Our current situation is like trying to stop a mischievous child from causing trouble—you can't hit them, and they don't listen when you talk. Especially since the participants are people, driven by high ratings and the show's profits, they won't listen to us. The celebrities want to show off as much as possible on these programs to boost their own popularity.
"Do you know? The show's current ratings have brought in more than two billion in industry benefits. It's a massive figure, and the people backing it are big businessmen, even connected to politicians."
Hugh Thompson said this, and the four of us sighed heavily.
"Dalton Fang, go keep watch by the pond. Someone went over again. You too, Justin Huang."
Under Hugh Thompson's orders, the two of them went over reluctantly. It was already 4 p.m., and the production crew was getting ready to set up again.
"You two listen up—if you mess around, you won't get a single cent of this month's bonus. Got it?"
Hugh Thompson barked harshly, and the two nodded blankly. This time, there was nothing they could do.
Afterward, I explained the situation to Hugh Thompson. He fell into deep thought, pulled out his notebook, and wrote for a long while.
"Ethan, go call Easton Grant over."
I responded and ran over. Some of the crew were already planning to eat at a small restaurant in the village. Easton Grant was there too, so I called out to him.
After coming over to Hugh Thompson, Easton Grant shook hands with him first.
"We hope you can keep an eye on the suspect. After tonight's show, do you have a way to get into that woman's room? I heard you used to be quite the ladies' man—shouldn't be a problem for you, right?"
Easton Grant gave a stiff smile and nodded. I looked at Hugh Thompson helplessly.
After Easton Grant left, Hugh Thompson called me and Miles Mao to the car.
"If things get worse, Miles Mao, be ready to summon a ghost tonight and give them a real scare. If they still refuse to leave tomorrow, that's our only option."
I laughed. Right, that's another way to handle it.
"Great idea, Hugh! I'll summon a ghost later and really scare them, let them know what they're up against." Miles Mao said, grinning.
"But we have to wait until Easton Grant gets some information first."
Hugh Thompson said, and after dinner, we waited quietly. The sky was completely dark by now, past nine o'clock. Despite what happened last night, the crew seemed energetic—no one felt sad about Leah King's disappearance except her manager. It was obvious Leah King wasn't very popular in the industry.
In fact, privately, quite a few people secretly laughed about her disappearance, thinking she got what she deserved.
During dinner, Hugh Thompson asked Justin Huang and the others if anything had happened. After eating, they went back to keep watch at Deadwood Pond.
The three of us waited outside the inn. Tonight, Easton Grant and Jenny Rou didn't have to participate in the recording. We waited quietly while Hugh Thompson smoked.
"Sometimes, ghosts are easier to deal with than people. As humans, we have to follow the law when dealing with those blinded by greed—we can't just do whatever we want. Everyone's been exhausted lately. Old Stone hasn't slept much for days."
A scream rang out. We rushed over, then heard someone cursing.
"Who do you think you are? Trying to rob the cradle? I'm not falling for that. You're just a washed-up singer. Get lost."
After a while, we heard Jenny Rou go upstairs. We ran to the front entrance of the inn. Easton Grant was standing there alone, looking annoyed. When he saw us, he sighed.
"Looks like my old tricks for dealing with young women don't work anymore." Easton Grant said.
Seeing his frustrated face, we couldn't help but laugh.
"The production crew is all gathered over there. Go upstairs and tell her that James Zhang, the person in charge, has something urgent to discuss."
"Huh? Will she believe that?"
"I did a little digging. Jenny Rou and James Zhang have an improper relationship."
I looked at Hugh Thompson in surprise. He adjusted his glasses and spoke.
"I don't want to use this trick on a woman, but we have no choice, right?"
Once again, I felt that Hugh Thompson was capable of anything.
Sure enough, after Easton Grant called Jenny Rou, she went out excitedly, and we hurried upstairs. Easton Grant followed too.
We reached a room on the second floor. There was no one inside, and the door was locked. We called the innkeeper for the key, opened the door, and told him we were investigating a murder case so he wouldn't spread the word.
Inside the room, the bedding was tossed around, with clothes and underwear scattered on top. Hugh Thompson immediately started searching. Miles Mao and I searched as well.
"Didn't expect her to wear these kinds of panties." Miles Mao said, spinning a pair of pink patterned thongs in his hand, grinning mischievously.
