Late at night.
A ghost named Auclair wandered through Lower City in Plymouth.
Its expression was indifferent. Ordinary people could not see it directly with the naked eye, yet they could feel a shudder rising from the depths of their souls.
Possessing Auclair, Aaron passed through building after building and slipped into Vulture's headquarters.
His eyes lit up at the sight of sprawling pools of blood. Near the entrance lay corpses facing outward, as though they had desperately tried to escape.
The terror and distortion before death were perfectly etched onto their faces. Together with the blackened pools of blood beneath them, they resembled an ink painting from hell.
"It doesn't seem to have been discovered yet. Because of Vulture's prior arrangements, their headquarters was already quite well-hidden, and it was protected by curse power extremely unfriendly to ordinary people..."
Of course, such defenses were as thin as paper to an "evil spirit" of the Fourth Primordial—one poke, and they would break.
Auclair's ghost drifted into the hall. He saw McG, sprawled in a pool of blood with despair written all over his face, and even more Beyonders... The spirituality within some of them had dispersed, while that of others had crystallized and precipitated, gleaming across the floor in a riot of colors.
With a light beckoning gesture from Aaron, those spiritual remnants flew to the table before him as if lifted by an invisible force, piling into a small mountain.
He looked around, then his soul body passed directly through the wall, where he found a safe hidden behind an oil painting.
Inside the safe, the first level held large quantities of Gold Pounds, gemstones, pearls, as well as stocks, bonds, and property deeds.
The second level contained some spiritual materials. The most valuable item was a mystical item,