Spirit-Touch Power

Ordinary blood replenishment only repairs physical injuries. While it does provide some replenishment to the spirit and soul because blood is the essence of the body, it is extremely limited—almost negligible.

Once the mental exhaustion passes, what is needed most is rest and recovery—rest for the soul, not the body.

He pondered: since his soul power was now strong enough to manifest as perception, and this perception range provided a boost to dispelling the eerie female ghost, could he channel this perception and apply it directly to his fists?

The kimono-clad female ghost seemed to sense something was wrong; Wu Heng's punch and slap had made her feel danger.

The ghost actually released her grip on Wu Heng's throat, using her fingernails, stained with black blood, to claw at his chest.

A harsh, grating sound rang out, much like a knife scraping against ox tendon.

The ghost's hands could pierce through his clothes directly. The cloth armor Wu Heng wore under his casual wear could resist a shotgun at close range, yet it could not stop her ghostly claws, leaving streaks of blood across his chest.

However, these wounds healed in an instant; the blood within the Life Box in his chest was constantly supplying his heart, maintaining his body's recovery.

The ghost could not break through his skin defense at all.

Wu Heng simply ignored her, standing in place to focus his mind, attempting to drive the perception within a foot of his body and control it.

As his focus and mental concentration overlapped, the perception, which had been like an inverted golden bell, slowly began to change shape.

The golden bell formed by his perception was gradually pulled away from his feet and retracted toward his upper body, where the perception became increasingly refined.

At this moment, the perception felt like a short vest. Wu Heng did not stop; he continued to contract it, controlling it to spread toward his right arm.

The vest formed by his perception changed again, flowing like gelatin toward his right arm, slowly covering his fist and wrapping around the limb.

An ordinary person might not see it, but from Wu Heng's perspective, the compressed perception clung to his right arm, shimmering with a flowing light.

His right arm now looked as if it were encased in a phantom mechanical gauntlet similar to Iron Man's, or perhaps like the layer of aura that covers a character after unleashing a move in an anime.

At this point, the perception was no longer a diffuse, encompassing field; it was combined with his fist, a lethal technique capable of delivering impact alongside his physical strength.

"With this punch, I will make you vanish into dust!"

Wu Heng threw a punch, scattering the air and whistling as it smashed fiercely into the ghost's pale, resentful face.

Puff!

It felt like flicking ash off a cigarette.

The kimono-clad ghost turned into a mass of black mist, which seemed to possess mass as it scattered onto the ground.

The black mist struggled to coalesce, drifting toward the side of the road; at one moment a partial leg would appear, at the next a partial head, but it would instantly dissipate back into mist.

"You come and go as you please!"

Wu Heng lunged like a fierce tiger, flashing over the black shadow. His right fist completely annihilated the mist, and everything returned to calm.

He sensed that these two punches had consumed a great deal of his mental energy.

At his current mental strength, he could throw at most a hundred such punches in a row before needing a full day of rest to recover to peak condition.

Wu Heng decided to call this compressed perception Spirit-Touch Power.

As the name implied, it was a power capable of touching spiritual entities. However, this power was still very weak, similar to the "blood-energy furnace" from the novels of his past life that could shake apart ordinary evil spirits; he still needed to strike to disperse these common ghostly bodies.

On the night market of Heisong Street, rows of stalls were brightly lit. The air was filled with the scent of various snacks, and people wove between the stalls, smiling and bowing respectfully to one another while children chased and played.

"Arigato, we look forward to your next visit!"

Behind a stall selling tempura and takoyaki, a delicate girl in an apron bowed to see off a customer.

Wu Heng wore a brand-new black trench coat, holding a box of tempura in his left hand and a bag of takoyaki hooked under his index finger, eating as he continued to stroll.

He still preferred trench coats; the pockets were large enough to hide plenty of things, and it was stylish enough.

The night market looked prosperous and full of laughter.

Yet, Wu Heng could feel a sense of numbness and dead silence permeating the place. His perception, far beyond that of an ordinary person, allowed him to see the paranoid madness hidden beneath the fake smiles of these people.

Wu Heng could only sigh that the people of this island nation who had survived until now were truly lucky; this story world was clearly filled with all sorts of eerie things.

He walked from one end of the street to the other and had already spotted three people who were clearly abnormal—short of breath and spirit, looking like they were cursed and wouldn't live long—but he had no intention of interfering.

These things had nothing to do with him, as long as they didn't pester him.

Having eaten his fill and finished his stroll, Wu Heng decided to get away from the snack street. He walked along the road for another five minutes and set his sights on an inn called Moriya Inn.

"Mr. Echizen, the stay is 2,300 yen, the deposit is 2,000, here is your 700 yen change."

"This is your personal ID card and room key. Please keep them safe and follow me."

The landlord, a thin-faced man in his 40s wearing a gray shirt, handed Wu Heng three coins and two cards before turning to lead the way.

The personal ID card was his identification, and the name on it was: Echizen Genichiro.

Wu Heng took it and glanced at the room key: 'Moriya Inn, Room 203'.

He tucked them into his trench coat pocket and followed the middle-aged man up the stairs, moving through a narrow passage less than a meter wide between the inner walls.

"Mr. Tanimoto from 203 left in such a hurry yesterday that he didn't even ask for his deposit back; it just happened to open up today."

"Mr. Tanimoto was a regular, too. I'll return it to him next time we meet. We believe in honesty in business."

"Mr. Echizen, this way please!"

The middle-aged landlord chatted idly as he reached the second floor, then bowed slightly and gestured toward the left with a respectful air.

Wu Heng nodded and walked forward.

"Why like this, why like this, yes, like this, aligned, that's better!"

As he passed by Room 202, a young man with a center-part hairstyle was squatting in front of a shoe cabinet, muttering to himself as he arranged the wooden clogs on the shelf side-by-side, perfectly aligned, only letting out a sigh of relief once they were precise.

"Mr. Toyota, tidying up the shoes? You really are meticulous!" the landlord greeted him.

"Hi, Mr. Landlord." Toyota had only just looked up to respond when he stopped; the smile vanished from his face, and he stood up solemnly to walk over to the landlord.

"They must be aligned like this, Mr. Landlord. Why are you so untidy?"

Toyota reached out and smoothed the curled collar of the landlord's shirt along the edge, flattening both sides until they were perfectly neat, only then letting out a breath of relief.

"Hi! I am truly sorry, Mr. Toyota. I will be sure to pay attention to my appearance next time."

The landlord bowed deeply to express his apology.

"I'll leave it to you, then." After Toyota bowed in return, he ran off to shift the shoe rack, aligning its edge with the seam of the wooden wall, only then revealing a satisfied smile.

Wu Heng could sense that this was just a slightly obsessive normal person, so he didn't pay it any mind and followed along to Room 203.

"Na, na, na, why did you dirty the floor again?"

Once the two had passed, Toyota saw the footprints left by Wu Heng's shoes and excitedly grabbed a mop to clean them up.

The dark red bedroom door opened to reveal a pale yellow wooden three-tier partition, dividing the entire bedroom into three sections from the inside out.

The innermost section was a tatami sleeping area, while the outermost section was surprisingly equipped with household kitchenware.