This guy nad Song Chu-shi, why did he feel so strange?
After parting at the entrance of the wonton shop, Han Su still accepted that voice recorder.
He took the bus back to the place he rented, locked the outer security door tightly, and also drew the curtains shut over the narrow little window.
Though he wasn’t afraid of the bounty posted on the Black Table, he had to be cautious of the potential trouble it might bring him.
He didn’t want soone suddenly breaking into his room in the middle of the night, holding a knife to his neck, and slowly telling him to cooperate with so kind of investigation.
Nor did he want soone sneaking in at night to install wiretaps or caras, snooping through his browsing history.
Those self-proclaid clever private detectives and bounty hunters who would do anything for money—those tiny brains of theirs could co up with anything, and one sudden whim could make his life a ss.
“Cape Harbor... fishern... spell...”
He made as many arrangents as he could and even set up a few small traps before finally opening his second-hand laptop and began searching a few keywords.
Compared to the bounty on the Black Table, Song Chu-shi gave him a more complicated feeling.
That guy looked tired, worn out, and disheveled, but when he got serious, those long narrow eyes emitted an unusual air of danger.
Having escaped from that monster-filled place countless tis, Han Su had beco very sensitive to danger, and the spell that man left behind stirred a strange sense of intrigue within him.
Could there really be such a logic of contact in esotericism?
And he just happened to find a spell capable of activating that remnant mysterious power to verify the possibility of so phenonon?
Thinking silently, he took out the voice recorder from his bag and examined it carefully.
Nothing seed wrong with the recorder itself, but the vigilance in Han Su’s heart could not be dispelled so easily.
Back when that case happened, the reactions of the victims’ families were varied, but overall, most of them were suspicious, so even hostile toward him.
Now thinking back on it, it was rather funny—those who scread the loudest back then were the quickest to let it go.
On the contrary, it was the CEO of Magic Box Corporation and people like Song Chu-shi, who seed reserved and restrained from the start, who had never let it go even after all these years.
But regardless of whether the spell was real or fake, Han Su had to make so preparations first.
Very soon, as the keywords were entered into the brand-new second-hand computer, a series of pages and news reports popped up.
Han Su read slowly and quickly gained a fair understanding of the fishing port, which was geographically remote.
Located in the southwestern part of the Eastern District, it was a fishing port steeped in esotericism and religious atmosphere, where a case of people being burned alive once occurred.
The local residents were highly xenophobic.
To outsiders, there was always sothing eerie about them.
Even a simple search turned up many strangely shaped statues and baffling churches.
As he scrolled down with the mouse, the biggest news article he saw was about the local fishern who claid to have been attacked by sea demons along the coast.
The incident resulted in seven deaths and twenty-three injuries, and the destruction of a church and countless hos.
However, the article provided an explanation:
Following an investigation by the Public Security Bureau, it was confird to be nothing more than a gang of arms smugglers clashing with each other.
Everything seed airtight.
Putting on his headphones, Han Su imported the audio from the voice recorder into his computer and opened the chat window with the Black Rose Avatar.
【Are you there?】
【Speak!】
【There’s a spell. Could you listen and see if you can find its origin?】
【......】
【It’s a spell the fishern of Cape Harbor used to worship the sea demons. Since when did you beco interested in this stuff?】
【......】
Han Su paused for a mont and said: 【A friend gave this spell. He said it could activate so mysterious power!】
The other party seed to get serious, probably flipping through so references, and only after a long ti did a reply co back:
【What nonsense is this?】
【I found it in so references. It seems like a normal spell. A few characters are indecipherable, but the general aning is still readable.】
【It ans: The gods descend with a revelation!】
【From a folk perspective, this is rely the language used by Cape Harbor fishern during rituals.】
【They believe this language can be heard by the gods, granting them the courage to brave the waves—there’s no such thing as activating mysterious powers.】
【......】
The voice was heavy and powerful, shouted out with a rising and falling tone, accompanied by heavy stomping sounds, giving off a rustic and ancient feeling.
It was just like the fishing chants sung by fishern at the harbor when heading out to sea.
