An Aberrant

Yang Jian looked away.

The blue glow of the system panel lingered on his retinas for three seconds before vanishing automatically.

Five hundred thousand points.

A fifteen-day countdown.

Both figures seared themselves into his memory.

Inside the main hall, Satoru Gojo was hauling Riko back from the roots of the ancient tree by her collar. Both her feet kicked wildly in the air as she cursed up a storm. Suguru Geto stood beside them with a helpless smile.

Yang Jian did not join in.

He turned toward the elevator.

"Let's go."

The commotion behind him paused for a beat.

Footsteps soon followed.

The elevator ascended.

The scrape of steel cables filled the cramped space.

Riko leaned against Kuroi's shoulder. Traces of tears still clung to her eyelashes, but her breathing had steadied.

Kuroi kept her hand on Riko's shoulder, never letting go.

Satoru Gojo leaned against the elevator wall, both hands behind his head.

He turned to study Yang Jian for a few seconds.

Yang Jian ignored him.

The elevator reached ground level.

They walked out of the building.

The last streak of orange was fading from the horizon.

The summer evening breeze swept through the corridor, dispersing the subterranean chill that still clung to them.

"Mission complete," Suguru Geto said. "Riko and Miss Kuroi will stay at Jujutsu High for now. Mr. Yaga will arrange their accommodations afterward."

Riko lifted her head from Kuroi's shoulder and looked at Yang Jian.

"Thank you."

Her voice was soft. After speaking, she followed Kuroi toward the dormitories.

Yang Jian watched them disappear around the end of the corridor.

Satoru Gojo rolled his neck, his joints cracking sharply.

"What are you planning to do next?"

"Go back and sleep."

Satoru Gojo stared at him for two seconds.

The cursed energy radiating from him still far surpassed anything he had emitted before today.

After awakening Reverse Cursed Technique, Satoru Gojo was like a machine with its limiters completely removed. An oppressive aura seeped from every pore.

Yet Yang Jian looked at him no differently than he would a roadside vending machine.

Satoru Gojo finally shrugged and headed off in the opposite direction.

Suguru Geto did not follow immediately.

He stood where he was, watching Yang Jian's profile.

The last light of dusk cast a shadow along his outline.

"I owe you one for today."

Yang Jian waved a hand in acknowledgment.

Suguru Geto nodded, then turned and strode after Satoru Gojo.

The two tall, slender figures vanished around the corner of the school building, one behind the other.

The corridor fell completely silent.

Yang Jian returned to his dorm room alone.

He pushed the door open.

The room was exactly as he had left it. The unfinished can of cola still stood on the desk, and the low, steady hum of the air conditioner was the only sound.

Yang Jian locked the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed.

A pale blue system panel appeared in response, hovering half a meter in front of him.

[Current points: 600,500]

Yang Jian looked at the number.

Six hundred thousand.

In the past, he might not have managed to save that much in an entire year.

The Star Plasma Vessel Incident had covered all of it in one go, with some left over.

Red digits ticked away in the countdown column on the right side of the system.

[Time until the second paranormal invasion: 15 days / 359 hours, 47 minutes]

It decreased with every second.

Yang Jian looked away and switched to the points shop.

The listings stretched from top to bottom.

Ghost names mingled with the names of paranormal items, their prices ranging from a few thousand to hundreds of thousands.

He did not hesitate.

[Redeem: Ghost Spirit Tablet - 100,000 points]

[Redeem: Ghost Newspaper - 150,000 points]

[Redeem: Deceiving Ghost Necklace - 100,000 points]

[Redeem: Rusty Cleaver - 200,000 points]

Four confirmation prompts appeared in sequence.

Yang Jian selected "Confirm" on all of them.

[Redemption complete. Current points remaining: 50,500]

His six hundred thousand had dwindled to just over fifty thousand.

Yang Jian sensed all four items materialize at once.

The Ghost Spirit Tablet appeared first. A palm-sized black wooden tablet materialized beside Yang Jian's right hand, its surface densely engraved with characters whose twisted strokes resembled no known script. An extremely faint chill emanated from it.

The Ghost Newspaper followed, a bloodstained old newspaper drifting onto the bed.

The printed text was clearly legible, but its contents changed every few seconds, as though an invisible hand were constantly rewriting the page.

The Deceiving Ghost Necklace appeared silently in Yang Jian's left palm.

It was a silver chain with a thumb-sized, oval black gemstone hanging from the end. It felt icy, its temperature far below that of the room.

Last came the cleaver.

An old cleaver roughly fifty centimeters long embedded itself directly into the wooden headboard of Yang Jian's bed.

Dark red rust covered the blade, yet its edge was sharp enough to reflect a sliver of cold light. Within the rust lay grooves that followed a certain pattern, like the paths of blood vessels.

Yang Jian pulled the cleaver from the headboard and examined it.

