Chapter 25: Master Five at First Glance

Chapter 25: The Five-Eyed Gentleman at a Glance

"My interest is not repaid in money—but in life itself."

"Life?!"

"That’s right. Each use of a ghost costs you two months of lifespan. Not much, wouldn’t you agree? After all, the Five-Eyed One itself requires sustenance, and I merely take a tiny share as interest."

Zhang Sanlu thought to himself, Not much? Using all five ghosts once would cost ten months of life. If I use them three times a day, that’s thirty months—over two years in a single day! Wouldn’t I be dead after just a few uses?

"Besides," the itinerant Taoist went on amiably, "I can see you favor close combat. This Five-Eyed Ghost Technique will not only make up for your handicap, but also grant ghostly powers to assist you. When you meet a strong foe, you need not rely on magical tools; you can strike in an instant, giving you a much better chance at survival. As for the question of lifespan, I can tell you’re quite practiced in refining human pills and using human cauldrons. As long as your furnace is suitable, what difficulty could this present to you? Hahaha..."

Zhang Sanlu was tempted. In this world, he lacked the ability to protect himself. In order to find a way back, he would have to search everywhere, facing countless dangers. If used with caution, this technique could become a deadly weapon. Moreover, he had brought nine pills from the pill cave. Though he was reluctant to use them, it was always good to be prepared.

After thinking it over, Zhang Sanlu asked tentatively, "How exactly is this contract sealed?"

The Taoist smiled. "As agreed, through a special ritual and incantation."

"And is there no risk of someone defaulting on their debt?"

"If I dare do this kind of business, I’m not afraid of debtors. We have a unique curse technique for such contracts. The method involves a special talisman, which bears the contract. Press it with a brick of blood, circle it with a sword finger clockwise, and recite the debt-collecting mantra. This must be repeated for twelve days, once per day, and the defaulter will find living unbearable, yet be unable to die."

The two of them sealed the contract as required. The Taoist solemnly handed Zhang Sanlu the Five-Eyed One’s eye.

Zhang Sanlu took the eye, feeling a cool current spread from his palm through his body. Holding the strange eye—called the Five-Eyed One—he carefully aligned it with his own eye socket.

A peculiar sensation surged through him, like a current of electricity running through his body. Zhang Sanlu felt his center of vision shifting. His heart raced, suspense and anticipation mingling within him. He closed his eyes and gently placed the Five-Eyed One at his left eye, then slowly opened them.

At first, dizziness overtook him and his vision blurred. But soon, everything cleared. His sight became astonishingly sharp; he could see the dew on distant leaves with perfect clarity. Incredulous, he looked at the Taoist. Every fiber, even the floating motes in the air, stood out to him. He closed his eyes and opened them again, seeking to adapt to this new ability.

Following the Taoist’s instructions, he stamped his foot and formed a seal with one hand, calling out, "Come forth, Five-Eyed Gentleman!"

In an instant, amidst the desolate burial mounds under the midnight sky, a gust of wind broke the silence. A translucent, twisted apparition slowly emerged from the void.

This ghost was scarcely visible, its gaunt, contorted limbs bending at impossible angles. Its eyes were black as deep chasms, its mouth torn open to the ears, revealing a set of ghastly white teeth, strings of saliva hanging from its lips.

Suddenly, as if shattered like a mosaic, it darted into the air, its figure streaking through the night and leaving a fading afterimage. Even without aiming at a target, Zhang Sanlu could sense how difficult it would be to defend against such a ghost.

With a word—“Return”—the apparition dove into the Head Hammer.

Seeing Zhang Sanlu’s satisfaction, the Taoist smiled. "Now that our transaction is complete, please put away your magical hammer. It is time we parted ways." He saluted Zhang Sanlu, clearly wary of the Head Hammer, as if reluctant even to touch it.

After Zhang Sanlu stowed the hammer on his back, the Taoist picked up his exhausted spirit hound, waved, and departed with a light step. Only a chilling song lingered in the air:

"In the mountain’s dark immortal path, a lone shadow walks with the moon, never to return...
A cauldron’s flames cast crescent light, and with a laugh, a child is refined to a pill...
Spirit herbs and phoenix grass by my side, ghostly flames and lonely souls aid my fate...
One day I’ll ascend to the immortal realm—who knows what sort of immortal one becomes, going against the current..."

Watching the Taoist’s receding figure, Zhang Sanlu shook his head and prepared to move on.

He slung the Head Hammer onto his back, ready to set off, when a strange sensation swept over him. At first it was a mild discomfort, as if countless tiny needles were pricking his skin. But the feeling intensified rapidly, as though thousands of needles were piercing through his flesh, straight to the bone.

Zhang Sanlu’s brows knitted, his face twisting in pain. His muscles spasmed involuntarily. His left eye, the Five-Eyed One, felt as though it were being stabbed through. His whole body trembled as if struck by lightning. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and back, running down his fevered skin in stark contrast.

"Damn, have I fallen for the Taoist’s trick?!"

He tried to breathe deeply to resist the agony, but each breath seemed to draw more needles into his body, stabbing at his eye socket and searing his skull. His fingers clenched, nails digging into his palms, but he felt nothing through the numbness brought on by the all-consuming pain.

He tried to tear out the left eye, but found himself powerless. His vision blurred, everything dissolving into a haze, with only the stabbing agony remaining clear. He wanted to cry out, but his voice was locked in his throat, escaping only as a hoarse moan. His legs gave way, his body pitching forward, nearly collapsing, but he forced himself to stand, though the world tilted and threatened to fall apart.

In a daze, he saw a young man in a coarse shirt approaching cautiously through the darkness. He tried to draw the short sword at his waist, but the waves of numbness surged over him, one after another, until suddenly—his vision went black, and he lost consciousness.