Act 3: Wings of Light

Foreword:

Your passion lies in your abilities.

Dale Carnegie | How to Win Friends and Influence People

[Part 1: Young Eagle]

"I'm going to perform a psychic ritual," Jason Megan said, pulling a psionic catalyst from her large backpack. "Get ready."

The so-called spiritual ritual is a unique form of witchcraft practiced by psychics. It refers to various esoteric techniques that can amplify Inspiration and search for spirits through a wide variety of methods.

Jiang Xueming shrugged and spread his hands.

"--I'm ready."

Jason Megan looked dazed. "What have you prepared?"

Jiang Xueming immediately asked, "Is there anything else we need to prepare?"

The two stared at each other, neither saying a word for a long time.

Jason Megan then adopted her usual complaining ways and started yelling and screaming.

"My boss! I'm about to perform a spirit summoning ceremony! Can't you be a little more serious?!"

According to the basic classification of spirits, there are four types: wandering spirits, guardian spirits, tower spirits, and evil spirits.

--Whether in the mortal world or the underworld, people with Inspiration can collectively refer to them as ghosts, and can perceive the phenomenon of spirits causing trouble.

Jason is now summoning a spirit, and this half-baked lapis lazuli only knows the spirit-summoning ritual; he hasn't even had time to learn the two books, the Book of Spirit Guarding and the Book of Spirit Sending.

He hoped that Jiang Xueming could have some countermeasures. If evil spirits were summoned, the two morpho butterflies wouldn't be afraid of the Spirit Calamity, but the residential area of Morning Light County was right outside the West Suburb Park. If the disaster spilled over, things would get really serious.

He went to great lengths to explain all the details in the Qiling Book to Jiang Xueming.

Jiang Xueming listened for a long time before finally understanding.

"Oh! So you're saying you're not entirely confident either, right?"

Jason: "Well, you could say that."

Jiang Xueming: "Do you want me to get some weapons and skills?"

Jason: "Yes, I'm not very good at this. Last time I used this method to investigate a case, it caused a nursing home to be haunted for four months. All the retired senior officers in the Transportation Department learned to dance in the Spirit Calamity. Every single one of the Grandfather and grandmas was affected and had a strange experience of being possessed by a ghostly dance king."

Jiang Xueming: "Okay, you wait."

In the short time it took Mr. Jason to retrieve the perfume bottle, less than half a minute later, Jiang Xueming shouted loudly, "[Fragrant Dream]!"—the omnipotent robot cat had given Xue Ming a weapon.

The streetlights in the West Suburbs Park are gone, replaced by a ground littered with iron filings and sparks.

Xue Ming cocked the gun by pulling the slide, then disassembled it and poured in some peanut oil—a small bottle he'd grabbed while eating breakfast.

With the click of the slide returning to its original position, the silver bullet propelled the bolt into the muzzle.

"I'm ready, big brother."

Jason looked up, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He only knew that gunsmiths could handcraft tools very quickly, and he had previously crafted relatively simple M1900 gun-branded pistols.

But what is that thing he's holding now?

That was a Jericho 941 automatic pistol, also known as the Desert Eagle.

The entire gun has rough, knife-like grooves and hasn't been sandblasted or polished yet, but the weapon looks to be in good condition. Judging from the rifling at the muzzle, it uses 10mm bullets. As for where the bullets came from...?

Behold, a blurry phantom appears and disappears behind the gunsmith. The arms of the Fragrant Dream transform into chisels and molds for stamping cartridge cases. Two fists collide, striking out cartridge cases one after another. Before these semi-finished products can land, they are swept away by the nimble tail, which pours out granular gunpowder from the thermos in the pocket, loads it, and presses it into the primer and steel bullet.

After making about twenty bullets, Fragrant Dream seemed to have been assimilated by Jason Megan and began to show the eyes of a resentful woman.

Jason stammered, "Now I finally understand why the Polarized Sextant gave you an extra score on your intracranial contraband index."

Gunsmiths' heads are indeed full of contraband; ninety percent of what Fragrant Dream concocts can't pass security checks.

"Stop talking nonsense and get started." Jiang Xueming urged, pointing his gun at the ready. "It was originally made for my student Daniel. He's been studying the design drawings these past few days, but he didn't get to use it. I've gotten to use it first, so there's nothing surprising about it—where there's passion, there's ability."

