Mysterious Revival: Starting by Controlling the Person-Hiding Ghost, Part 16

"The ghosts we currently know about are the Ghost Rope, the Hunger Ghost, the Ghost Hand, and the half of the Person-Hiding Ghost that escaped. If they all gathered together, I'm afraid an unpredictable chemical reaction would occur, creating an even more terrifying disaster."

"From what we can tell so far, the Ghost Rope should have already gathered with another ghost."

The group fell silent, and the person on the other end of the phone seemed to sink into thought as well.

A moment later, the person on the other end spoke again:

"Tell me the patterns of the ghosts you know about. I'll find a way to have the patterns of the vicious ghosts broadcast outside, to reduce the casualties as much as possible."

"No problem. The ghost I have isn't of much use at the moment, so I don't mind making its pattern public. The patterns of the Ghost Rope and the Hunger Ghost are basically clear too. It's just that I haven't seen the Ghost Hand yet, so its pattern is still unknown," Jiang Li replied.

"I might know the general pattern of the Ghost Hand," Zhang Han said. "I was closest to it when it revived, but it didn't attack me. Instead, it bypassed the person close at hand to attack Yang Jian, who was hanging from the Ghost Rope."

"I guess... its killing pattern is to attack people whose feet are off the ground. I don't know if that's right."

Jiang Li pondered for a moment, then suddenly understood.

No wonder the monk at Hongfa Temple had been fine, while his junior brother had come to harm.

Most likely, when the Ghost Hand wandered near the temple, his junior brother had happened to carry water inside in the dark and stumbled over the threshold, triggering the pattern of having both feet off the ground. That was why the ghost had targeted him and dragged him underground.

"Zhang Han, you're a genius."

"So that's the ghost's pattern?" Wang Xiaoming said. "I'll go arrange for this information to be broadcast now. You should also get ready to deal with the Hunger Ghost as soon as possible."

"Remember, the Hunger Ghost takes priority over everything. The other ghosts can be set aside for now. As soon as the Ghost Domain disperses, the people in charge of other cities will come to support you."

"I understand," Yang Jian replied. "How are things in the safe house? Is everyone all right?"

"Reasonably well. The two armed police officers selected to come in have been very diligent. They've calmed and mediated several disputes in the safe house," Wang Xiaoming said calmly. "It's that woman of yours named Jiang Yan who isn't doing too well."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Something was banging on the wall outside the safe house, and she was very frightened. Just now, Zhang Wei made a ghost face and gave her a scare, and she's been crying ever since," Wang Xiaoming said.

"Zhang Wei was probably trying to cheer her up, but his good intentions made things worse." Yang Jian sighed. "Don't be too hard on them. They just act a little immature sometimes. When it comes to matters of right and wrong, they still know what matters."

"I don't need to be hard on him," Wang Xiaoming said, while some slapping sounds came from the other end of the phone. "Hear that? Zhang Wei's dad is already teaching him a lesson. He's almost beaten his butt bloody."

"Good for him. Now I can rest easy."

With that, Yang Jian hung up.

Just then, Jiang Li and Zhang Han returned to Yang Jian with the gold foil and handed it to him.

"Now that we've got the Coffin Nail, what are your plans for what comes next?"

"I'm in good shape right now. I'm planning to try invading the Hunger Ghost's Ghost Domain, then find a chance to drive this Coffin Nail into its head."

Chapter 24: A Resident Who Died in Despair

In an apartment building in downtown Dachang City.

A middle-aged man was curled up on the sofa in his living room, constantly rubbing his hair, his face full of indifference and exhaustion.

Because he liked staying home, he had stockpiled plenty of drinks, instant noodles, and all kinds of convenience foods. Only then had he managed to scrape by at home while waiting for rescue.

Since a certain day, many eerie figures had been roaming outside his security door. Cautious as he was, he knew perfectly well that none of them were human.

The piercing broadcast sounded outside the window as usual, but this time its contents seemed somewhat different.

Besides the Hunger Ghost, which had originally been broadcast about every day, this time there was information on several other ghosts, along with their different killing patterns.

The Ghost Hand, the Ghost Rope, the Person-Hiding Ghost?

All kinds of strange ghosts had popped up with information about themselves, just like in a card game.

What on earth had happened to this world?

Forget it. He didn't want to care, as long as he could stay alive at home.

At home, he had a warm bed, his favorite snacks, and his pet cat.

The man took out his phone and briefly noted down the gist of the broadcast, then got up to find himself something simple to eat.

To avoid being seen from outside, he hadn't even dared light a candle at home. He relied on glow sticks he had dug out of the storage room to light everything he did.

An opened bag of original-flavor potato chips from yesterday sat on the table. They had gone stale and no longer tasted good. The man picked up a half-finished bottle of iced black tea and took a small sip, then frowned.

"It's only been sitting for two nights and it's already gone bad. At this rate, I won't have anything to drink in less than three days. This is really hopeless."

