca an open book to him.

The middle-aged man even went on to complain about how busy they’ve been lately. A bus collided with an oil tanker, causing an explosion and a fire. The passengers were burned to charcoal, making it impossible to apply makeup; all they could do was try to stitch the fragnted bodies back together.

Just as they were deep in conversation, the bus ca to another halt.

This ti, standing at the bus stop were three young n dressed in leather jackets, shirts, sunglasses, and tallic necklaces. One had a full head of green hair, and the others sported voluminous and streaked blonde hair—standard thug attire.

Initially, the ticket seller didn’t notice them due to the crowded bus. Upon seeing their faces, however, her expression changed drastically, and she reached to close the door.

"What’s the matter? You’re not letting us on?" The young man with streaked blonde hair laughed mockingly as he leapt onto the bus. "Don’t you see the young master has arrived? Make so room!"

The passengers, obviously recognizing these young troublemakers, squeezed back to let them on.

The middle-aged n who had been happily conversing with Alexander, whose goodwill scores had soared well beyond 15, suddenly clamd up. Their faces turned grave, each absorbed in thoughts too dark to articulate.

In an atmosphere thick with tension, the bus continued on its journey.

"Didn’t you see co aboard? Make way!" hollered one young thug with a streak of yellow hair as he leapt onto the bus.

Recognizing the trio of troublemakers, the other passengers reluctantly moved aside to make room. Even those who had been engaged in lively conversation with Alexander and had ward up to him noticeably, now clamped their mouths shut, their faces etched with inscrutable emotions.

Confused, Alexander was about to inquire when he felt a tug on his clothing. He turned to find the ticket seller looking at him pleadingly.

The newly boarded thugs had positioned themselves nacingly around her; one of them, with a sleazy grin, was even pulling her skirt upward.

As their eyes t, the passengers around them averted their gaze. On instinct, Alexander began to raise his hand but was restrained by Edward.

"Don’t be rash," Edward cautioned in a hushed tone. Alexander realized he was right; given the mysterious nature of their environnt, even well-intentioned actions could backfire horribly.

As the bus moved on, the audacity of the trio escalated. One of them, with green hair, had even boldly slid his hand inside the ticket seller’s bra. Despite this, the other passengers appeared indifferent, so even seed excited by the unfolding drama.

The ticket seller’s eyes deepened with despair. A shared glance between Edward and Alexander spoke volus—they knew sothing terrible was about to happen.

Indeed, as the bus crossed a large bridge, the ticket seller abruptly bit the green-haired thug’s arm. His scream pierced the air as he withdrew his arm. In quick succession, she stomped on the toes of the two thugs who had been surrounding her.

"You wretched woman! I’ll kill you!"

"You think you’re pure? You have no idea what happened to the woman last month who ssed with us!" they spat out, as malice bubbled over into uncontrolled rage.

....

The three n, furious and swearing, lunged toward the ticket seller. She, however, bolted toward the front of the bus with surprising agility.

The passengers seated there, whether due to guilt or so other emotion, had been looking out the windows and were unprepared for the sudden turn of events.

The ticket seller squeezed past them, rushing to the driver’s seat. With a contorted expression on her otherwise pretty face, she violently gripped the driver’s neck with her arm.

The driver’s face turned crimson as he struggled for air, causing the bus to swerve erratically on the bridge.

"Are you insane?!"

"Let go! You’ll kill us all!"

Panic washed over the faces that were previously marred by indifference. Both the thugs and so nearby passengers hurried forward, straining to pull the ticket seller off the driver.

But her strength was unnervingly formidable. She kept her grip firm on the driver’s throat, unconcerned as her clothes were torn and her back scratched, leaving trails of blood.

Her face remained grotesquely contorted, veins bulging on her taut arm.

Crash!

With a resounding noise, the bus careened through the guardrail, plunging straight down from the bridge. It was then that Alexander realized the fate that had befallen the passengers of this cursed bus.

Thud!

The bus crashed into the water below, and began to sink slowly.

Panic swept through the bus as it sank. People were hysterical, pounding on the windows in a futile effort to escape, but the water pressure held the glass firmly in place.

Strangely, the ticket seller still mustered the strength to choke the life out of the driver.

The thugs and a couple of other passengers, sensing the impending doom, abandoned their attempts to restrain the ticket seller and rushed toward the bus doors. But the rapid current and water pressure made it nearly impossible to open them.

Oxygen levels inside the bus rapidly depleted, making breathing increasingly difficult for everyone.

Yet Edward and Alexander, the unusual participants in this ordeal, didn’t need to worry about such matters.

Edward didn’t require oxygen at all, while Alexander, thanks to his supernatural abilities, could survive underwater for an extended period.

Despite this, both n put on their best act, feigning heavy breathing to blend in with the desperate crowd.

"Ha-ha! You bunch of bastards deserve this, you really do! We all deserve to die, including , ha-ha!" The ticket seller, still gripping the driver’s neck, erupted into maniacal laughter.

As oxygen levels plumted, people’s vision began to blur. Torrential water flooded into the bus, creating whirlpools in the enclosed space.

Ironically, the ticket seller lost consciousness due to lack of oxygen, her grip loosening around the driver’s neck. She was swept away by the water current.

The bus tumbled on the riverbed, but the ticket seller floated to the surface of the river, unconscious. A faint white mist began to spread around the bus.

Alexander waited at the bottom of the river. When the mist thickened, he began the process of transforming the departed souls in the bus into ghost food.