This fledgling pistol uses 10mm ammunition and has a muzzle velocity of over 400 meters per second. It is a high-performance, high-powered handgun with the lineage of the CZ-75 and the spirit of the Desert Eagle.

It's not a good fit for the gunsmith's physique; it's better suited to Daniel's arm span.

"What if firearms can't deal with spirits?" Jason asked.

Gunsmith: "Summon Fragrant Dream and ask it if it's eaten. If not, it'll take a punch from me."

At this moment, Jason Megan suddenly felt that the gunsmith had changed.

In his early twenties, the gunsmith was a quiet, timid boy. After turning thirty, his beard grew exceptionally fast, and combined with his inexplicably honest demeanor, he developed a comedic flair, making him a potential comedian.

Jason didn't say much. With Fragrant Dream's speed and power, attracting evil spirits shouldn't be a big problem.

He began to work, pouring the oil from the perfume bottle into experimental vessels, repeatedly mixing and heating it to release a rich, sweet-smelling medicinal vapor.

At this moment, Jiang Xueming could sense a subtle change in the nearby psionic tides—

The previously faint spiritual energy fluctuations began to intensify, as if guided by medicinal liquids and aromatherapy.

A thin mist hung over the tree-lined path, gradually solidifying as it drifted with the rising and falling warm breezes, trying to gather in one place.

"That's pretty good," the gunsmith said, leaning on Jason's back, praising the spell. "You should go to Galahad for further training soon; wouldn't that save us a lot of time searching for enemies on our expedition?"

"It's not that easy," Jason Megan replied impatiently. "This is delicate work. Spirits are very sensitive to their environment. To raise a spirit in the territory of the Madness Butterfly Sect is not that simple. Keep your voice down and be quiet."

Half a minute later, Jason's golden wolf eyes began to follow the flickering light source, searching for any signs of a spirit.

The surrounding electric and magnetic fields became less stable, and the electrical box in the distance emitted crackling noises indicating leakage.

Jiang Xueming had only a superficial understanding of such rituals and wasn't very clear about them— in the Arcane Library, his focus was always on <The Great Rift of All Things>, figuring out how to turn the living into the dead, and he rarely cared about how to make the dead speak.

Something's on its way?

Jason Megan, holding the thick parchment scroll, said while consulting the information, "I don't know, it should have a specific form. If it was a live burial, then it's a spirit mediated by sand and gravel."

"If it drowned, it needs some water to make it visible."

"If the person was burned to death, there must be a corresponding medium."

The West Suburbs Park has a scenic lake, and the power system can act as a heat source. There's also a sandy area next to the swing slide not far away. By all accounts, this spirit should have been born naturally. According to Jason's experience, strong psionic tides can even affect the park's public power facilities, so the spirit should have appeared long ago.

There seems to be only one answer left.

Jiang Xueming: "It was eaten."

Jason Megan frowned and nodded silently.

Jiang Xueming: "It was swallowed whole, while the person was still conscious, by the blood-donating unit."

The trail seems to have ended here.

--If you want to follow the trail to find the mysterious person behind Mali Pero, you can't avoid this tree-lined path.

The two exchanged information, and their years of experience hunting Madness Butterfly led them to agree that Mali Pero had held a [Communion] here, which was the ritual of eating the first human flesh.

The victim is most likely Mali Pero's girlfriend, whose name on the train ticket record is Yukiko Haruta, a Japanese-American girl.

Investigating Yukiko's family would probably yield little useful information.

If they rashly went to Mali Pero's hometown to gather information in the Forty District, they would be back to their initial predicament— Mali Pero's parents were likely already under control, which would not only make it difficult to guarantee the safety of the hostages, but simply appearing near Mali Pero's ancestral home would immediately expose the anonymous search party's intentions.

Even capturing an unsuspecting criminal requires extreme caution. If the enemy escapes, chasing after Madness Butterfly in the complex railway system would be like finding a needle in a haystack, causing incalculable damage.

In the past, nameless individuals rarely fought this kind of battle. They would infiltrate enemy territory, venture deep into enemy lines, and fight on foreign soil without any worries about their safety—burning, killing, looting, or rather, upholding justice.

