Chapter Sixty-Five: Two Ghosts

"You only need to know that tonight you are doomed to die, nothing else matters!" he said coldly. Then Song Nianqiang formed seals with his hands, casting the Five Thunder Spell in an instant. Yet as the blue lightning appeared, the Skinning Ghost had already vanished.

He watched his surroundings intently—there was nothing else he could do, for his mastery of Maoshan techniques was still lacking and he could not detect the Skinning Ghost. Still, when the ghost tried to strike, he would sense it. A door panel drifted silently up behind Song Nianqiang, who was focused on what lay ahead and paid no attention to his back. When the panel was three meters away, it suddenly accelerated, hurtling toward him. Fortunately, Song Nianqiang’s reflexes were quick; he dropped forward, and the panel whistled past over his head.

As he stood up, a ghastly pale face appeared before him, its white pupils swirling. No matter how strong Song Nianqiang’s nerves were, he was badly frightened and instinctively swung his right fist. Just as he was about to strike the face, the figure vanished, and he felt a sharp pain in his back. He turned hastily.

A floating head hovered in midair—it had just bitten him. Cursing his luck, Song Nianqiang realized the situation was far more complicated than it seemed. In just a short while, three second-class ghosts had appeared; who knew what else might emerge?

Luckily, that head could not turn invisible; otherwise, Song Nianqiang would be helpless. Smiling grimly, he stared at the head. "Since you can't hide, taste my methods!" With that, he launched a kick at the head, knowing it was solid.

As for the fat man, Song Nianqiang was not worried. The two had prepared thoroughly; the fat man's room was fortified so even a third-class ghost might not break in. They had set a Bagua ward at the door to prevent ghosts from entering, and pasted a purple talisman above the entrance.

However, the ghostly head was too quick. With a whoosh, it darted into the darkness at the other end of the corridor, forcing Song Nianqiang to stand and deliberate for several seconds before gritting his teeth and giving chase. He cared nothing for possible traps ahead; his sole thought was to destroy every ghost here.

He switched on lights as he went, searching room by room, exhausting himself. But perseverance paid off: when he opened the third room, he found the ghostly head floating in midair, staring at him with a wicked grin.

As it smiled, all the corridor lights suddenly went out. Song Nianqiang saw the head's two eerie green eyes. A force abruptly surged from behind, shoving him uncontrollably into the room. The air was thick with the stench of blood, and he frowned.

The door slammed shut with a bang, then he heard the click of a lock. "Damn it! You dare play tricks with me!" Song Nianqiang was furious—caught by two ghosts, he was now trapped between the pale ghost and the floating head, realizing too late the danger he faced.

A greenish candle suddenly ignited, appearing from nowhere and floating in midair. By its eerie light, Song Nianqiang finally saw the room. "Good heavens!" he gasped, now understanding why the floor felt sticky when he entered. The entire room was strewn with severed limbs and organs—eyes, ears, noses, all tossed about. Until now, he'd only seen traces of blood, not the "parts." The sight made him nauseous; he was no perverse soul, so his reaction was only natural.

"Give me back my life! Give me back my life!" A chilling voice echoed from the mutilated remains on the floor. Song Nianqiang’s scalp tingled. "Damn it! This is horrifying!" He gritted his teeth and quickly formed seals, unleashing the Heavenly Thunder Break—a wide-range attack spell. Yet within this room, the spell seemed suppressed, unable to exert any power.

"How could this be!" Song Nianqiang was dumbfounded. The floating head moved, uttering a series of grating, maddening cries, unsettling Song Nianqiang’s heart. Worse, he could not lift his feet—every step risked crushing mangled limbs.

As the head floated toward him, Song Nianqiang punched at it. But strangely, his fist passed right through the solid head. The head drifted in front of him, face to face, then suddenly inhaled. Song Nianqiang felt his body weaken; the head had absorbed more than half of his vital energy.

As the head prepared to draw again, Song Nianqiang reacted swiftly. If it succeeded, he would surely die—without vital energy, a living man is no better than a corpse.

Desperate, he fumbled in his pocket, grabbing anything to block the head's mouth. He wildly swung the object at the head, and to his surprise, the head recoiled in terror, fleeing to the corner. Its eyes showed it had encountered something that restrained it.

Song Nianqiang’s racing heart finally calmed. He glanced at what was in his hand—the Ghost King’s Token. Clearly, this token was extraordinary. "I should consult that old man about it someday," Song Nianqiang thought, gripping the token tightly.

Without the token, Song Nianqiang would have been killed by the second-class ghost. His current skills were insufficient to handle such entities, but having promised the bureau chief to resolve this case, he would not break his word. Tonight, there had to be an ending.

With determination, Song Nianqiang closed his eyes. An upright eye gradually appeared on his forehead, and a sacred aura radiated from him. Perhaps his mastery was lacking, for the eye only emerged halfway before fading.

Even so, that brief aura made the two ghosts shrink into the corner, trembling. Glancing at the still-shaken ghosts, Song Nianqiang strode to the door and kicked it open. Escaping the room was now his top priority—who knew what else might happen if he remained?

But upon exiting, Song Nianqiang found himself in a parking lot, utterly confused. His spirits soon lifted, however, when the floating head appeared ahead, beside a car where the pale ghost also sat.

"What the hell is going on here!" Song Nianqiang was now thoroughly enraged. He pulled a talisman from his pocket and pressed it to his arm, which instantly turned golden, gleaming brightly.

"I’ll crush you both!" he snarled, walking toward the ghosts. The pale ghost started the car and charged at him, but Song Nianqiang paid it no mind. His golden arm raised high, and a golden vortex formed in the sky, sucking the car up in an instant.

Yet the pale ghost leaped from the car, floating toward Song Nianqiang with outstretched arms, intent on strangling him—but it seemed to have forgotten Song Nianqiang’s current state.