The Ghost-Human Festival—no one knows when it began, but in Exile Town, this annual celebration came to be known by that name.
Originally, this place was a penal colony for criminals. Many who committed heinous crimes were exiled here, left to fend for themselves. They lost hope in life and grew numb to death.
In this land of desolation, only the walking dead remained. Here, life and death had lost all meaning.
It wasn’t until the Four Ghost Kings arrived, fleeing the bloody storms of the ghostly realm, that Exile Town found new vitality. Humans and ghosts began to coexist peacefully. Later, to commemorate their survival—whether human or ghost—they started holding the festival each year.
As time passed, the Ghost-Human Festival began to change. Humans and ghosts, with no hope for the future, gradually affected the entire Shadow Realm. Eventually, the realm developed its own consciousness, and from then on, the rules changed. It was then that sacrifices became necessary.
Tap, tap. The old ghost puffed on his dry tobacco, recounting this story with resignation. The other three Ghost Kings sat nearby, silently grieving.
“Well, it’s not like I did it on purpose. You don’t have to be so upset.”
“It’s all because of you, Yuna Ji. Your aura influenced the Shadow Realm. That thing has absorbed a lot of ghost energy from you, and now it’s grown into such a powerful monster. Sigh...”
“Miss Ji, that creature’s appetite keeps growing. These thirty-seven people—that’s the number of sacrifices required this year, after slowly increasing over the years.”
I’m still nailed to the wooden board—no one can touch me.
The festival begins at 3 p.m., lasting three days and three nights. Already, the entire town is bustling—humans and ghosts alike hang lanterns and decorate for tonight’s grand celebration.
Rows of tables stretch across the streets, forming a continuous line. Pots bubble, plates of meat and vegetables are set out.
Everyone is preparing for the festival. On the streets, both humans and ghosts don new clothes. Just then, a large group approaches several tables, led by Easton Grant.
With a loud bang, Easton Grant kicks over a table.
"Hey, what are you doing?" A ghost, busy with preparations, looks at Easton Grant.
"What kind of bullshit festival is this? I’ve had enough."
Chaos erupts in an instant.
"What’s going on?" The old ghost stands up, but Samantha Simons raises her hand to stop him.
"Let’s wait and see."
I remember—here, humans and ghosts aren’t supposed to fight on their own. But now, suddenly, they’re brawling. I see people swinging fists at the ghosts.