Jason Megan muttered to himself, "If we knew their names, we could pinpoint their general location. Unfortunately, we don't even know their names, so there's no way to find out anything."

Jiang Xueming: "If he were just a remnant of the Madness Butterfly Sect, that would be one thing—but judging from Mali Pero's fundamental characteristics, he has already become Immortals [Wings of Light]."

Wings of Light – The Immortals use the Eagle Falcon as their totem, and their wings are the followers they spread out.

Holy blood is essential for maintaining the organizational structure of the Madness Butterfly Sect, and different formulas can create blood-donating units with different physical characteristics.

The elixir concocted by the Immortals themselves is an ancient formula they've refined over countless years, creating a monster that's only a step away from becoming Flash Butterfly. When Kang Que Connors was critically wounded and near death, his body developed bird feathers and an eagle's beak, almost reverting him to his original form at the hands of the gunsmith. This also signifies that the leader of the Mercy of Eros is a direct henchman of the Immortals, the [Wings of Light].

The spirit of the Fen Feng possesses characteristics of a cuckoo, a point of particular interest to the researchers at the Arcane Library. They once attempted to connect this to the tragedy at the Shinto City —but there is no direct evidence to prove that the Fen Feng ever received help from Immortals.

"Wait a moment."

Just as Jason Megan was packing up his psychic tools to find another way, Jiang Xueming returned the experimental apparatus to the oil lamp, and the fragrant steam continued to emanate.

[Part ② - Tiger's Eyes Wide Open]

The darkness grew thicker, like a fine wine, drawing in wandering spirits from afar.

Before long, a clump of sticky, damp aquatic plants climbed up the pier of the scenic lake, containing old mud and rotten bone fragments.

As it stepped onto the soft wooden plank, the stench of household garbage settled at the bottom of the lake filled the air. Torn plastic bags tightly wrapped its belly, and the limbs that could barely be called "legs" exposed greenish aluminum sheets. Its joints were made up of some rotten aluminum cans.

Its chest and abdomen are covered with a dense array of snail shells, and a piece of turtle bone forms the outline of its abdominal muscles.

It whimpered and cried, two fresh water plants on its lower jaw connecting its collarbone and crooked, deformed shoulder. It had suffered a very severe impact before it died, as if it had fought some kind of monster underwater and finally died in the lake.

Its skull was damaged, constantly oozing black, muddy sewage. It tilted its head and tilted the fish bones that ran through its skull downwards, finally clearing the wastewater from its brain. Its eyes then emitted a faint green flame, and it regained consciousness.

The spirit emitted a sharp roar, instantly startling the water birds, ducks, and egrets on both sides of the riverbank, who fled in panic into the depths of the dense forest.

It walked step by step toward the tree-lined path, and with each step, its feet became more and more complete. You could see the dust and mud from the gravel path climbing up its body, gradually filling the tattered shell. However, its appearance wasn't much better; it was just a skeleton with a few more white, pasty muscles.

Neither Jason nor Jiang Xueming spoke.

Jason didn't speak because he was a little scared.

Jiang Xueming remained silent because Jason told him not to speak, and he was unsure whether he should speak at this moment.

When the spirit arrived at the stove and oil lamp used in the ritual, it kicked the ritual props away.

Jason finally snapped out of his daze, "WTF!!! Do you know how expensive this thing is?!"

The undead crouched down and roared at Jason, a piercing, sharp howl emanating from its swollen, deformed, and festering throat.

Jason's eyes immediately reddened. "You think you can scare me? You just kicked away the catalyst I bought for over 40,000 yuan? Just like that?"

The spirit of the dead hadn't even had a chance to speak—

Jason was furious. He took off his clothes, covered the water ghost with his coat, and began to beat it violently.

"Damn it! And a whole set of potion-making artifacts! I'll fucking kill you!"

"You're trying to scare me! Let me tell you, the only scary thing about this is that I'll get another half hour of yelling at me!"

Jiang Xueming watched from the side, confused. He didn't dare to speak, perhaps because this was part of the spirit-raising ceremony and it wasn't convenient to disturb Master Jason.

