Facing Dean's reflections on the power of demon hunters, Sam nodded in wholehearted agreement.
His tall frame looked especially still beneath the dim headlights.
"Yes, Dean. We used to think we could handle everything on our own, but now it seems that against demon hordes spread across the world, individual strength is ultimately limited. The guild, and these new forces still growing—those are where hope lies."
Dean watched his younger brother studying the encrypted tablet, then rapped his knuckles against the iron punching post. "Hey, Sam, don't keep it all to yourself. What's the mission this time? Which blind demon is throwing a party in some backwater corner now?"
But Sam frowned and turned the tablet's screen toward Dean. "This target is a little unusual."
"Not a fixed demon nest, but a 'Ghost House.'" He pointed at the information on the screen. "According to urban legends and scattered reports gathered by the guild, this Ghost House has no fixed location. It randomly appears inside certain buildings and may even overlap with ordinary people's homes, existing in a state somewhere between reality and the supernatural."
Dean leaned closer. As he read the vague yet terror-filled accounts provided by netizens and survivors, his expression gradually turned grave.
The file stated:
The Ghost House had originally been an infamous private prison operated by a local gang boss. It was not only a breeding ground for wrongful convictions.
It also ran loan sharking operations, imprisoning countless ordinary people who had been driven bankrupt by insane interest rates, even using their bodies as collateral.
Rumors of hauntings had never ceased during the prison's operation. In the end, every inmate died under mysterious circumstances, the prison was abandoned, and the gang boss was brought to justice.
Later, it was bought by a retired businessman with a