With a crunch, I stared blankly as Jerry Li gnawed on a human hand. Instantly, that strange aroma hit me head-on, its scent growing even stronger. Black-red juices dripped from Jerry Li’s mouth.
I widened my eyes as the peculiar fragrance seeped continuously into my nostrils. An unprecedented feeling surged within me—a craving. This emotion should have been erased from my heart long ago, yet I could still feel it.
My head buzzed as more and more emotions began to well up from deep inside me. A warmth spread across my cheek, and I stared in shock as Jerry Li’s hand brushed across my left cheek.
A crystal-clear tear appeared before my eyes.
“Is it mine?”
I asked nervously. Jerry Li nodded.
“Most Soul Mourners refuse to eat human flesh even in death, but there are exceptions. Some can cross the boundary of being a ghost and fully possess a ghostly body, replacing the vessel that once carried emotions—the flesh. Others have bodies that weren’t destroyed, but are stored in special places, so they don’t suffer Soul Mourning Syndrome. And another way is to keep eating humans, using consumed flesh to make up for the lost body.”
“So which kind are you?”
I muttered, and Jerry Li shook his head.
“Not the kind you’re thinking of. I only started eating humans after becoming a Blue Wraith. By then I already had a ghost body, so there was no need to worry about lacking a physical form to bear sorrow. It was just a hobby. All this meat comes from people who just died and are about to be cremated—their bodies are useless, so they become food. It’s the same as you eating animal meat, just a different way to survive.”
Jerry Li turned around, still holding the tray, and walked into the crowd of noisy female ghosts, playing around with them, looking genuinely happy.
“Looks like you’ll never do something like that, Ethan Zhang.”
I hummed in response and nodded. The whole night, I watched them make a ruckus. Faced with the strange aroma of human flesh, I felt emotions welling up inside me, as if drinking sweet dew.
Fireworks shot up into the sky, and all the ghosts in the house started to party. Gentle music played, followed by a pure and ethereal singing voice. I was stunned. On a temporary stage built over the pool, a female ghost in a red dress held a microphone and sang heavenly notes, accompanied by guitar and piano on either side.
I rubbed my eyes. I wasn’t mistaken—I knew this woman. Her singing was famous for its sweetness, a voice that could melt anyone, clear and delightful. She was a renowned singer who had passed away, my father’s favorite when I was a child, and the orphanage director also played her songs. I couldn’t be more familiar with her.
Gradually, the sounds of joy faded. The ghosts gathered around the pool, soaking in the music. The song seemed endless, as if from another world, intoxicating everyone in its beauty—a moment of music that might never come again in their lifetimes. I was also entranced, sitting off to the side, listening.
Those pure, untainted things tugged at my heartstrings, resonating with sweet echoes. I sat on the bench, thoroughly enjoying it.
When the song ended, the singer bowed and then slowly floated away, like a departing fairy. I waved to her; she smiled sweetly and soon vanished into a black passage in the courtyard.
Suddenly, I snapped out of it. With a whoosh, I flew toward the shrinking black space, reaching out to grab it, but it disappeared. Nothing was left before my eyes, as if it had all been a spring dream.
“Don’t bother. That’s a special passage for the service staff here. King Hollowbelly created it. You can’t get in unless you’re just a low-level Grayshade Wraith or Whitecoat Wraith.”
I let out a sound and looked at Jerry Li. His eyes glistened with tears, seemingly moved by that emotional performance.
“Strictly speaking, ghosts above the level of Whitecoat Wraith and Grayshade Wraith are like mud, while that passage is like a sponge. Grayshade Wraiths and Whitecoat Wraiths are like water—water passes easily through a sponge, but mud, stone, or metal cannot. Even if you melt stone or metal, their heat will eventually burn the sponge.”
Jerry Li explained it clearly and simply. I smiled and nodded, deciding not to think about these things anymore tonight.
I picked up a glass of wine from the table and drank. Immediately, I felt something at my temples. The wine, which had tasted like water before, now seemed exceptionally delicious. I gulped it down, my head growing fuzzy and dizzier, until I eventually lost consciousness with the help of some female ghosts.
