"Officer, is this really appropriate?" The dormitory matron watched Hugh Thompson, who was unlocking the door.
"Ma'am, think about it. So many students have gone missing for no reason, and the school administration is still trying to cover it up. We police officers have no choice but to take these measures. I hope you'll cooperate with our investigation in the future."
With a click, Hugh Thompson opened the locked cabinet. Inside were some clothes and snacks, nothing of importance.
"Looks like there's nothing left to find on Lily Qian."
Hugh Thompson spoke as he opened the students' cabinets one after another, all in vain. We found nothing, even after searching the entire room.
"Where are the dorms of the other missing students?"
The matron shook her head.
"On the girls' side, except for this room—where four students went missing—the other dorms have already been reassigned, and the families have come to collect all the students' belongings."
Suddenly, Hugh Thompson stood up, looking furious.
"Didn't we, the police, make it clear? This is a disappearance scene and still under investigation. What is this?"
"Well, the vice principal said the police have already investigated, so..."
With a bang, Hugh Thompson slammed his fist onto the bed frame.
"Hugh, hurry up. It's already past five. The students will be out of class soon," reminded a member of the Ghost Burial Squad.
Hugh Thompson fell into deep thought, looking troubled.
If we miss this chance to investigate, it’ll be almost impossible to find anything later.
"There's a way," Hugh Thompson said, smiling faintly.
Afterward, we collected all the items in the dorm that could produce a stench. At 5:40, the dean and the same teacher came by, looked around, and, satisfied, handed us the payment.
I made up another excuse, telling them it was a problem with the drainage pipes, which left them completely dumbfounded.
Afterward, Hugh Thompson said it was getting late and suggested we eat at the school cafeteria before leaving. We got permission.
"We still have about an hour. Let's hurry and eat first."
We packed up our cleaning supplies and parked the car in an empty lot by the basketball court. Then we headed to the dormitory beside it. It was just six o'clock, and students were getting out of class. Luckily, the cafeteria was empty. We got our food and walked to the edge of the basketball court, watching the students rush into the cafeteria like wild beasts.
Suddenly, the place was filled with noise. Hugh Thompson quickly finished his meal and fixed his gaze on the students.
"It's that kid."
Hugh Thompson pointed to a cocky, long-haired student in the crowd, wearing his school uniform carelessly.
"Target acquired. Let's go." After finishing our meal, we kept an eye on that student and watched as he and a few others slipped into the grove in small groups.
Once inside, they found a secluded spot and started smoking.
Hugh Thompson smiled and walked over.
"Remember me?" Instantly, the student seemed to recognize Hugh Thompson, glanced at his friends, and ordered them to leave.
"Officer, why is it you again? I've told you everything I know."
"I need you to do something for me. Steal the student rosters for Class 17, Class 19, and Class 23 in the first year."
"Huh?" The student stared at Hugh Thompson in disbelief.
"You get sent to the office often enough for discipline. Snagging a couple of class rosters shouldn't be a problem, right?"
The student flicked away his cigarette and held out his hand.
"This time, the risk is higher. At least three thousand."
"You're raising the price, huh? Fine, I'll give you fifteen hundred up front. But no matter how you do it, you must get it done. Otherwise..." Hugh Thompson glared at the student, and the kid, who had looked relaxed, shrank back a few steps in fear.
"I'll tell your teachers and the principal about your cooperation with the police. You don't want to get expelled, do you?"
"Damn you..." the student cursed, then nodded.
"Got it." He reached out his hand.
Hugh Thompson took out a stack of cash and handed it to him. After the student left, I blinked and looked at Hugh Thompson.
"That's intimidation and bribery. Aren't you a cop?"
Hugh Thompson smiled.
"Kids these days, unless you grab them by their weak spot, asking for help is a joke. If anything goes wrong, Old Stone will get his pay docked, and I won't fare much better."
We left the school smoothly, with no sign that anything had gone wrong.
Later, I learned Hugh Thompson and the teachers had asked for the student rosters to investigate, but the teachers refused, citing privacy. Helpless, they only told us which students were close to the missing ones. When questioned, those students claimed to know nothing and wouldn't budge. We considered using our authority to search, but the warrant was delayed.
"Once you get the roster, what's the plan?"
