Chapter 111: Forcing Out the Abdominal Demon

“Damn it!!!”

At that moment, Bozi was in such a panic he didn’t care whether it was a ghost or not. He swung his hand and slapped the disheveled ghost fiercely and precisely. Fueled by anger, the strength behind his slap was formidable.

In the eyes of the disheveled ghost, Bozi was engulfed in blazing flames. This ghost was a drowning spirit, initially drawn by the heavy yin energy in the area and intending to enter. Yet, every household had a guardian door god, preventing ordinary ghosts from crossing the threshold. So the spirit waited at the doorway. Unexpectedly, the door opened sooner than expected, filling the ghost with hope. But as it tried to enter, it suddenly realized that the person opening the door radiated such intense fire energy that it was completely powerless to resist. By the time it sensed the danger, it was too late—the fire energy suppressed it utterly.

However, Bozi misunderstood the drowning spirit’s intention, thinking it was deliberately blocking his way. Though his slap passed right through it, Bozi didn’t care. With a furious roar, he swung his hand again, aiming straight at the ghost. Terrified, the drowning spirit saw Bozi’s flaming palm as a death talisman. The fiery red hand struck true.

With a scream, the drowning spirit’s body turned to ashes and scattered. Bozi paid no mind to why the ghost vanished so suddenly and hurried downstairs. Just as he reached the bottom, he saw a car speeding toward him. Driving so fast in such heavy rain either meant someone was reckless or there was an urgent matter.

The car stopped right in front of Bozi. A young man dressed in hip-hop style climbed out and waved at someone inside. Four others, all in their twenties and wearing raincoats, quickly got out and carefully carried down a large mirror, two meters long and one meter wide.

“Bozi, where should we put this mirror?” The young men wore raincoats, clearly prepared for this. Bozi stared at the large mirror, unsure how to get it inside through the narrow hallway. “Wait a moment, I’ll go ask!” he said, turning and rushing upstairs.

“Qiang, the mirror’s here, but it’s too big!” Bozi hurriedly reported to Song Nianqiang after returning to the room. But Song Nianqiang had no time to entertain him. Without even turning his head, he shouted, “Are you stupid? You can’t even get a mirror inside? Then I don’t think your son’s life is worth saving!”

Bozi’s face flushed red at the rebuke. He immediately turned and went downstairs again. Meanwhile, Song Nianqiang was struggling to suppress the abdominal ghost inside Cui Xiaobo. He never expected the ghost to be so fierce—it had broken through his carefully laid suppression in just half an hour and was now battling him.

Song Nianqiang’s hand rested on Cui Xiaobo’s forehead. Cui’s face was deathly pale; Song’s expression was grim. At that moment, Bozi came forward to ask how to get the mirror inside. “Damn it, you’re such a big guy, yet you can’t even get a mirror inside? Might as well just bash yourself on the mirror and die,” Song snapped.

That’s why Song Nianqiang yelled at Bozi. Whenever Bozi recalled this incident afterward, he blushed with embarrassment. He blamed himself for being too anxious and lacking a plan. Fortunately, Song’s harsh words woke him up—he was the head of the household and had to take charge. The others were merely helpers he had invited.

So after going downstairs, Bozi immediately ordered the corners of the mirror to be trimmed. This way, it could just barely be carried upstairs. The situation was extremely urgent; if anything happened during the move, they would deal with it then.

Thankfully, after removing the four corners, the mirror was successfully brought inside. Seeing it, Song Nianqiang quickly gestured for Bozi to place it directly above Cui Xiaobo, making sure his entire body reflected in it.

Bozi complied eagerly, guiding the four men to hold the mirror over Cui’s body. In the mirror, Cui’s figure transformed into a shapeless black shadow, like a pool of water violently swirling within him.

“Fatty! Apply the talisman!” Song Nianqiang shouted. Fatty understood immediately and pressed a talisman onto the mirror, which emitted a faint glow. Cui trembled violently on the bed—the exact reaction Song wanted.

Fatty now understood Song’s plan: to use the mirror’s reflection to draw the abdominal ghost out of Cui Xiaobo’s body. But this process was no easy task and required Fatty’s full cooperation. After grasping the plan, Fatty moved to Cui’s feet, pulled off his shoes, tore off his socks, and bit hard into his foot.

“Ugh!” The foot was so foul-smelling Fatty nearly vomited. But there was no time for weakness. He gritted his teeth, quickly wrapping the talisman around Cui’s foot and igniting it.

In the mirror, a faint yellow thread slowly rose from Cui’s foot to his head, then began to spread outward.

The black shadow seemed terrified of the yellow thread. As it started to spread, the shadow wrapped itself tightly around the thread, trembling violently as if in excruciating pain. Song’s eyelashes twitched involuntarily. This abdominal ghost was ruthless, willing to damage its own host just to envelope the yellow thread.

“All right, Fatty, keep going! Harder this time!” Song said grimly. Fatty showed no hesitation. Scanning the room, he grabbed a small knife from the desk and forcefully slashed one of Cui’s hands, causing fresh blood to flow.

Cui Xiaobo’s mother, seeing her son’s hand cut open without hesitation, was about to intervene, but Bozi pulled her back, shaking his head. Compared to her son’s life, this minor injury was insignificant.

Fatty didn’t stop with just one hand. He swiftly cut the other hand and both feet, blood flowing freely. Song and Fatty ignored the bleeding, showing no mercy. Cui’s face was already pale, now even more so, devoid of any color. His brows furrowed tightly, teeth clenched hard—he seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

“Do it now!” Seeing the bleeding needed to be stopped before Cui required emergency care, Song ordered Fatty. Fatty quickly applied talismans to the wounds and lit them. Yellow streams from the four talismans surged toward the abdominal ghost at the center.

The ghost fought desperately, resisting the yellow threads.

“Damn it!” Song was truly anxious now. He signaled Fatty with a glance. Fatty’s expression flickered with hesitation but then steeled himself. He moved to Cui’s head and slashed his neck.

Cui’s expression twitched sharply, pain wracking him. Blood gushed out like a broken dam. Fatty quickly applied a talisman to the neck wound and ignited it.

The abdominal ghost inside suddenly noticed a yellow thread above its head and panicked. It hadn’t expected such ruthlessness—it wasn’t saving a life but taking one.

The ghost didn’t linger. It darted out instantly but was caught by the reflection in the mirror. Seeing the ghost leave Cui’s body, Song shouted to Bozi, “Quick! Take him to the hospital!” He feared any delay would cost Cui Xiaobo his life.