Playing Ghosts, Part Two

"Without a doubt, this is a supernatural event."

Inside the apartment, a group of secretly selected police officers surrounded the young man hanging from the ceiling, taking photos and making records while whispering to one another.

"The target is Fujiwara Yamato, 31 years old this year."

"He entered the Hayami Conglomerate seven years ago, working as a salesman for the Meguro Company, but was dismissed three years ago due to poor performance."

"About six months later, the financially strapped Fujiwara Yamato joined the Taoka Finance Company, becoming a member of their 'debt collection' division."

After receiving the alarm call from the man's father, which suggested a connection to the 'supernatural,' the Metropolitan Police Department immediately dispatched personnel to inspect the apartment. The information relayed from the scene clearly revealed an eerie atmosphere, prompting a large contingent of elites to rush over without a moment's delay.

"The Inoshita House has already been cordoned off."

"The people the target had contact with are currently being tracked."

"Surveillance footage capturing Fujiwara Yamato along his route is currently being extracted."

With the supernatural involved, the entire Metropolitan Police Department went all out, and various intelligence reports regarding Fujiwara Yamato poured into the Metropolitan Police Department in Chiyoda Kasumigaseki from all directions like snowflakes.

Even without stepping outside, the big shots were still able to control every move within Tokyo.

The prerequisite, of course, was that the matter was significant enough to attract their attention.

"Mr. Takeya, thank you for opening up cooperation regarding 'supernatural' matters."

In the 'Special Operations Office' of the Metropolitan Police Department, besides the Japanese personnel, there was a group of blond-haired, blue-eyed white men.

"And thank you for the support your side has provided."

While exchanging pleasantries with the middle-aged white man wearing the rank of 'Brigadier General' beside him, Director Takeya commanded the operations on the scene.

That's right, when it came to the supernatural, although Japan was 'rarely' united from top to bottom, how could they possibly refuse the intervention of America?

If they really pushed them too far, given America's style of operation, it wasn't impossible for them to take direct action! For the sake of oil, America could ignite the flames of war everywhere and manipulate civil wars between political parties in numerous countries; now that they had learned of the appearance of the 'supernatural,' besides the Seventh Fleet, two other Pacific fleets were already rushing toward Japan.

Japan, having put on a tough front, decided to quit while they were ahead, and both sides finalized a series of cooperation treaties:

America would provide technology, researchers, and weaponry, while Japan would be required to disclose all information related to the supernatural to America.

In short, Japan would bear the risks, and they would share the fruits of the labor together. Although it still sounded very 'unequal,' it was no exaggeration to say that this was already a 'huge victory' for Japan in the last hundred years.

It was better than being eaten alive and left with nothing.

And this white Brigadier General was, naturally, the 'inspector' sent by America.

"This is an incident involving an evil spirit."

Afraid that the superior official might not understand, Director Takeya thought for a moment before explaining it in a more colloquial way.

"The target accidentally entered this building where the resident had already died, and scammed the soul of an old woman who had been dead for 43 days. Afterward, he began to experience hallucinations."

As eyewitness accounts, surveillance from various locations, and especially the footage from the apartment's doorbell camera were extracted, the movements of Fujiwara Yamato were gradually pieced together.

Following America's intervention, the need for 'secrecy' had been significantly reduced; over a hundred experienced police officers had searched the places Fujiwara Yamato had been nearly a dozen times, ensuring not even a single strand of hair was missed.

In the conference room, the doorbell surveillance footage was playing:

Fujiwara Yamato's expression changed drastically, and immediately after, his hands were frantically clawing at something in thin air.

Then he quickly entered the apartment, seemingly trying to hide from an unknown presence.

Not long after, the sound of a hammer striking could be heard.

"After returning to the apartment, he destroyed the doorbell camera, pulled out the telephone line, and hid under his covers."

However, it was of no use! Judging from the on-site investigation, Fujiwara Yamato was under extreme mental tension at that time: the apartment walls were covered in the remnants of his frantic hammer swings, and there were large splashes of sweat on the floor.

"Finally, with his mind on the verge of collapse, Fujiwara Yamato called his father."

"He confessed to the fact that he had become a 'phone scammer,' and at the same time—"

At the end of Fujiwara Yamato's call, there was the voice of an old woman:

Is my son doing well?

This information was provided by Fujiwara Yamato's father.

"That is how the events transpired. Brigadier General Thomas, what is your take?"

Faced with Director Takeya's inquiry, even Thomas—a man with a physique that strained his general's uniform, short blonde hair standing on end, and the look of a battle-hardened soldier—could not help but feel a headache coming on.