The spell seed to be in the sa language as his own, only far too ancient, with strange pronunciations, making it sound mysterious and bizarre.
Han Su listened and listened, then suddenly began to chant slowly.
He chanted the words “The gods descend with a revelation,” but because he was too focused, his thoughts too intense, it was as if sothing stirred within his spirit or tense nerves, causing the tip of his tongue to slightly twist.
At the very mont those simple words were spoken, they suddenly transford into a mysterious and indistinct language, different from what he usually spoke, and oddly similar in sound and rhythm to the voice recorder’s playback.
It flowed smoothly and naturally, without the obscurity or difficulty that Black Rose had described—just a flicker of thought, and the spell flowed out from his tongue completely.
In a daze, he felt that as he recited the spell, his body experienced a mont of weightlessness, as if so invisible force had suddenly wrapped around him, dragging him into another world.
He saw behind layers of space, countless tall and blurry shadows surrounding him, slowly opening their eyes as the spell echoed.
Han Su felt their gaze and looked up, like an ant raising its head to the sky, facing a mysterious and unknown overlook.
Eye to eye.
Han Su’s heart suddenly beca incomparably calm.
As if everything was receding, but then ca a vast ocean in his mind.
It was difficult to describe that instant—a strange and mystical sensation.
Han Su only felt that his thoughts, his spirit, suddenly took on a tangible form.
Like an ocean so clear it was nearly invisible, where one could see the bottom at a glance.
But the spell he uttered stirred waves, making the invisible water ripple, and thus visible to the naked eye.
He almost instinctively knew what it was.
It was spirit—his own spiritual power, always present and ever-accompanying, yet normally difficult to perceive—until it began to stir.
And once it stirred, it needed an outlet.
Han Su didn’t know if his spiritual power was stronger than others’, or what else was going on, but he only felt his brain surging violently.
That rampant ocean was crashing back and forth inside his head, churning up terrifying waves.
But just as it was about to burst out of his skull, it was pressed back in by “himself,” or rather, by his body.
Vaguely, Han Su seed to understand the reason:
Spirit does not belong to reality, so while it can affect reality, it’s not allowed to directly enter it.
This was a rule.
But that rule’s restraint on the spirit persisted—until the spiritual power reached his right eye, and suddenly a real, searing pain rose from that long-dead eye.
For a mont, Han Su even thought his right eye had exploded.
Because the violent impact hurt more than a full-force punch—it was as if the punch ca from inside his head, striking outward.
Countless illusions appeared at that mont, like the stars seen after a hit, or like nurous distorted images flashing before Han Su’s eyes.
He seed to see a giant.
It looked just like the one in the ancient castle, only much larger—so large its full form could hardly be seen with the naked eye.
When it stood up, it was nearly as tall as mountains, exceeding the bounds of reality.
When it sat, the black, flare-covered sun was eclipsed behind it, and the shadow it cast could seemingly blanket an entire nation.
Countless ragged people bowed before it.
Countless altars of bizarre design were built for it, and nurous poems and offerings were arranged around it.
The sensation of mystery and madness surged from those fleeting scenes, overwhelming Han Su instantly.
But the illusion flickered only a few tis before vanishing abruptly, like a power cut.
The surge of spiritual energy that had crashed into his right eye was once again forced back by the rule that “spirit is not allowed to materialize directly in reality.”
For a mont, Han Su’s head felt as if it had been shredded—his thoughts, mory, and spirit completely lost control, surging like a raging sea.
He was frozen in place, unable to move, allowing the sea to passively settle.
“I...”
He didn’t know how much ti had passed before the intense dizziness finally faded.
Dazed, he raised his head and slowly lowered the hand covering his right eye, trying to open it.
“Still can’t see?”
“But this spell, this spell...”
Han Su sat there quietly, but his thoughts surged like a tide, difficult to contain.
The spell worked.
But why did nothing appear in my eye?
Following Song Chu-shi’s logic, if this could really activate so mysterious power, couldn’t it be used to prove the existence of monsters to others?
