Chapter 72: Modern Ghost-Hunting Weapons

Chapter Seventy-Two: Modern Ghost-Hunting Weapons

“Qiangzi, from my experience as a soldier, your room allocation is very unreasonable!” The three men in the rented apartment were gathered around a table playing cards. Li Runze played the seven of clubs and then remarked.

“What’s so unreasonable about it?” Song Nianqiang asked curiously, his tone full of doubt.

“If a stranger were to come in and see you guys, what would they think? Even close friends might not feel comfortable knowing your profession!” As Li Runze spoke, he glanced around the apartment. It was true—apart from the basic necessities, the place was filled with ghost-hunting tools. If an outsider came in, who knows what they’d make of the two of them. They’d certainly be seen as odd.

A sudden realization dawned. “You’re right! Well, at least you learned something in the Special Agent Group No. 7—you know how to judge situations. Why don’t we buy the room at the back, knock down the wall between the two, and use the front as a living room and sleeping area, while the back becomes our workspace? What do you think?” Song Nianqiang turned to the fat man for his opinion.

The fat man, as usual, showed complete indifference to the matter. As long as he had a place to sleep, he didn’t care how Song Nianqiang rearranged things. So the decision was made. Negotiating with the landlord would be easy—offer a price a bit higher than others and everything would be settled.

But it wasn’t time to redecorate yet; tonight, they had bigger matters to deal with. The skinning ghost incident still hadn’t been resolved, and they had a tough battle ahead. They could only wonder how the ghost-hunting skills of the Special Agent Group No. 7 would measure up.

The three slept in their apartment until six in the evening, then went out for some beer—just one bottle each. They had urgent matters to handle that night, so they couldn’t drink too much. An hour later, they left the small restaurant—of course, Li Runze paid for the meal, since it was all on the government’s dime.

Instead of returning to the barracks, the three headed straight to the victim’s residence. The deceased’s family—a woman—sat on the bed in the bedroom, her face pale as death. Whether from fear or something else, it was hard to say. Her child lay asleep beside her, but the child’s face was also pale, perhaps indicating something had already happened.

“I’ve joined the team. We’ll talk later!” Li Runze told Song Nianqiang and the fat man, then jogged over to a middle-aged man, whispered something, and the man nodded, casting a glance in their direction.

“Hello, you must be Song Nianqiang?” The middle-aged man approached, asking. Song Nianqiang didn’t speak, but nodded. “Good. I’ve heard of your abilities from Colonel, so I hope you’ll cooperate fully tonight. The skinning ghost is about to reach the third class of ghosts. I’ve brought all newbies this time, and I’m worried we’ll be overwhelmed. Oh! I forgot to introduce myself—you can call me Number Seven. I’m the leader of Special Agent Group No. 7.”

He said quite a bit, but Song Nianqiang caught something in Number Seven’s words. Last time, Song Nianqiang had managed to drive the skinning ghost away purely by luck. The skinning ghost had reached the peak of the second class, far beyond Song Nianqiang’s current abilities. As for the people Number Seven brought, they might not even match Song Nianqiang, which was why Number Seven spoke to him this way.

“I understand. I’ll definitely cooperate fully with you tonight.” Song Nianqiang nodded solemnly. Hearing his affirmative answer, Number Seven smiled, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it to Song Nianqiang. “There’s a hundred thousand in here. If you can destroy the skinning ghost tonight, the money is yours!” Number Seven’s casual expression made it seem as if he were tossing away something trivial. Song Nianqiang couldn’t help but sigh, “Government people really don’t care about money!”

He took the card unceremoniously, playing with it in his hand, and grinned brightly. “If I don’t take down the skinning ghost tonight, I’ll go to hell with him!”

This was no small statement. Ghost hunters dreaded nothing more than descending to hell. Not only did they catch countless evil ghosts in their lifetime, but once in hell, the officials there would surely target and torment them. Their earthly merits made them prime candidates for the underworld king’s favor, which meant a meteoric rise—but since underworld positions were fixed, someone’s promotion meant another’s downfall. So for ghost hunters, hell was a miserable place, though exceptions existed.

“Good! With your promise, I’m relieved. The skinning ghost will surely die here tonight!” Number Seven responded, his spirit soaring. His men had already prepared the room. If the skinning ghost dared to come, he would fall into their trap.

“What’s the matter with the mother and child?” Song Nianqiang observed them closely, noticing their faces were pale from fright. He asked Number Seven.

“The person killed by the skinning ghost turned into a fierce ghost and came home tonight. If we hadn’t arrived in time, the mother and child would have been killed and turned into fierce ghosts as well. They’re innocent—they shouldn’t have died.” Number Seven spoke with a sense of loss, and Song Nianqiang could see he was a man with a story.

But Song Nianqiang didn’t care about his story. What concerned him was that the person killed by the skinning ghost had turned into a fierce ghost and specifically returned tonight to kill his wife and child, turning them into fierce ghosts as well. Such twisted psychology deserved death, Song Nianqiang thought.

“But when we eliminated the fierce ghost, it seemed it had something to say, but we acted too quickly for it to speak.” Number Seven found it odd, too. There’s a saying—“even the fiercest tiger won’t eat its cubs.” Even if he was mentally disturbed, it was unlikely he’d kill his wife of ten years. Neighbors said their relationship was always good, and their intimacy remained frequent after the child was born.

Such a couple, with the husband turning into a fierce ghost after death, shouldn’t have tried to kill his wife. He must have had some unspeakable reason, but now it no longer mattered.

Midnight had passed. The room was heavy with worry; the skinning ghost’s power weighed on everyone, leaving them breathless. Only one person showed indifference—apart from the fat man munching on seeds, the room was silent, even breathing barely audible.

“Get the weapons ready!” Number Seven stood and ordered his men. He’d brought four people; two of them each pulled out a pistol. Song Nianqiang didn’t recognize these advanced weapons and glanced at Number Seven in confusion.

“Heh, these are specially made for supernatural incidents. The bullets are custom-crafted and highly effective against ghosts and monsters. Whether they’ll work against the skinning ghost tonight, we’ll see.”

Though they had advanced weapons, ghost-hunting depended more on skill than equipment. For minor ghosts with little power, these weapons worked wonders. If hit by their bullets, the little ghosts would be overwhelmed; fire enough machine-gun rounds and their souls would scatter.

Li Runze took a cup of clear water, dabbed a few drops on his glasses, then donned a pair of gloves adorned with intricate ancient patterns. Song Nianqiang sensed strong soul energy emanating from the designs, but had no idea what they were for.

Another man pulled out a bow, slung a quiver on his back, and drew an arrow. The arrow was inscribed with patterns that Song Nianqiang recognized—the fat man had drawn them before. If the arrow were laid flat, it would form a blazing sun talisman.

“They all have gear—what about you?” Song Nianqiang asked Number Seven curiously. Number Seven smiled, unfastened a small object from his waist, and showed it to Song Nianqiang, who recognized it immediately: a miniature version of the Ghost King’s Token.

This tiny token had all the functions of the real Ghost King’s Token, though in every aspect, it could never match the genuine article.