My heart was pounding with urgency, and I sped up. Suddenly, The Dragon cursed, his ghost aura nearly spilling out as he grabbed my shoulder and shook his head, holding me back.
"Why rush, Ethan Zhang? With me here, there's nothing to fear. I lost the target myself this time—can't show my face back there. I'll help you, drag Howard Zhang back myself. That brat dared to trick me, slipping away right under my nose."
I considered it for a moment and realized he was right. The ghost aura around us was wild and chaotic, threatening to spill out at any moment. I slowed my flight, doing my best to suppress and rein in the ghost aura.
We could only sneak in, just like the first time we entered the Ghostrealm. Howard Zhang must be looking for Brother Owen—the Ghostworm Monk. I remembered his territory was just to the left of Lord Wraith’s domain, far past Circle City.
"Are you familiar with the Ghostrealm?"
I asked. The Dragon patted his head, smiled, and shook his head.
"I haven't been there much. Back then, we followed the boss and were enemies of the Underworld Court. Every trip down meant a fight."
I sighed, seeing The Dragon’s confident look. I was speechless. Gradually, we descended from the sky into a secluded park, overgrown with weeds. Surrounding us were buildings—some ancient, some modern—forming a small ghost town.
Deep inside the park, waves of aroma drifted out. The Dragon sniffed the air, his nose twitching. Ahead, a large gate bore the sign for the management office. We followed the Blue Wraith, who greeted the enforcers stationed at the entrance.
"Roast chicken, stinky tofu, and hotpot—haven't tasted these in ages. Let's eat before we move on."
I let out a surprised sound. Soon, we entered a bustling ghost market, filled with ghost merchants selling all kinds of goods. The Dragon walked to a stall boiling beef hotpot and sat down.
"Boss, ten bowls—make them big."
"Coming right up," the ghost vendor replied with a smile.
The ghost vendor immediately dipped his ladle into the pot, pulled out a stack of bowls, and within minutes, bowls of beef hotpot were served—fresh and steaming.
The Dragon slurped down nine bowls, while I only managed one. The taste was excellent. He patted his belly, satisfied.
"Come on, let's get a drink." The Blue Wraith walked ahead, then turned to glance at us.
I let out another surprised sound and checked my pockets—no money. We stared at each other; The Dragon was broke too.
"No money anyway. Let's just eat and run—get ready to bolt."
The Dragon barked this out. I glared at him, pulled out my phone, and texted Howard Zhang about what had happened.
"Ethan Zhang, if you lost someone, make sure you tell Howard Zhang—don’t let the boss know, or I’m dead when we get back."