But now, it seed different from what he expected—there was no external change at all.
Internally, in his own perception, his head—or his brain—had already undergone a kind of mad tornt.
The oceanic spiritual power in his mind was being restricted by the rule, unable to enter reality.
His right eye seed like a breach—but it had not opened...
If it did open, would that be enough?
Should I try again?
The thought was so strong.
But suddenly recalling the intense pain and dizziness from just now, he held back.
That pain—if described vividly—was like being struck hard with an eighty-pound hamr.
And from the inside out.
Or rather, it was like brutally tearing open the scar that had healed over his right eye for ten years.
“I’m still a bit scared of pain...”
Han Su admitted he wasn’t tough: “So at the very least, I need to bite on a towel before trying again.”
He stood up, fetched a towel from the bathroom, and unintentionally glanced into the mirror—he saw his scarred right eye, not yet open, but vaguely oozing what looked like blood.
Han Su stared and stared, then suddenly grinned.
His mood, in that mont, soared with joy.
“Bleeding from the eye—that’s a good sign.”
“Whose blind eye, after ten years, starts bleeding for no reason?”
“That only proves the spell works—because I recited it, this eye reacted.”
“……”
Biting the towel, sitting on the stool, Han Su touched his eye and, almost unable to wait, like a masochist, prepared to begin the second attempt.
“Hmm?”
But just then, a cold and ghostly wind blew in through the window behind him.
Han Su paused slightly and looked at the window, a sense of surprise rising in his heart.
“I thought I closed that window just now?”
But now, that window was wide open, and the cold wind passed through, gently lifting the curtain, which then slowly fell again.
Han Su stared blankly at the window for a long, long ti, until suddenly goosebumps covered his body.
He didn’t know how to describe the feeling—clearly, from where he stood, the dark night sky outside showed only cold house lights and strange neon glows.
Yet sohow, it felt as if sothing had suddenly fixed its gaze on him—a creepy and unsettling feeling instantly surged, and he stood up.
This sensation—it was just like when the monsters in the ancient castle stared at him.
He was familiar with this feeling.
But now, wasn’t he in the real world, in the present...?
“No... I was happy too early...”
He paused for a mont before suddenly recalling what Black Rose had warned him about earlier.
If the spell was fake, it wouldn’t be scary.
What was scary was if it were real—then whether it could activate sothing was uncertain, but the first person to recite it would definitely undergo so change.
Either so crisis caused by life being forcibly distorted—
Or the attention of so unknown entity?
“Sigh...”
The night deepened, the surroundings grew quieter, and Han Su sat silently, staring out the window.
That creepy feeling in his heart grew stronger and stronger—as if so kind of monster was crouched just outside, ready to crawl in at any mont.
Inside the ancient castle, those monsters were visible—Han Su could at least think rationally about whether to run or hide.
But this ti, it was happening in reality, in the present mont.
Han Su couldn’t see them, but he could feel sothing drawing closer, sothing beginning to take effect—he knew it, yet couldn’t see it, and that tension made his body stiffen.
“Ding-ling-ling!”
Just as he was fully alert, the phone beside him suddenly rang.
In the dead silence, it gave Han Su a fright.
That creepy feeling in his heart instantly faded—his dazed mind even wondered if it had all been an illusion.
Looking down, it was Xu Ji.
“Old Han, Old Han?”
As he answered the call, a cry ca through the receiver: “Help...!”
Hearing Xu Ji’s cries, Han Su jolted upright and said, “What’s wrong?”
Xu Ji’s shout followed instantly through the speaker: “Too many beautiful girls here, I can’t handle it—co help out with a couple!”
“？”
Han Su froze for a few seconds before realizing what had happened and nearly slamd the phone down.
Through clenched teeth: “That idiot!!”
“……”
At that mont, Xu Ji’s voice ca through the phone again: “Haha, just ssing with you—I’m downstairs at your place, co down!”
“Alright!”
Han Su glanced out the window and coldly instructed, “Don’t move—I’m bringing a knife!”
Reviews
All reviews (0)