"Forget it. I'll open another bottle."

The man crouched beside the sofa, rummaging through and choosing from the snacks piled in a cardboard box.

Suddenly, he gave a violent shudder. It felt as though something chilly had brushed past his butt.

"Tumao, is that you?"

The man turned around, only to find nothing behind him.

Except for an empty drink bottle that rolled past and came to a stop right behind him.

Perhaps because the home he occupied alone was too dark and cold, the man involuntarily shivered hard. He wasn't even as hungry anymore. All he wanted now was a little warmth and a sense of security.

"Tumao? Where did you go?"

The man stood up and began calling softly for his cat in the living room.

It was a Chinese tabby, a country cat of sorts.

It had been exactly nine years since a distant relative from the countryside had given it to him.

Now he could no longer even remember what that relative looked like, but he still lived alone with this country cat in the cramped rented apartment, working day after day.

Now that disaster had struck, the cat had become his only source of emotional support.

As it happened, it was a cat that didn't like to vocalize, so it wouldn't make noises that attracted the things roaming outside.

Only after several other neighbors who kept cats and dogs had died did he start to appreciate his cat's fondness for peace and quiet and its dislike of making noise.

"Tumao, Tumao?"

The man continued calling as he searched the apartment in his slippers.

Crunch, crunch.

A faint but distinct crunching sound came from what seemed to be the entryway.

Holding a glow stick, the man crept toward the entryway.

A small figure was lying on the shoe cabinet there, holding something and crunching away at it with apparent relish.

"You worried me to death. What are you hiding here and sneaking a bite of?"

The man raised his glow stick and saw that it was eating a cockroach, more than half of whose body had already been eaten.

"You little rascal, how many times have I scolded you for eating cockroaches? It's not like I haven't fed you cat food."

At last, seeing his cat, the man breathed a sigh of relief and opened his arms to give it a hug.

The cat understood him perfectly and crouched down, ready to jump.

It should have been a heartwarming moment.

But at that very moment, as if possessed, he glanced down at the floor.

There was a round black shadow, motionless in place.

A round black shadow... It seemed vaguely familiar. The broadcast just now seemed to have mentioned it.

In an instant, a chill surged up from the soles of his feet, nearly making his head explode.

The Ghost Hand.

A ghost that meant both feet could not leave the ground.

The man's pupils contracted sharply, and he immediately reached out to stop the cat from jumping toward him.

But it was too late.

From the darkness beyond the glow stick's light, a deathly pale, icy-cold dead man's arm had already reached out.

The man grunted, feeling his outstretched hand caught by some strange force, and fell hard to the floor.

At the same time, a chill that seeped into his marrow swept over him and quickly climbed his entire arm.

The cat missed him and landed on the carpet spread in front of the entryway, then began circling him anxiously.

The man forced himself to raise his head and, with difficulty, glanced at his hand. He roughly understood what had happened.

The Ghost Hand's original target had been the cat, but his hand had intercepted it in midair, and it had grabbed him instead, even though he wasn't its target.

Thus, the Ghost Hand hadn't dragged him underground. It had merely kept hold of his hand, leaving the two of them at a stalemate.

So that was it. A blessing amid misfortune.

The man gave a bitter smile and simply lay on the floor to rest for the time being.

The cat circled around him, rubbing its furry head against his face over and over.

For some reason, he felt more and more exhausted, so groggy that he was about to fall asleep.

A few minutes later.

He woke up, roused by a hoarse, harsh meowing.

What on earth was happening?

The man raised his head with effort, only to find the cat standing guard in front of him, its fur bristling all over as it growled repeatedly toward the kitchen nearby.

Listening closely, he could also hear a faint dragging sound coming from the kitchen, as if something were trying to crawl out.

Could it be... another ghost?

Was it the newly announced ghost?

Look at it three times, and touching it means certain death.

The man gazed deeply at the cat, then gently gathered it into his arms with his one remaining arm and covered its eyes.

Soon, the dragging sound in the kitchen stopped.

The man didn't raise his head. He simply kept stroking the cat's head, feeling with his whole body the purring it made in his arms, a sign that it was comfortable and content.

The entire home seemed to have come to a halt, with only the soft purring continuing without pause.

The man gazed down at the clean floor, doing his best to ignore the figure at the kitchen door.

He thought that, by doing this, he could find a glimmer of hope for survival in this despairing world.

But it was clearly futile.

As the seconds ticked by, he seemed unable to help making out a face on the floor, dragging half a body behind it.

A gaunt, sunken face with a dreamy smile, like that of a dead person.

Chapter 25: The Eerie Residential Complex

A feeling of helpless despair welled up in the man's heart, nearly driving him to collapse.

He had seen it after all, seen the vicious ghost he absolutely could not look at.

Even though he had been on guard, in the end he still couldn't do anything. Even staying alive was too much to ask.