At eight o'clock that night.
Inside the top-floor office of Shangtong Building.
Yang Jian sat in his chair, idly turning over an oil lamp made of gold. Though it was unlit, the blackened, murky wick faintly gave off the stench of rotting corpses.
He removed his gloves and lightly touched the wick with his charred fingers.
The oil lamp immediately lit up.
"As expected, the furnace fire still burning on the ghost hand can light this Corpse Oil Lamp. After all, corpse oil is also a form of the supernatural."
Yang Jian promptly put his gloves back on and extinguished the flame again.
But this was merely a small experiment to pass the time.
Just then, Huang Ziya pushed open the door and entered. "Captain, the people from the Spirit Extermination Society are here."
"Let them in." Yang Jian set the oil lamp aside and looked up.
"You may come in now."
Huang Ziya glanced behind her, then walked over to the sofa and sat down. With a flick of her thick, jet-black hair, she looked elegant yet carried an unconventional air.
Very soon.
A group of people marched into the office in orderly steps.
At the front was a middle-aged man in a suit. Yang Jian vaguely remembered him; his name seemed to be Wang Xin. As for the subordinates behind him, Yang Jian had no interest in learning each of their names.
"Hello, Captain Yang. We meet again."
Wang Xin immediately smiled and greeted him warmly and amicably.
"Hello, Mr. Yang."
The six suited subordinates behind him bowed together to show their respect.
Yang Jian waved a hand. "No need to be so formal. How is President Mishima of your Spirit Extermination Society?"
"Thanks to Mr. Yang, President Mishima is in good health and has been diligently managing