Yang Jian used Zhang Zhidong, an ordinary person, as bait and paired it with the sacrifice doll to divert the ghost's attack, creating a supernatural conflict. His purpose was to free the ghost on the red wooden stool from the constraints of its dium and force it to fully manifest.
As long as the ghost appeared, it could definitely be contained under the current conditions.
Indeed.
As the supernatural conflict unfolded, the red wooden stool began to shake violently, and a terrifying, eerie silhouette erged.
It was the shadow of the ghost.
But this shadow was very blurry, shrouded in a haze, with only a barely discernible humanoid outline. The outline was twisted and deford, as if it were struggling, yet it also seed on the verge of laughing itself to death.
The ghost wanted to kill the sacrificial doll in Yang Jian's hand because Zhang Zhidong had triggered the ghost's killing pattern.
However, the ghost could not leave the red wooden stool, its dium.
In this supernatural conflict, how exactly would the ghost kill the sacrificial doll?
Yang Jian narrowed his eyes slightly, clutching the dirty, tattered doll in his hand, waiting for the situation to further develop.
What would happen during the process of the supernatural conflict was unpredictable. He was only relying on his past experiences and his personal approach to make bold speculations.
"The ghost has appeared…" Feng Quan stared fixedly at the eerie ghostly shadow on the red wooden stool.
"No, it hasn't really appeared yet. It's just that the supernatural power is starting to affect the real world. The ghost hasn't fully erged from the dium. The supernatural conflict is still ongoing," Tong Qian observed carefully, noting that the ghost's form was unstable.
The ghost wanted to attack the sacrificial doll in Yang Jian's hand but refused to leave the red wooden stool.
The dium was restraining the ghost.
At the sa ti, the ghost's killing pattern was forcing it to act.
Under such circumstances, the ghost was caught in a self-conflict, while Yang Jian, like an experienced hunter, toyed with the fearso ghost.
Only a ghost can deal with a ghost!
This was a truth Yang Jian seed to have fully grasped. He had never considered using the strength of living people to fight ghosts but had always tried to manufacture supernatural conflicts, even creating logical paradoxes.
"Look over there! The other red wooden stools are starting to break," Li Yang suddenly pointed toward the building's lobby, at the rows of eerie red wooden stools.
The red stools seed to lose so supporting power at that mont, developing cracks before snapping apart. The shattered wood continued to crumble into heaps of splinters, which then transford into a gust of icy cold air and dispersed with the wind.
"The red wooden stools are the ghost's diums. Now that the ghost is trying to break free from the stool, the diums lose their purpose without the supernatural power sustaining them," Feng Quan said imdiately.
He quickly shifted his gaze back to the red stool in front of him.
The ghost's silhouette was becoming more distinct.
They could even see the old-fashioned, non-modern clothing on the ghost, and the cold, indistinct face.
However, the ghost had no legs.
No.
The ghost did have legs; they were curled up and pressed against the red wooden stool as though fused with it.
The ghost could not move; the red wooden stool was its vessel.
The ghost appeared through the stool and killed whoever sat on it.
Yet now, the ghost was attempting to rise and leave. Its rigid body twisted and struggled, slowly shedding the stool's restraints.
Elsewhere in the building.
The strange red wooden stools that had previously appeared were disintegrating even faster, shattering and turning into dust before vanishing.
The number of diums was decreasing at an unimaginable rate.
Once the ghost completely left this final red wooden stool, all the diums would disappear.
The ghost would fully invade the real world.
Zhang Zhidong, the bait, was on the verge of fainting from sheer terror. Others might not see clearly, but he could.
An incomparably horrifying ghost writhed next to him, its body stiff like a corpse.
A blurry face and hollow eyes occasionally glanced at him, as if ready to kill him at any mont. Yet, for so reason, the ghost was repeatedly distracted by sothing else, turning its focus elsewhere as though engaged in an imperceptible battle.
Zhang Zhidong wasn't stupid. Instinctually, he felt that if this horrifying ghost attacked him, he would unquestionably die.
His body was immobilized, completely out of his control. Escape was impossible.
As the supernatural confrontation continued, changes kept occurring.
Except for the red wooden stool Zhang Zhidong was sitting on, almost all the other stools serving as diums had vanished, effectively eliminating much of the supernatural phenona within Ning'an Building.
Even Yang Jian could feel that the Ghost Domain of his ghost eyes was now extending freely without obstruction.
This was both good and bad news.
Without the constraint of a dium, the ghost risked losing control and could beco even more dangerous.
"Things don't seem to be going as smoothly as I expected," Yang Jian frowned slightly.
He noticed the ghost on the stool was struggling less violently, no longer as intense as before. The ghost's form was also beginning to blur again, as if it might disappear altogether.
"Did it fail? The dium's restraint seems stronger, and the sacrificial doll doesn't appear able to lure the ghost away from the stool," Feng Quan said in slight surprise.