"The roster should have home addresses and contact info. That's all we can do. Your teacher should know which classmates his daughter was close to."
I responded with a simple "Oh."
"We'll investigate the others slowly. Once we find a breakthrough, things will get easier."
Around eight, we returned to University Town. The two Ghost Burial Squad members left, and Hugh Thompson drove me to see the elderly couple from the Underworld.
I repeatedly reminded Hugh Thompson, and he promised not to mention anything.
When we arrived at Fortune Teller Street, Hugh Thompson found a place to park. We walked to the blind granny's shop. Upon entering, Hugh Thompson was surprised.
"First time seeing such a powerful formation."
"Kid, you brought a stranger again, huh?" The old man looked at me, annoyed.
"Elders, I’m from the Ghost Burial Squad. I'm Hugh Thompson. This time, I hope you can help us." Hugh Thompson said politely, and the old man's agitation eased.
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After Hugh Thompson explained the situation, I took out the red string.
"Qingyuan, normally, proper spirit summoning is best left to the Maoshan Sect or the Ghost Mound people. The ghosts they summon are useful. Maoshan uses offerings and ritual money to ask for help, while the Ghost Mound enslaves them."
The blind granny spoke, her hands constantly feeling the red string.
"This string must have been soaked in some kind of blood, but we’re not sure what kind. Old man, you explain to them."
The old man then took out a piece of white cloth covered in writing and a small dish.
"Spirit Dish?" I asked.
"This is the most common method of summoning spirits. It's been passed down for ages. Look, this white cloth is the guide, and this dish is the cause and effect. These are essential for any spirit-summoning ritual—every method uses them."
The old man instructed me and Hugh Thompson to place our hands on the dish together.
"Alright, you two, just focus on calling the Spirit Dish."
We closed our eyes, silently chanting for the Spirit Dish to come, and started moving the dish with our fingers.
"What is your name, and how did you die?"
The dish moved on its own across the word-covered cloth: Zhao Ming, died in a car accident.
"Alright, Qingyuan, ask any question you want."
I responded, thought for a moment, and asked.
"Where are my biological parents?" Suddenly, the dish spun wildly across the cloth, like a headless fly.
"We all have some spiritual power, so the Spirit Dish comes quickly. But this one seems weak, so it can't sense your situation. Ask two more questions, then send it back."
The three of us looked at each other, unsure what to ask next.
"Just ask anything. Spirit Dish, what did Zhang Qingyuan eat for breakfast?"
The old man asked, and the dish pointed to 'noodles.' I smiled in surprise—it was accurate.
"Spirit Dish, what color underwear is Zhang Qingyuan wearing today?" Hugh Thompson asked with a grin. I glared at him, and the dish pointed to 'red.' I stared at the dish, embarrassed.
"Red is good. Wards off evil spirits. Hahaha..." The old man laughed heartily.
Just then, the dish began to tremble violently.
"Oh, looks like this one's upset!"
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. I turned around and screamed—a ghost, covered in blood, with a chunk missing from its forehead.
Instantly, I clenched my fist, murderous energy spilling out, and swung at it. The old man grabbed my fist, and the ghost, startled, retreated.
"Alright, alright, my apologies for any disrespect. Please forgive me."
My heart was still pounding. Meanwhile, Hugh Thompson and the old man seemed to hit it off immediately, exchanging glances and laughs as they looked at me.
I shot them a resentful look.
"It’s your fault for asking those teasing questions. That’s what made it angry."
"Well, Qingyuan, you’re doing better now. When you see a ghost, you throw a punch. Used to be, you’d just run away, right?"
I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. It’s true—now, if I see a ghost, I’d definitely throw a punch first.
"This is the guide and the cause. In the Maoshan Sect, summoning spirits always involves offerings or exchanging your own yang energy as the guide. The tools, incantations, and process that follow are the cause and effect."
The blind granny spoke, and I nodded.
"This red string looks like a guide. You need to find the cause and effect to know what kind of spirit-summoning method it is. Also, depending on the method, the power of the summoned spirit varies."
The old man explained.
"Qingyuan, this case is huge. Whatever those kids summoned could be very dangerous. High-level vengeful ghosts are powerful, though not as much as the one in your family. Still, he won’t intervene this time. If he appears, someone from the Underworld will be watching."
I gasped, looking at the blind granny.