The Butcher Shop Wasn't a Butcher Shop

Blood splattered over the clay statues of Ghosts and gods. The Spirit Medium's headless body remained kneeling amid the talismans scattered across the floor.

"If fate won't give it to me, I'll take it myself."

Situ An stood before the Spirit Medium's corpse, letting those Ghost God Statues stare at him.

As he wiped the blood from the Bone-Cleaver, black lettering began appearing on his body. "After consuming the Flesh and Blood, investigators from the East District's six Investigation Offices died in an average of seventeen hours. Those with stronger wills remained sane longer and survived longer as a result."

"When you die, your body will be mine." The unfamiliar man's voice rang out again.

"Since I left the first basement level, you've fought me for control of my body seven times. Have you succeeded even once?" Situ An stepped over the talismans and left the room. Rather than pursue Gao Ming, he returned underground and set his sights on the surrounded Yan Hua.

After nineteen minutes of brutal torture at the Vengeful Ghost's hands, Gao Ming escaped, covered in wounds. At first, he could barely walk, but as time passed, every beat of his heart pumped fresh strength into his body.

The horrific blade wounds slowly healed, but the black lettering on Gao Ming's body also grew.

That Flesh and Blood heart seems different from the other meat.

The meat in the building was desire, was the self. Eating it was more like entering into some kind of exchange with the Flesh-and-Blood Immortal.

The living gave up everything they had in return for the temporary power to fight Ghosts.

The Flesh and Blood heart, however, seemed more like the Flesh-and-Blood Immortal's true body. Eating it meant not an exchange, but becoming it—or even replacing it.

As his legs grew