There was no other reason. The returns were simply too low.
The ghosts were far too weak. Fang Xiu couldn't get any side-quest missions out of them, though the reward points at least offered a little profit.
As for the glamorous goddesses of Hong Kong cinema, he was even less interested in them. At most, he'd admire them for a couple of seconds—he wasn't some sex-crazed dog, after all.
They weren't even as interesting as a man named Leon.
He was played by Stephen Chow and came from Out of the Dark.
It started when Fang Xiu passed by a psychiatric hospital and immediately sensed a man inside with decent mental strength and unusually active brainwaves.
Unfortunately, that was all he was: interesting.
Unless Leon left this world and escaped the constraints of its overall power level, there wasn't much to him. Apart from the Fusang Ghost King and Hermit Caolu, along with the Gold and Silver Generals, that group of time travelers from the reign of the Hongzhi Emperor in the Ming dynasty five hundred years ago, Hong Kong Ghost Stories had a low overall power level.
The Main God had probably taken into account the fact that Shazhou Team consisted mostly of newcomers.
After all, the prerequisite for starting a raising-gu method was having plenty of people with potential—not just applying extreme pressure nonstop. If you pulled the chives out by the roots before they even sprouted, there'd be nothing left to harvest.
"Tsk. Now, if a forty-first-generation heir of the Ma family showed up, calling herself Ma Xiaoling, that would really be a breakdown of the setting."
"Pangu bloodline, Fate bloodline, King Fuxi, casually destroying the world... Hashirama would have a hard time dealing with that."
The Three-Tomoe Sharingan turned gently.
Inside a police station plagued by ghost stories, Fang Xiu murmured to himself. With his current perception, he couldn't sense any increase in his ocular power! Just moments ago, a group of old Japanese ghosts from World War II had been ground down and devoured by the Sharingan. There was a police station on Hong Kong Island that had once been a military camp during the Japanese invasion more than thirty years ago. After their defeat, many officers had committed seppuku there. Local rumors said their spirits had never left, and that they still lingered in the station, appearing on the day of the Hungry Ghost Festival.
It was worth mentioning that the major Issey Miyake had turned into a vengeful ghost who looked just like the Fusang Ghost King. Fang Xiu had perked up, thinking he'd found a fat little lamb that might yield a few side quests.
But...
—Killed a century-old evil ghost. Earned 300 reward points.
The Main God Watch updated.
What a waste of that ultimate-villain face.
"Has all the profit in this world already been squeezed dry? Is the reward pool fixed?"
Fang Xiu was full of disappointment and muttering to himself when the image on the television flickered. "What kind of person do you think the killer is?"
"Do you think this case involves political infighting?"
"Can you speak Mandarin? If not, how will you investigate the case?"
On the screen, a crowd of reporters surrounded a foreigner in a suit. He merely wore a practiced smile and asked in English, "Does anyone know where Officer Huang Huotu is?"
A familiar feeling welled up inside him.
He glanced at the location in the report—Wan Island! Then, having watched countless films, Fang Xiu recalled a few details that matched the news reports that followed.
It was the end of the seventh lunar month, and the heat of summer still lingered. Taipei was like a steamer. The chairman of a listed chemical company was found drowned in ice water in his office. He was wrapped in a blanket, with fragments of ice in his nostrils. His epidermis and the deeper dermal tissue had both frozen solid.
The second victim was a legislator's mistress. Her death was even more bizarre. As she bathed, water kept pouring from the showerhead, and yet she had somehow been burned alive.
What's more, when the police examined the scene, they found no trace of a fire anywhere.
The autopsy showed that the woman had died after being roasted from the inside out by intense heat...
The third victim was a priest. His death was bizarre in its own way: his abdomen had been cut open, his organs removed and washed with clean water, then stuffed back inside.
The wound had been stitched into a strange talisman!
In terms of their social connections, the three victims had absolutely nothing in common. Yet the Wan Island police classified the three deaths as serial murders, because the latest report revealed—
A forensic examination had found an unknown mold in the nasal cavities, respiratory tracts, and even the thalami of all three victims.
Due to outdated technology, they couldn't provide a detailed report... "Double Vision?"
"Interesting."
"In the Hong Kong Ghost Stories universe, places outside Xiangjiang aren't exactly peaceful either. For all I know, a series of horror stories is trending in America right now."
There were three days left before he returned to the Main God's space. Fang Xiu couldn't find any worthwhile targets, but just as he started feeling sleepy, a pillow came along. A new location, a new case—it seemed to be calling him somehow.
Go, or stay?
The choice was right in front of him.
Without a moment's hesitation, he vanished into thin air.
Next, Fang Xiu used Genjutsu to take control of a plane flying straight to Wanwan. Not a single crew member noticed that a man who'd bought a standing ticket had joined them. As the plane flew, he pieced together the plot—
At the end of the film, the police followed the clues and discovered that the case was connected to a Taoist temple hidden inside an office building.
So, after another person died, a large number of officers headed to the temple to arrest the suspect. The Taoist and his followers, armed with sharp weapons, violently resisted arrest, creating a horrifying bloodbath and openly defying the authorities.
Of course, once firearms came into play and the counterterrorism unit arrived, the followers and their leader were either shot on the spot or thrown in prison.
Up to that point, it was just a clichéd story with a supernatural veneer.
But what Fang Xiu remembered most vividly was the huge twist at the end. Beneath the floor of the temple, the police found a girl. She was badly injured and had been used to cultivate that unknown mold.
Just when everyone thought the truth had come to light, it turned out that the girl receiving treatment at the hospital was the real mastermind.
Her true identity was that she was one of two ancient Taoists reincarnated!
The one reincarnated as the older sister had died in the womb. The girl said her sister had completed her merits and become an immortal, while she herself was still short of the mark and needed to use the Five Hells Ascension Method, as Huang Daxian had done during the Song dynasty.
An evil immortal?
A True Immortal?
The story had two different endings.
The girl ascended as she wished, promising the protagonist, Huang Huotu, that she'd take him with her once the ritual was complete:
As he was wheeled out of the building, his wife frantically pounded on Huang Huotu's chest, trying to restart his heart, but there was still no response. His soul was about to leave his body.
As he hovered between life and death, the officer saw what he treasured most in his final moments: happy memories of himself with his daughter and wife. Just then, as if she'd sensed something, his daughter shouted, "Dad!"
Tears ran from the cold corpse's eyes, and his heartbeat returned. Clearly, the male lead hadn't chosen to ascend with the girl. He'd stayed in the human world.
In the other version, Huang Huotu made a very pragmatic decision and ascended to immortality. The inscription on his gravestone after his death read:
"Love brings sorrow, love brings fear. Those who are free from love know neither sorrow nor fear."
"I hope this gives me a few more surprises."
"These so-called immortals..."
The emotions stirring within Fang Xiu caused the Three-Tomoe Sharingan to quietly shift into its Mangekyō form. His desire to explore and fight outweighed his fear.
There was risk, and there was reward! Update's here.
Sorry it's a little late.
But there's nothing I can do. Us wage slaves work overtime every day. I didn't get home on my little electric scooter until eight thirty, and I started writing as soon as I got back. I sleep no more than six and a half hours a day.
Lastly, thanks to all you wonderful readers for your support and encouragement. This struggling author bows in gratitude~
Before you continue