"That old woman's soul left no traces behind?"

"Yes."

"With our current technological means, we have not detected any traces."

Director Takeya added, "Perhaps one must witness it with their own eyes to observe its existence."

But by the time that happened, the only thing to consider would be how to save one's own life.

Fujiwara Yamato had been suspended in mid-air by the telephone line, hanging from the ceiling, with nothing beneath his feet to stand on—which meant the possibility of 'hallucinatory suicide' could be completely ruled out.

"We have other evidence, please look—"

On the monitor screen, an armored vehicle was slowly approaching a detached house bearing the nameplate 'Inoue.'

The rear door opened, and several pet handlers pushed an alloy dog cage out of the vehicle.

The next second, The Shiba Inu, which had been lying lazily in the cage, suddenly sprang to its feet!

It stared at the building ahead, arching its back and baring its teeth while emitting a threatening, low growl.

"This is our side. The 'supernatural creature' we have under our control has sensed something from this building, which proves it."

"The old lady's soul still exists?"

"That is merely a hypothesis."

"We have already arrested all members of the fraud organization associated with Fujiwara Yamato."

Adjusting his non-prescription glasses, Director Takeya continued calmly.

"We will make scam calls to the Inoue household again."

"We will screen volunteers who fit the profile of a 'money collector' and have them enter the Inoue house to observe whether Mrs. Inoue will appear once more."

This is of vital importance!

It concerns whether the soul truly exists.

As for that poor 'volunteer,' for the sake of the nation's greater good, some sacrifices are always inevitable.

The cold-blooded intent behind those words was palpable!

?

"Not bad, I leave it to you to handle."

The Brigadier General nodded. If it were up to him, he would naturally start by firing a base load of artillery shells to see what was so strange about this building.

Ever since he learned of the existence of the 'supernatural' and encountered this bizarre 'case' upon his arrival, the once-domineering soldier had become cautious.

The soul, This invisible, intangible thing.

No matter how much one trains their body, no matter how armed to the teeth his boys are, and even with the military backing of a superpower, he still felt a lack of confidence.

Although America's horror films favor gore and usually end with 'physical exorcism,' there are also works like A Nightmare on Elm Street, featuring the likes of Freddy, who wanders through dreams and is impossible to kill—a figure that is undoubtedly a nightmare from the childhood of many Americans.

Watching the island nation's police methodically arrest people, screen 'volunteers,' and set up the 'experimental site.'

Above the main entrance, which had already been classified as a 'haunted house,' the 'wind chime' felt very gratified.

That's right, The wind chime hanging above the gate of the Inoue house was Akihi Yu's Paper Clone.

Through this Paper Clone, Akihi Yu could cast illusions on those who entered the house—illusions are nothing to a real ninja.

As long as one disrupts the flow of mana, they can break an illusion. 'Genjutsu: Release' cannot even be considered a ninjutsu; its difficulty doesn't even reach the lowest E-rank.

Therefore, most illusion-type ninjas are primarily support. Only a small fraction who specialize in frontal combat with illusions usually possess various special bloodlines: such as the Uchiha, Kurama, or Hozuki clans.

And in this world, all mana originates from Akihi Yu!

Facing his illusions, even the lowest-level ones, once caught, are extremely difficult to break free from. If Akihi Yu were willing, he could even make a D-rank illusion produce the effect of Tsukuyomi!

What is the most formidable aspect of Tsukuyomi? Isn't it that it cannot be dispelled and must be resisted solely by willpower?

Resisting Tsukuyomi, even the Sixth Hokage Kakashi ended up bedridden for months.

So, how will you respond next?

The wind chime swayed, Akihi Yu sat back and waited for the island nation to make its move.

PS: Let me clarify, I am not that 'Rain-After-No-Knife' who constantly abandons his books; I am just a small-time web novelist writing on the same subject.

Actually, you can tell from the writing style: while that guy's character is hard to comment on, he does have skill. Every book he abandons gets constant recommendations, heads straight for the Sanjiang list, and then gets cut. He is the object of envy, jealousy, and hatred for many struggling authors. My book only managed to get a contract at 60,000 words, and my first recommendation is still nowhere in sight.

That guy just set his starting point at Qidian too high; when the results weren't satisfactory, he cut the book, and cutting too many created a vicious cycle. Among the fan-fiction writers in Group Nine, he can be considered a classic cautionary tale.

Mistaking me for him is really giving me too much credit. So, there is no need to worry about me abandoning this book; after all, for a struggling author like me, my requirements are very low—managing to earn a subsistence allowance is already a success.