After checking each of the four items, he began ranking his priorities in his mind.

The Ghost Newspaper and Ghost Spirit Tablet-those two were fusion materials for Ghost Shadow.

Once Ghost Shadow fused with the Ghost Newspaper, it would gain the ability to alter memories. After it fused with the Ghost Spirit Tablet, Yang Jian's consciousness would be able to switch freely between his physical body and Ghost Shadow, making him an aberrant among ghost handlers.

Together, these two abilities meant an absolute advantage in gathering intelligence.

The Deceiving Ghost Necklace could create matter other than gold out of thin air, including human bodies. Combined with the Ghost Newspaper's ability to implant memories-

In theory, he could resurrect someone.

At least, it would be a perfect replica on the outside.

Yang Jian turned the necklace over twice in his fingers, recalling the twenty-four-hour trial card the system had issued earlier.

That card had been for the Deceiving Ghost Necklace.

Unfortunately, he had never found a use for it throughout the entire Star Plasma Vessel Incident.

It did not matter.

Now that he had the permanent version, whether he saved the trial card made no difference.

Last was the cleaver.

Yang Jian rubbed his thumb over the rust on the spine of the blade.

Its role was simple-a paranormal weapon for countering ghosts.

During a paranormal invasion, the abilities of a ghost domain alone were far from enough.

Some malevolent ghosts had to be dismembered, their own puzzle pieces broken apart to weaken them before they could be contained.

The cleaver, paired with containment tools made of gold, would complete his arsenal against ghosts.

He set the cleaver back beside the bed.

Yang Jian closed his eyes.

He drew on Ghost Shadow's power within him.

Yang Jian pushed the Ghost Newspaper and Ghost Spirit Tablet toward the black shadow behind him at the same time.

The instant the two paranormal items touched Ghost Shadow, they were drawn into the mass of darkness.

Ghost Shadow's outline shuddered violently.

The bloodstained newspaper rapidly unfolded and folded within the black shadow, melting into flowing ink.

The wooden Ghost Spirit Tablet shattered into countless tiny fragments. Each bore those twisted characters, spinning as it sank into Ghost Shadow's head.

The entire process lasted about ten seconds.

Ghost Shadow stabilized again.

Yang Jian sensed two new abilities.

Accessing and altering memories, and freely switching his consciousness between his physical body and Ghost Shadow.

He opened his eyes.

A new notification appeared on the system panel.

[Ghost Shadow has fused with the Ghost Newspaper and Ghost Spirit Tablet. Abilities updated.]

[Remaining item available for fusion: Music Box (not owned)]

The Music Box. Forty thousand points.

I still have just over fifty thousand. I can afford it.

But Yang Jian did not place an order immediately.

It's not much use right now.

He looked back at the red countdown.

[Time until the second paranormal invasion: 14 days / 359 hours, 46 minutes]

Less than fifteen days.

The second one won't be so easy.

He needed to get all the cards in his hand sorted out within fifteen days.

The Ghost Eye, Ghost Shadow, the Deceiving Ghost Necklace, the cleaver, gold containment tools, red and white ghost candles, the Substitute Doll, the Straw Rope Circle.

Will they be enough?

Yang Jian picked up the can of cola from the desk, tilted his head back, and took a gulp.

The cola was no longer cold, and most of its fizz had dissipated. All that remained was the cloying taste of sugar water.

He set the can down.

"System."

[Here.]

"Can I check the strength levels of the malevolent ghosts in a paranormal invasion ahead of time?"

[Unable to query.]

Yang Jian fell silent for a few seconds.

"Then I'll wait."

He closed the panel and fell backward onto the bed.

The air conditioner's vent blades on the ceiling turned at a steady pace.

The smell of rust from the cleaver mingled with the fading sweetness of cola, filling the small room.

Fifteen days.

Yang Jian closed his eyes.

Ghost Shadow silently returned to the floor behind him.

The room grew quiet again.

Only the air conditioner's hum and the ticking countdown continued in the darkness.

Meanwhile.

Somewhere in Tokyo Metropolis, in a rundown apartment building.

A black-haired boy crouched at the end of the corridor.

He was about four or five, dressed in a blue T-shirt washed so often it had faded.

A large black dog crouched in front of him.

The boy reached out and stroked the dog's head.

The apartment door was pushed open from inside.

A tall man stepped out.

His body was corded with muscle, and several fresh scrapes marked his face.

Toji Fushiguro looked down at the boy.

The boy raised his head and met his eyes.

Toji's expression was complicated.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he said nothing.

He pulled a stack of bills from his pocket, set it on the floor beside the boy, then turned and went down the stairs.

His footsteps gradually faded away.

The boy did not reach for the money.

He kept stroking Black Dog's head.

The dog's shadow looked strange under the hallway lights-it was a full size larger than the dog's own outline.