Listening to Feng Xue’s statent, everyone felt that there was sothing off about this person, but at the sa ti, they inexplicably relaxed a bit because, at that mont, they suddenly thought that the fire pot dish on the table probably wasn’t his doing.
Or to put it another way, no one could have turned a corpse into such a "delicious" presentation in such a short amount of ti.
However, perhaps due to the overwhelming allure of the hotpot, it was not until now that people noticed the spirit plaque surrounded by brain flowers, cattle throat, and stomach slices at the center of the round table.
"City God Temple ghost? Could it be that this is the identity of the ghost possessed by the red-faced man? So, are these actually offerings made by the ghost for itself?"
The beer-bellied student exclaid in shock, but Feng Xue, with her keenness, noticed that he seed to want to cover up his sowhat obvious swallowing gesture with that sowhat exaggerated exclamation.
Regardless of what the student was hiding, his words indeed caught everyone’s attention, and after so contemplation, they felt this must be the truth.
After all, based on the way that woman died before, ghosts should choose the sa manner of death as their own, no matter what the reason, and it shouldn’t be made so... well, refined.
Unless the ghost had been turned into such a dish while still alive.
But looking at the characteristics of the red-faced man’s appearance, he did not seem to be that kind of ghost.
Seeing through everything, Feng Xue didn’t say anything, but gently caressed the steel pen in her hand.
The pen spirit, already in tune with her, popped out its head, no nonsense, and directly asked:
"What do you want to ask now?"
"Look at that spirit plaque, how many spiritual bodies are inside?"
Feng Xue maintained her habitual pen-spinning motion, allowing the pen spirit’s head, spinning like a propeller, to look towards the spirit plaque. Lucky for the pen spirit, it had no concept of dizziness; after a glance, it replied:
"One."
"One? What kind of ghost?" Feng Xuexin inwardly sighed, knowing it would be so, and pressed on.
The pen spirit paused a bit longer this ti before answering:
"It’s a red-faced fried ghost, not a fried dough stick; more like one who was alive and then directly thrown into a frying pot—that kind of feeling. Its death was extrely tragic; now it is mixing with the incense and eating offerings. You got such a subordinate; it’s really too disgusting for ghosts, isn’t it?"
"Red Demon? It’s not a hanged ghost?" Feng Xue was quite surprised, but at the sa ti, she had so theories about why things went south so quickly.
"What are you muttering about? Did you find sothing?" Apparently thinking that he would definitely be the next to die, the green-faced man completely let go of any inhibitions. Hearing this, Feng Xue simply pointed at the open skull of the dead man and said:
"I’m just very curious about how beautifully this head was cut."
"Beautiful?" Seemingly startled by this adjective, all the others, including the office worker and the student, couldn’t help but step back.
Beautiful? This thing couldn’t be described as beautiful in life or in death, right?
Seeing their reaction, Feng Xue didn’t waste words but took the expensive steel pen in her hand, and, like waving a laser pointer during a lecture, she gestured with it towards the dead man’s eye sockets and the top of his head—
"Although letting blood is a common practice, even if bloodletting were to happen, it couldn’t possibly be this clean. The head had its brain removed and eyes plucked out, yet it remains in such a clean state. Even if one were to let the blood before processing, there would inevitably be so blood left in the capillaries. But look, there is not a single drop of blood on the table, and those organs are all quite clean as well. That’s very abnormal."
"Since when are ghosts killings normal?" The man with a green face seed sowhat intimidated by Feng Xue’s serious analysis, but still made his comnt sarcastically. Feng Xue heard this and pointed to the hanging body next to them:
"This hanged one is quite normal. Okay, it’s actually not normal either. This one is also too clean."
After glancing at the trousers of the suspended body, Feng Xue corrected himself and shook his head:
"It’s as if it’s been sanitized for a TV show."
Although he really wanted to say sothing like "television dramas can’t show this level of gore and pass censors," the scene in front of them was truly not gory at all.
In fact, if not for dical expertise and the absence of a dead person’s head, no one would directly associate such a display with a corpse.
However, the man with the green face didn’t continue on this topic. Instead, he pointed to his own neck and said:
"What’s the use of talking about this? Even if the way ghosts kill beca normal, does it an one could co back to life?"
As he spoke, he forcefully pointed to the bruises on his neck, which had beco more pronounced.
"To be precise, if it were normal, then you would already be dead. At least under normal circumstances, a person wouldn’t be able to stay conscious with their neck being strangled like this."
Feng Xue looked at the man’s neck and rcilessly issued a death verdict. The living room fell instantly silent, but at that mont, a beer-bellied student, who had previously seed a little off, uncontrollably lunged toward the table and started stuffing his mouth with slices of at, leading to a bout of retching in the room.
"The Deep-fried Ghost is getting angry," the spirit dium suddenly spoke. Without needing her to say it, Feng Xue could see that from within the spirit plaque, a swollen, red ghost with various disgusting bulges erged, reaching its hand out to grab the beer-bellied student frantically gorging on the hotpot ingredients.
The beer-bellied student’s movents instantly stiffened, then he violently began to vomit, while above his head, a gaunt ghost shadow with half its body protruding out opened its large mouth and bit at the hand that the Red Demon reached out.
And in that instant, three shadows simultaneously pounced toward the empty seat, but collided above the dining table and started to tear at each other.
"Five?" Feng Xue’s eyes narrowed, and he quickly turned his head to see the office worker, who had been a bit hard to read from the start, holding down the scorched bracelet on his own wrist, his face now showing a thoughtful rather than an ordinary expression.
"An old player, or a veteran?" Feng Xue glanced at the other players, who were visibly reduced in strength due to the ghosts leaving their bodies, and asked.
The office worker caressed his bracelet and said calmly:
"I’m just a minor character who has survived three rounds, no match for your adept skills. I concede this round to you; all the spirits are yours, how about that?"
"If that’s truly what you think, then of course, it’s good."
Feng Xue nodded lightly, as though about to turn to look at the ghosts tearing at each other behind him, but at that mont, the office worker suddenly ripped off his bracelet and shouted:
"Ignite! Shuo Ye Black Tide Unknowable Fire!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a cyan-black Illusionary fla spewed from his wrist, and upon closer inspection, there was a ring of burn marks as if branded with an iron.
Watching the flas converge in the air, Feng Xue smirked and tore open the unexpectedly appeared packet of salt in his hand, then spat out a mouthful of Sarcasm—
"Releasing ghosts is one thing, but why are you doing it like it’s an Unsealing Incantation?!"
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