The sacrificial doll in Yang Jian's hand continued to struggle and move.
This indicated the doll was still effective.
Although it was a single-use supernatural item, it had never failed until now. Could it really be incapable of redirecting the ghost's attack this ti?
"Whether it fails depends on whether Zhang Zhidong, who's also sitting on the stool, is still alive. If he dies, it ans the sacrificial doll has lost its effect. In a face-off between supernatural forces, the ghost is stronger," Yang Jian said.
Oddly, Zhang Zhidong was still alive.
Although terrified, he remained unhard.
The ghost's silhouette had blurred to nothing more than a strange outline, its struggles ceased, the stool no longer vibrating, and Zhang Zhidong hadn't been attacked.
The anticipated outco had deviated.
"Hey, there's no movent now. Xiao Yang, did you break it?" Xiong Wenwen could not help but ask.
Feng Quan lit a cigarette. "The ghost didn't kill anyone, didn't leave the stool to kill the sacrificial doll, and didn't disappear either… It seems the supernatural nature has altered."
"Crashed?" Li Yang looked at Yang Jian.
"Not crashed. If the ghost had crashed, the stool as a dium should also disappear, but it hasn't. Perhaps once the doll is consud, the ghost will exhibit other changes. For now, though, it seems like a good thing. The ghost appears to have stopped moving, entering so strange equilibrium."
Yang Jian felt the ghost was caught in a conflict with itself, creating a bizarre balance.
This balance was maintained by the sacrificial doll in his hand.
But the doll wouldn't last forever; it would eventually be consud.
"Take this red wooden stool away and check if there are any others left in the building. If not, this supernatural incident can be considered resolved. As long as ordinary people don't co into contact with the dium, it'll be fine," Tong Qian said.
Yang Jian looked up at Ning'an Building.
The Ghost Domain covered it.
Everything inside the building was visible through the ghost eyes.
"Confird. This is the last red wooden stool. The others vanished during the earlier conflict. This isn't a bad outco," Yang Jian said, retracting his gaze, then turned to Zhang Zhidong. "Can you move?"
Zhang Zhidong's attention was entirely on the ghost next to him.
He stared at the ghost, which seed to be calming down, his heart pounding as he dared not move an inch.
Zhang Zhidong hadn't realized the supernatural power wasn't affecting him anymore. He could move, but his body remained tightly wound, seemingly beyond his control.
Yang Jian's question t no response; it seed unheard.
But upon observation, Yang Jian could see signs of twitching in Zhang Zhidong's limbs.
This was the trembling from extre tension.
The stool's suppression had ceased affecting him.
Yang Jian approached and grabbed Zhang Zhidong by the collar, lifting him off the stool.
As soon as he left the red wooden stool, the ghost instantly disappeared, leaving only a blurry, eerie outline on the stool.
At this mont, Zhang Zhidong snapped awake.
"It seems this matter has been temporarily dealt with. Take the red wooden stool along with the ghost on it and lock it away to prevent it from reappearing sowhere else," Yang Jian said, releasing Zhang Zhidong. "Your task is complete. This turned out easier than expected."
Then, his ghost eyes opened, and the Ghost Domain spread.
Feng Quan, Tong Qian, Li Yang, Huang Ziya… the others began disappearing.
They were leaving Dadong City, returning to Dachang City.
The red wooden stool incident was considered over. Though the ghost remained, Yang Jian controlled the final dium, effectively containing it.
Zhang Zhidong, just regaining his senses, was left dumbfounded.
The group that had been in front of him monts ago was now gone.
The red wooden stool was gone too.
"Almost forgot." Suddenly, Yang Jian's figure reappeared, striding toward Zhang Zhidong.
A cold, blackened hand slowly raised.
"W-What are you doing?" Zhang Zhidong instinctively stepped back, unease filling him.
"Performing surgery on you," Yang Jian replied. Before Zhang Zhidong could react, the black hand plunged into his head.
"Ah!"
He scread instinctively.
Yet, there was no pain. Even though the entire hand entered his forehead, there was not a trace of discomfort—only a fleeting, icy cold sensation that made him shiver involuntarily.
Yang Jian withdrew his hand. When he opened his palm, a small, crimson tumor-like mass sat in his hand.
Zhang Zhidong stared dumbly at the mass, about to speak when he realized Yang Jian had vanished again.
Everything returned to normal.
There were no eerie red stools, no peculiar individuals…
"This wasn't a dream." Zhang Zhidong stood dazed for a long ti. A chilly wind blew by, and as the cold seeped into his body, he finally snapped out of it.
He had left the hospital, wearing his patient gown, standing in front of Ning'an Building for quite a while.
Once fully awake and reflecting on what had happened, a wave of fear gripped him, and he fled from the scene as quickly as he could.
As he ran, mories of the earlier events kept playing through his mind.