In a daze, I woke up again, still on the bench by the pool. The banquet was over. I tilted my head and looked at the sky, surprised to see stars. Perhaps they were fake, but in this situation, seeing the stars was a pleasure—though I couldn’t truly savor it.
“You’ll never eat human flesh, not even in death, Ethan Zhang.”
Jerry Li sat beside me, his face flushed, a wet towel pressed against his cheek. I couldn’t smell anything anymore; the fleeting, transcendent feeling was gone, and my emotions had vanished again.
I let out a sound and stood up. The staff were already cleaning up.
“Who are you, really? You know everything about this place, and you understand ghosts so well.”
Jerry Li just smiled, said nothing, and walked into the house.
I sat alone by the empty pool. For a moment, I even wanted to eat some human flesh, but I gave up. My mind drifted to Easton Grant, and what he once said in a media interview—about someone who had taught him about conviction.
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I gave a bitter smile and went upstairs. On the second floor, I turned on the TV. There wasn’t much to do anyway, and I needed to learn about what had happened over the years.
After searching for a while, I found a news report from this month.
Two hundred seventy-three people missing or presumed dead after participating in a large-scale horror game. Police have launched a comprehensive search, but so far there are no results. Is it really a supernatural event? Or were they caught in a time tunnel?
The news was extremely strange. I clicked on it, but found nothing inside. I quickly turned on my computer and searched, but still came up empty-handed.
I kept looking for it on TV, but the news wasn’t there anymore—only the headlines remained.
Bored, I found nothing of value in the news. Daylight had already arrived. Except for the lack of sun, the sky was bright and clear.
Jerry Li came downstairs, looking content, and sat beside me. Soon, a ghost staff member brought breakfast.
I switched the TV to the morning news. Suddenly, Redmond appeared, with reporters holding microphones beside him. Redmond looked serious as he stared at the screen.
“Chairman Mao, it’s reported that there was a kidnapping last night. The victim is an important director from Redmane Entertainment Company, and the ransom is set at one hundred billion.”
My heart skipped a beat. Then Redmond grabbed a microphone and coughed a couple of times.
“The police are already investigating. As for the one hundred billion ransom—ha, I wouldn’t pay a cent, let alone a hundred billion. Besides, that guy still owes me a few billion!”
Redmond said this and left, while a crowd of reporters swarmed after him.
“Chairman Mao, it’s rumored that the kidnapped director is a key figure in Redmane Group. Isn’t your approach likely to infuriate the kidnappers and risk the hostage’s life?”
“Ask the police about the details. They’re handling it.”
The reporters turned their questions to those present, firing off inquiries. The police could only respond with 'no comment,' but judging by their expressions, they seemed completely clueless.
“Looks like the person you trust won’t pay to ransom you.”
Jerry Li said this, grinning at the screen, then stood up.
“That guy’s just a bandit leader at best. You’re not part of their camp, so why would he save you? Right?”
I grew even more puzzled as I watched Jerry Li. He seemed very familiar with Redmond, but he still refused to talk about himself.
Suddenly, I felt a powerful surge of ghostly energy heading our way—it was King Hollowbelly. I hurried downstairs. With a boom, King Hollowbelly landed in front of me, his layers of fat jiggling, looking furious.
“Didn’t you say he’d pay to ransom you? Not only did he refuse, he even detained the three Underworld Magistrates I sent, and now he’s demanding money from me!”
“Don’t get worked up, King Hollowbelly. Things have their order. I think Lord Malice just wanted to use the TV to tell Ethan Zhang something—something only he and Ethan Zhang understand.”
I stared at Jerry Li in shock, while King Hollowbelly’s expression softened.
“Ethan Zhang...”
“Don’t worry, the money will come through, and your Underworld Magistrates will return. But to make the deal work, we need to negotiate properly. After all, you’re holding a lot of people here. If you take the money and double-cross us? Limbo and Styx Gate are so close, and the friends in Hall of Malice couldn’t possibly come to save me.”
“Alright, we businessmen value honesty above all.”
I nodded, and King Hollowbelly looked at me with trust.
“Wait a few days and I’ll let you know how the deal will go. It depends on what Redmond wants.”