Jason retrieved the oil lamp and catalyst. Fortunately, the items were undamaged, but unfortunately, the oil and chemicals were contaminated—the water ghost had kicked half a pound of mud into the container, ruining the remaining seventy-odd milligrams of spices.

"Look what a despicable thing you've done! Look! Look at this!"

Jason grabbed the clothes and pulled up the water ghost's head.

"Mud! Grass! Dust! Aluminum cans! Chewing gum! And a damn condom?!"

"WTF?!"

"I had no idea I was learning a ritual to summon trash! I clearly performed a spirit-summoning ritual, so why did I summon a piece of trash?"

Do you think you're scary?

Jason punched the water ghost's head violently, shaking out the remaining water from its brain.

"I saw four like you when I was learning to swim at Boy Scout summer camp! Four of them!"

Just like you--

"--In a small puddle."

Mr. Jason looked disdainful and spoke in an exaggerated tone.

"Sitting in a row on a rotten log, they are losers in life, picking up the cigarette butts we threw into the lake and treating them like treasures."

Why are you kicking my things? Are you Brazilian? A water ghost like that actually wants to participate in the World Cup?

"Ghosts dream of football? My catalyst looks a lot like a football?"

"You're so amazing! You can whine and scream! You can crawl all the way from over 50 meters away to me, and then kick my precious catalyst into the sand!"

"From here! By the bench! I kicked into the sand! Thank goodness I fell into the sand!"

"You can go to disaster areas to help alleviate poverty, you can work on the front lines to carry bricks, you can be a model at a Halloween sale! You can do so many things! You can even help a magician with no talent to perform amazing magic tricks like making a person disappear or cutting them in two with a single stroke. You can do so many things! Such great things! Such incredible things!"

"Do I look like a down-on-his-luck magician? Turns out I'm a football coach?"

Jason finally removed the jacket from the water ghost's head.

At this moment, the unfortunate creature summoned by the ritual looked pitiful, its whole face drooping. It spun around in place, merely trying to put its twisted and deformed neck back into place.

After doing all that, it remained silent, no longer howling or screaming, and retreated back the way it had come.

Jason suddenly looked up. "Where are you going? Did I give you permission to leave?"

The water ghost circled back, removed the large octopus bone from its head, as if taking off its hat in apology.

Jason grabbed the gunsmith, snatched the fledgling, and, in a fit of rage, pulled on the slide to repeatedly chamber a round, ejecting the bullet that had already been loaded.

"Wash all my beakers and test tubes clean! Otherwise, I'll send you to meet the King of Hell!"

The bullet flew halfway before Jiang Xueming swiftly caught it back, and in the process, pushed the muzzle of the gun away. When Jason Megan talked about the King of Hell, he unconsciously pointed the gun at Xue Ming.

"I didn't. I didn't."

At this point, anything you said would be awkward. The undead, like a well-behaved child, put on cloth gloves and tidied up Jason's things next to the public restroom, emptying every container of oil and trash, finally breaking the awkward silence with a pitiful look.

A gurgling sound came from its throat, its vocal cords, constructed of green algae, vibrated.

"May I leave now?"

Xue Ming and Jason exchanged glances.

The two men lifted the water ghost onto a swing, like putting a prisoner on a tiger bench. Then they pulled out a logbook and began the interrogation.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about the avenue before?" Jason Megan pressed, seizing the key point. "Just four days ago, a couple of college students went into the park, and the girl was presumably murdered."

The water ghost clung to the two swing wires, listless and distracted.

"None of you have asked me anything or cared about me. You treat me like a prisoner."

Her tone was quite charming and innocent.

The gunsmith was equally blunt.

In that instant, his eyes turned terrifying. It was the murderous aura emanating from his inherently Ming De nature when he encountered evil spirits. His eyes, enhanced by his soul power, almost turned into vertical pupils, his tiger-like eyes wide open and his spiritual pressure radiating outwards.

The chill shot out like a sharp arrow, sending a shiver down Jason's spine.

After a long while, the water ghost remained silent.

Jiang Xueming composed his spiritual pressure and asked Jason.

"What's wrong with it? Ask it again, what's its attitude?"

Jason stepped forward and took a look, feeling a little embarrassed.

"--Tsk, just wait. I was terrified."