Funeral Staff

The face in the rearview mirror made Wang Ye's hair stand on end.

He was certain that just three seconds ago, the spot where he'd checked the mirror had been empty.

A person appearing beside him without a sound—it was enough to send chills down anyone's spine.

Remembering the mission prompt—to deliver the letter to the first person seen at the terminal—Wang Ye gritted his teeth and reached for the door handle.

Just then, the courtyard gate swung open.

A breathless old lady ran out, her face full of urgency as she looked at Wang Ye: "Don't give him the letter—he's not human!"

"Not human?"

A glint flashed in Wang Ye's eyes, and cold sweat broke out all over his body.

In an instant, his mind raced, as if he'd suddenly grasped something, and a wave of lingering fear washed over him.

"Damn Post Office—there's a trap in the mission prompt."

Wang Ye cursed under his breath. The prompt said to give it to the first person seen, but a ghost wasn't a person.

If he'd misunderstood and handed the letter to the man...

The consequences would have been unthinkable.

Hearing the old lady's words, the man's face instantly darkened. He turned and fixed his gaze on her, staring for a long time before speaking coldly: "Don't be fooled by her. Give me the letter."

"Don't give it to him!"

The old lady was frantic, shaking her head desperately at Wang Ye.

Watching the scene unfold, Wang Ye's pupils contracted sharply.

These two—they could actually talk!

In his past life, Wang Ye had handled dozens of Supernatural Incidents, big and small, and not a single ghost had ever possessed emotions or thoughts!

At most, they could erode human brains, alter a person's own thinking, and cause external effects through that.

But this scene shattered everything he'd taken for granted.

At least one of these two was a ghost—which meant ghosts didn't lack thought; it was just that he'd never encountered a high-level one that did.

Wang Ye quickly reined in his scattered thoughts, looked gravely at the two of them, and sat in the car without a word.

Strangely, the two outside clearly held some wariness of each other. They didn't fight, only silently stared, waiting for Wang Ye's decision.

Wang Ye sat in the car, observing for a long time.

The pale, eerie middle-aged man, and the anxious, frantic old lady.

"I think I get it now."

Finally, a hint of decisiveness flashed in Wang Ye's eyes. He got out of the car at lightning speed and handed the letter to the man.

Taking the letter, the man's originally pallid face instantly gained some color—no longer that deathly stillness, but a touch of life.

He looked at Wang Ye with a hint of approval in his eyes.

Meanwhile, the old lady in the distance twisted her face into a vicious snarl, glaring at Wang Ye with venom.

"Why?!"

As the words left her mouth, her body withered at an eerie speed, collapsing into something like a mummy, one eyeball dropping from its socket.

And driven into her head was a Bronze Nail, steeped in an ancient aura.

Wang Ye instinctively stepped back two paces, standing behind the man, and took a long look at the nail in the old lady's skull.

Sure enough. Post Office issue.

Exactly the same as the one he'd driven into the 404 photo.

"How did you figure it out?"

The old lady's voice had lost all trace of humanity—it was now heavy with yin energy, cold and biting, her venomous gaze as if it could pierce Wang Ye through.

"First, how could an old man who gets winded after two steps be deep in the Wasteland?"

"Second, you were too normal—normal like my neighbor's grandma. Someone with that kind of personality doesn't live long."

"And finally, you've been standing at the courtyard gate the whole time, not a single step out. You must be sealed in."

Wang Ye's eyes were calm as he spoke flatly to the old lady.

The letter in the middle-aged man's hand finally turned completely to ash, scattering into the air.

"You..."

"Not bad."

The man seemed a bit poor with words. After organizing his thoughts for a long time, he looked at Wang Ye and said.

Then his gaze shifted to the old lady. A faint smile curled at his lips as he took a step forward, his entire body enveloped in a Green Light.

Watching the man's back, Wang Ye's pupils abruptly contracted.

Five parts.

Fully five parts of his body flickered with green light.

In an era where awakening a single body part was the norm, and awakening two already made one the top powerhouse in Shangjing City, deep within this wasteland, someone had actually awakened five.

This was not a simple one-plus-one equation.

Every time a body part awakened, a person's overall strength underwent a qualitative transformation.

The awakened body parts, with their blood circulation and bodily functions complementing each other, produced an enormous effect.

It was unimaginable just how terrifying an existence this guy was.

Moreover, he seemed far from unfamiliar with the Post Office's letters.

Perhaps, from him, some secrets about the Post Office could be gleaned.

Unfortunately, just as Wang Ye was about to speak, the man's body flickered with green light—the Courtyard, the man, and the Old Lady all vanished into the wasteland.

As if they had never existed.

"Gone?"

Wang Ye's eyes were filled with deep shock. The scene before him was something his understanding could not explain.

Perhaps his knowledge of this world was far too shallow.

The sight before him, beyond stunning Wang Ye, also ignited a fierce determination in his eyes.

In his past life, as an ordinary person, he had still managed to squeeze into an A-Class Squad and become an indispensable part of it.

Let alone this life, where he had set foot on the path of a Superhuman.

One day, this world would hold no secrets from his eyes.

Wang Ye quickly calmed down.

The air gradually turned cold and eerie. In the distance, a figure clad in a White Mourning Garment, holding a Funeral Staff, emerged into Wang Ye's line of sight.

Wang Ye's expression shifted slightly. He swiftly returned to the Mail Truck, slammed the door shut, and started the engine.

But from the motor, despite the roaring sound, the vehicle refused to start.

"Damn it!"

Anxiety flickered in Wang Ye's eyes as he watched the figure drawing closer and closer, stomping on the accelerator repeatedly.

Soon, even the face on the figure became faintly visible.

This...

This damn thing seemed to have no face!

Finally, with a roar from the engine, the Mail Truck lurched into motion.

Wang Ye hastily spun the steering wheel, following the path he had come from, speeding away.

This eerie wasteland—just one minute off the vehicle, and death was already threatening.

As the Mail Truck faded into the distance, the figure holding the Funeral Staff stopped in its tracks. Its cold gaze, devoid of any emotion, silently stared after the direction the truck had gone.

Slowly, on that faceless visage, features twisted and emerged.

Eventually forming a face identical to Wang Ye's.

At first, the face was somewhat stiff, but gradually it even took on expressions of tension and panic.

Exactly the same expressions Wang Ye had worn before he left.

And at that moment, a cold snort rang out. A flash of green light streaked through the void, slashing across the figure's face.

The figure twisted in pain, letting out a shrill, miserable scream.

In the end, Wang Ye's features gradually faded, and the figure once again lost its face.

It stood there, frozen for several minutes, before finally, holding the Funeral Staff, it vanished once more into the thick fog.