"What are you doing, Miles Mao? Do you have any police professionalism? If you want to play, go buy your own at home."
Hugh Thompson shouted harshly. Miles Mao immediately dropped the pink underwear and hurried to help with the search.
I shot Miles Mao a look of disdain. We searched the whole room and found nothing suspicious, but I could sense a faint, chilling presence lingering inside.
Then Hugh Thompson dug into his pocket and pulled out a photo. Miles Mao and I stared in shock—it was a clear picture of Jenny Rou and James Zhang holding hands on the street. Hugh Thompson took out a pen and wrote on the photo: 'Come to the back of the inn at 1 a.m. tonight.'
"How did you get this?" I asked.
"I have a friend who's a professional paparazzo. Before, James Zhang bought the negatives with cash, but my friend kept this one just in case." Hugh Thompson explained.
(Skip this website navigation prompt as it's irrelevant.)
We quickly left Jenny Rou's room and waited quietly behind the inn. After 1 a.m., we heard footsteps—Jenny Rou came over, her face full of anger.
"Officers, what exactly do you want from me?" Jenny Rou demanded, her voice sharp.
"Tell us the truth. It was you, wasn't it? You made Leah King disappear. If you don't talk, I'll make this photo public. You know what that means, right? Aren't you about to start filming a TV series? James Zhang's wife is the station director—she could blacklist you in an instant." Hugh Thompson threatened.
I blinked, noticing Hugh Thompson's wicked smile, and nudged Miles Mao beside me.
"He looks like a villain," I whispered.
Miles Mao nodded.
"I don't know," Jenny Rou said angrily, but suddenly Hugh Thompson grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. Jenny Rou burst into tears from fear.
"You'd better tell us what happened. If you don't confess, I'll arrest you right now for murder." Hugh Thompson demanded.
"You guys..." I couldn't take it anymore. I hurried over and pulled Hugh Thompson away.
"Listen carefully. If you tell us now who made you do it, we'll let the past go. But if we find out on our own, your future is finished—get ready for prison." Hugh Thompson warned.
"I... I can tell you, but you have to protect me..." Jenny Rou said, trembling.
Suddenly, I felt a wave of sinister energy from the left. I swung my fist, igniting flames, and punched toward Jenny Rou's left side. A shadow flashed out—a ghost, pure white all over. The flames I created were instantly devoured.
"Delicious," the ghost said.
Hugh Thompson instantly threw Jenny Rou toward Miles Mao. With a crack, ice flowers burst from the wall, exploding outward.
Hugh Thompson clutched his hand, blood streaming down. I looked over—it was a white ghost, clearly powerful. My punch had no effect; it even devoured my flame.
"Ghost Burial Squad, you'd better stay out of this. It's none of your business. Trust me, it's for your own good." the ghost warned.
"Are you with the Ghost Syndicate?" Hugh Thompson shouted.
"Hmph, remember—don't meddle, or we'll show no mercy. And you, Ethan Zhang, with Yin Choujian gone, let's see what tricks you have left. Hahaha..." the ghost threatened.
In a flash, I drew the Phoenix Blade, rage boiling inside me, and charged forward. Flames erupted as I swung the Phoenix Blade at the ghost.
"Return, Ice Spike!" Instantly, the ghost exploded into shards of ice with a cold voice. I felt something shoot out of the flames, and a burning heat spread through my body.
My flames didn't melt the ice fragments. The shards struck me again and again.
"Are you okay, Ethan?" Hugh Thompson came over. I pulled the ice shards out of my body, shook my head, and saw a deep cut on the back of Hugh Thompson's right hand—bone exposed. He acted as if nothing was wrong.
"I'm fine, Hugh. Hurry up and treat your wound." I said.
Jenny Rou had already fainted. We carried her into the room, and Miles Mao kept pinching her philtrum, but she wouldn't wake up. In the bathroom, I grabbed the medical kit and treated Hugh Thompson's wound.
Hugh Thompson took off his shirt, revealing he'd lost a lot of blood. I realized his body was covered with scars—old and new, overlapping. I stared in surprise.
"What are you staring at, Ethan? I'm not like you. You get used to it. I'm lucky to still be alive." Hugh Thompson said.
I carefully applied medicine to Hugh Thompson's wounds. If he hadn't reacted in time, Jenny Rou would be dead by now.