The ghost on the stool, the strange group of people… Was it all real?
Could such bizarre, eerie things actually exist in this world, and had it all happened to him?
Out of breath and unsure how far he'd run, Zhang Zhidong finally arrived at the lobby of the hospital where he'd been staying.
Looking at the brightly lit hospital and the moving crowds, his unease and fear gradually ebbed.
He returned to his ward.
But that night, he didn't sleep at all.
The next day, recalling the events of the previous night, he imdiately asked the doctor to run tests on him again.
A very strange thing happened.
He was completely healthy. Although he had been scheduled for brain surgery, the doctor inford him that everything was normal and that the tumor in his brain had inexplicably vanished.
"Who exactly is this Yang Jian?"
Afterward, Zhang Zhidong felt an overwhelming curiosity about the events of the previous night, eager to find answers.
However, Yang Jian paid no attention to Zhang Zhidong.
To Yang Jian, Zhang Zhidong was just an ordinary stranger and thus not worth paying attention to.
This trip to Dadong City was short, lasting only three or four hours, but a lot had happened.
What Yang Jian initially thought was a simple revenge operation unfolded into a series of events involving a ghost wielder nad Chen Qiaoyang and the entangled secrets of the Wang Family's ancient manor.
Of course, the operation wasn't without its rewards.
They had eliminated a number of potential threats, contained a ghost and its dium—the red wooden stool—and stolen half of Chen Qiaoyang's mories, learning the secrets of the Wang Family's ancient manor and its reactivation.
"This concludes the matter. If anyone has nothing more to add, take so ti to rest. Also, be extra vigilant in the coming days. The ghost wielders tied to the Pendulum Clock curse were not limited to those we saw today. So wielders, though cursed, have chosen to stay out of this struggle entirely."
"We killed many today, so be wary of retaliatory attacks," Yang Jian said as he returned to the Shangtong Tower office and addressed the group.
"And from tomorrow onward, Dachang City will need higher security asures. The appearance of Chen Qiaoyang is an ominous sign. It suggests that even older ghost wielders are still alive in this world."
"As supernatural incidents continue to escalate, these individuals won't be able to remain hidden much longer. Soon, they will all surface."
"Anyone who's survived for decades since the early days must be unimaginably dangerous."
Yang Jian looked serious, his expression heavy with concern.
From Chen Qiaoyang's mories, Yang Jian had learned he wasn't the only survivor from that era.
"It seems the supernatural circle will only grow more chaotic," Feng Quan murmured from behind a veil of cigarette smoke. "But this also proves our prior asures have been correct."
"With the captains of headquarters around, things shouldn't spiral out of control," said Li Yang.
Huang Ziya smiled faintly on the side. "One Chen Qiaoyang dared to confront three captains. If a few more show up, they might even attack headquarters. The supernatural circle is way deeper than we used to think. At least we have our captain to lean on should the sky co crashing down."
She winked playfully at Yang Jian as she spoke.
"You're wrong. The danger from people pales in comparison. The real threat lies with the supernatural incidents. People can be negotiated, intimidated, or reasoned with, but ghosts cannot," Yang Jian responded.
Although the threat of revenge from people lingered in his mind, it wasn't his primary concern.
His main worry remained supernatural incidents.
Take the red wooden stool incident, for instance. What seed like a simple supernatural event had left Yang Jian feeling sowhat helpless. Even with his arsenal of supernatural weapons—the Coffin Nail and Firewood Knife—he couldn't make much headway.
Then there was the case of the paper effigies carrying the sedan chair.
A five-layer Ghost Domain had been effortlessly infiltrated. If the situation hadn't centered on Chen Qiaoyang, Yang Jian might have faced unimaginable peril.
The Wang Family's reactivating Pendulum Clock curse was yet another unsolved mystery hanging over Yang Jian.
"Enough. It's late, and this isn't the ti to dwell on such topics. Let's discuss this tomorrow," Yang Jian concluded.
"Ti to sleep, ti to sleep. I'm exhausted," Xiong Wenwen cheered, clearly pleased as the eting ended.
Without another word, Yang Jian vanished in a flash of red light, taking the Ghost Child with him.
"Hey, Xiao Yang! You left behind?! Take with you!" Xiong Wenwen shouted.
"Just drive ho. It's not far anyway. The captain probably has personal matters to handle," Tong Qian said.
Feng Quan added, "You all go ahead. I'll stay and keep watch at the office tonight, just in case anything else happens."
"Contact us if anything cos up," Li Yang said.
"Of course."
Soon, everyone dispersed and went their separate ways.
In the now-empty office, only Feng Quan remained.
Feng Quan smoked his cigarette, but the smoke didn't dissipate. Instead, it grew denser.
No, this wasn't smoke—it was fog.
Amid the thick fog.
Feng Quan sat in contemplation, muttering to himself, "Has soone tampered with my mory?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)