Arriving beneath the apartment building, I circled around to the back, where there was a small exit gate. After stepping out, I began to walk slowly toward the distant lights of Specter Hollow. Looking back at the apartment, I saw that Coexistence had already become a ghost—the final round was about to begin.
Staring at the wad of money in my hand, I was already thinking about how to avoid Coexistence and keep him from finding me. I wasn’t all that familiar with the previous six streets; once I entered, I’d need to get to know them better.
John Chou once said that I needed to show everything I’d learned. The beginning is crucial. What I was holding was spirit money, and I waited quietly.
From the black-and-white clock in the sky came a clang, clang, clang—the signal that the game had begun. In my mind, a countdown started. I had only 100 seconds. I broke into a run, feeling a bit out of practice; it had been a long time since I’d moved like a human.
Just as I rushed into the town, I saw plenty of ghosts. They were gathered in small groups, and when they saw me, they only glanced casually. To them, this was all perfectly normal.
Looking around, I heard the countdown in my head reach fifty. I spotted a restaurant, went inside, glanced around, then took out my money and bought a bowl of rice. Without another word, I carried the rice out.
I couldn’t smell a thing. Holding my chopsticks, I slipped into an alley and wolfed down the bowl of ghost rice. As expected, it was hard to swallow. It reminded me of the first time I entered the Ghostrealm, and the food I’d eaten there.
This rice was like dirt—unpalatable, but necessary. After eating it, I felt a chill run through my body. That’s a normal reaction for a human eating ghost food. Shivering, I darted onto Second Street, my stomach churning violently.
Enduring the discomfort, I climbed a wall. From here, I could see First Street at the town’s entrance. The countdown had already ended several seconds ago; Coexistence would be here any moment. But to my surprise, on the main road, Coexistence wasn’t floating—he was strolling slowly.
After entering the town, Coexistence still looked relaxed, wandering the streets. I didn’t get down from the wall, only poked my head out halfway to keep watching, thinking about my next move.
It was nighttime now, which put me at a disadvantage. Just now, to mask my Yang energy as quickly as possible, I ate a bowl of ghost rice. But as the night deepened, even the faintest trace of Yang energy could attract ghosts.
“Hey, you! What are you doing up there?”
I turned my head and looked down—it was a fat ghost, staring at me in confusion. I smiled and climbed down from the wall.
By the way, could you sell me your jacket?
We exchanged money for the jacket. I put it on—it was oversized, so I pulled the collar high, leaving only my nose and eyes visible. I started moving again; I couldn’t stop, because if Coexistence floated by, he’d spot me immediately.
Now I understood why I couldn’t find him that day—he kept moving through the six streets. Whenever I moved, he moved too, so I was always a step behind.
The method Coexistence used before won’t work now. If I’d been more careful and less eager to end things quickly, I wouldn’t have lost.
If my Ghost Aura runs out, I’ll lose again. Now I have a new problem: food. Everything here is made for ghosts, and I can’t eat it, so my strategy this time is to end things quickly.
I moved from one street to another, constantly searching for a hiding spot. Suddenly, I saw a coffin at the end of an alley and immediately ran toward it.
Just as I was about to open the lid, a ghost suddenly floated out of the coffin, looking furious.
“Kid, what are you doing? This is where I sleep, you...”
I pulled out a thick stack of Spirit Notes. The ghost fell silent. I bought his coffin and had him move it behind a shop on Third Street.
This was a lucky find—the coffin was heavy with Yin energy. Lying inside, I could completely mask my Yang energy. But this was only one part of my overall plan.
I kept calculating, running through the night streets, using my money to buy anything from the ghosts that could help me hide—baskets, trash cans, tables, chairs. I had them move these things to spots I chose.
This was the bare minimum preparation. Four hours had passed; I was cold, hungry, and in poor shape. In the freezing wind, I kept walking—even if it broke my legs, I couldn’t stop.
This was a contest of endurance. Whoever stopped first would lose. I’d won like this many times before—when I thought I couldn’t go on, I just kept moving forward.
I’d found more than thirty places and things I could use to hide. I kept searching for more. I kept swapping clothes with various ghosts. By dawn, my body was warming up again.
When the sun rises, the ghosts go back to rest. That’s bad for them. The decisive moment should be at sunset. I’d already set off plenty of smokescreens—everything I’d prepared was meant to confuse Coexistence’s senses.
Finally, the sun came up. The streets were empty—not a single ghost in sight. I was exhausted, my eyelids twitching. I nearly fell asleep sitting on the ground. I washed up with some fresh water, then kept walking the streets.
Every time I passed a hiding spot, I left behind some hair or a bit of blood.
All these things carried traces of Yang energy. My mouth was dry, my stomach in knots, and time was running out. Coexistence still hadn’t started searching for me.
I knew he was waiting—for the moment I couldn’t hold out any longer, that’s when he’d come for me. All my hiding places were less than thirty meters apart.
Everything was in my mind—I kept thinking it through. In the end, I was determined to win this game.
For my final preparations, I gathered a bunch of cups and started collecting water and sand, placing them at each hiding spot.
Night fell, the sun set, and the ghosts began to stir. I was on Third Street, on the eastern edge of town, hiding in that coffin. Three cups—one with water facing west, one with sand facing north, and an empty cup facing south. I lay in the coffin, facing east.
“Spirit Way to the west, Mortal Way to the east; when ghosts cross, southwest is the intersection...”
I began to chant silently, my mind filled with images of Rachel Lan—she’d taught me this spell. It was simple but effective. After much consideration, I realized only this spell could help me survive.
I was almost at my limit. I didn’t know how Coexistence planned to find me, but I knew one thing for sure—if I just kept going, I could win.
Suddenly, a ghost floated past me, but didn’t seem to notice me. It sensed something strange and, with a bang, crashed into the wall.
“Found you, Ethan Zhang. You lost the game.”
Suddenly, I heard Coexistence’s voice echo in my mind. I smiled, staying perfectly still, and kept chanting under my breath.
“Not planning to come out yet?”
Then, with a bang, it sounded like a table had been knocked over. I smiled—I wasn’t there. The hiding spot built with tables wasn’t far from me, and Coexistence had guessed my hiding place.
“Now you can’t run away, can you?”
With a crash, the lid of the Black Shroud Coffin was thrown open. It was Coexistence, but his eyes were filled with surprise—he couldn’t see me. The spell was working. For a ghost of his level, finding me was nearly impossible.
Time passed, minute by minute. For the third time, Coexistence came to my spot, still searching the coffin, still unable to see me. I kept chanting the incantation.
My lips were cracked, my throat felt like it was on fire, but I kept enduring. Time was almost up—nearly midnight.
“Ethan Zhang, I’ll find you and eat you… eat you…”
Coexistence grew anxious, searching for me angrily, sometimes flying right over my head. The hiding spots I’d set up had successfully confused his senses.
My consciousness was almost collapsing. My body was screaming, heavier and heavier, my vision blurring. I kept chanting mechanically. Coexistence didn’t give up; he kept searching. He’d never admit defeat until the very last second.
One minute left until midnight. My body was numb, my eyes wide, chanting as I watched the second hand tick by. Each second felt slow—agonizingly long.
With a thud, something hit the ground. Then Coexistence’s head popped into the coffin, laughing as he looked at me.
“Found you, Ethan Zhang.”
The clock chimed—midnight. I smiled.
“You lost, Coexistence. I’m not really here.”