"The Cosmic Bagua Formation!" Hugh Thompson shouted.
The six members of the Ghost Burial Squad quickly pulled out several red ropes, linking themselves together. A dazzling red light burst forth, forming a hexagon. Instantly, the immense power with which Ironmask struggled weakened.
Deathbane Aura frantically gathered in my hand. In my mind, I pictured the Celestial Chord Sword; as my will moved, the aura condensed and began to take the shape of a sword.
"Ethan Zhang, don't hesitate—just finish him off!"
Hugh Thompson shouted, and everyone else was giving it their all to suppress Ironmask.
"Condense—Celestial Chord Sword!"
I gripped the Celestial Chord Sword with one hand. Instantly, the entire Ghost Burial Squad retreated. I swung my sword at Ironmask’s neck.
"Ethan Zhang... I hate you..."
In Ironmask’s eyes, I saw a profound hatred. With a swift slash, my Deathbane Aura sword severed his head, sending it flying high into the air.
"It's not over yet—get ready."
As Hugh Thompson shouted, the seven members of the Ghost Burial Squad pressed their palms together and began silently chanting.
"Heavenly Net—vast and boundless, Five Ghosts’ Veil, a force of a thousand pounds, press..." Suddenly, I saw one member of the Ghost Burial Squad pull out a large piece of yellow cloth. With a swift motion, he spread it out, and as it touched Ironmask’s severed head, a sizzling sound rang out.
"Earthly Web—unyielding as a wall, Six Spirits contained, energy covers the land, gather..."
As Hugh Thompson spoke, he quickly pulled out a brush and cinnabar, drawing symbols in the air before flipping over and writing dense talismans on the ground.
"Seal and bind, the Great Dao knows no bounds, Ghost-Suppressing Rite..."
In an instant, Ironmask’s corpse and head were wrapped in the yellow cloth. The Ghost Burial Squad members each grabbed the red ropes at the cloth’s edge and, with a swift motion, tightened the cloth, immobilizing Ironmask.
"We did it," someone said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Leaving the building, all the members of the Ghost Burial Squad cheered, their faces full of relief. But at that moment, I couldn’t feel happy.
"Is it really over?" I recalled that dream—the final outcome was my own death, Vivian Ouyang’s body torn apart. The Blind Hag once said that entering a dream reveals the future.
Afterward, Ironmask was carried out, wrapped in the yellow cloth, and the other Ghost Burial Squad members placed additional seals on him.
Seeing that they were about to load Ironmask into the car and take him away, I walked over to stop them.
"Let’s wait for the Nether Syndicate to come and take a look first."
"Brother Ethan, let’s take him back first. Here—this is your cooperation fee for today." Detective Stone said, handing me two brown paper bags, one for me and one for Rachel Lan.
I saw Rachel Lan accept hers, and I didn’t ask any questions as I took mine. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Afterward, the Ghost Burial Squad drove off, and the cleanup crew arrived to clear the scene.
Once I was back in the car, I remembered the paper bag.
"What’s inside?"
"Money!" Rachel Lan replied.
I let out a surprised sound and quickly opened the bag. Inside was a thick stack of bills—three thousand yuan, I counted.
"Is this really appropriate?"
"Just take it. Anyone who helps the Ghost Burial Squad is never left unpaid."
Rachel Lan spoke, but her face darkened. Vivian Ouyang was still missing, and none of the Ghost Burial Squad knew where she’d gone. The only clue was that their Thirteenth Division’s car had been found at eight o’clock, in a parking lot in the southern part of town. Vivian’s whereabouts remained a mystery.
"Ethan, can you come with me to take a look?" Rachel Lan suddenly asked. I nodded.
It was nearly three o’clock and we were both hungry, so we drove to a roadside stall that was still open to get something to eat.
Rachel Lan looked pale, clearly worried about Vivian Ouyang.
"I met Vivian during my sophomore year. That was the first time I learned about the Ghost Burial Squad. Back then, Vivian was just an intern."
I made a sound of acknowledgment and nodded.
"Maybe it was fate. Vivian and I argued the first time we met, but somehow, we became close friends."
"It’s okay, we’ll find her. It’s not like she..." I stopped, remembering Yuna Ji’s warning—not to get involved, no matter what happened to Vivian Ouyang. She wouldn’t die.
After we ate, I volunteered to drive. I’d rested at noon and wasn’t too tired. Rachel Lan closed her eyes as I drove toward the South Fourth Street parking lot.
I understood why Rachel Lan wanted to go—she needed to see the car for herself. Even if it led nowhere, any clue would help.
At four o’clock, we arrived at the entrance to the South Fourth Street parking lot, paid the fee, and drove in. The security guard at the gate gave us a mysterious smile.
Rachel Lan blushed and turned away. I didn’t know why, so I found a spot and parked the car.
We got out. Fortunately, the parking lot was well-lit. We found Vivian Ouyang’s car, and Rachel Lan took out the keys.
"You have the car keys?"
"I just got them from Detective Stone—a spare set."
We opened the car. Inside was a half-finished cup of cola and some snacks—nothing else. We searched thoroughly but found no clues.
Just then, Rachel Lan took out a small Spirit Tracker Dog. I blinked in surprise.
"I’m not sure if this will work. There’s a bit of Vivian’s aura in here. If she’s nearby, it should help."
Rachel Lan placed the Spirit Tracker Dog on the driver’s seat, dripped a bit of her own blood onto it, pressed her palms together, and extended two fingers.
"Spirit Tracker Dog, seek and find—arise!"
I watched as the little Spirit Tracker Dog suddenly stood up, barked twice, and wagged its tail. It was about the size of a fist, tongue lolling out, and I couldn't help but exclaim.
"So cute."
(Irrelevant system message. Skip translation.)
Rachel Lan smiled at me.
Then the little Spirit Tracker Dog began sniffing around, then barked at me. I blinked.
"It’s not looking for me. Try again."
After sniffing for a while, the Spirit Tracker Dog jumped out of the car and ran off. Rachel Lan tensed up and quickly chased after it.
We both chased the Spirit Tracker Dog, exiting through the parking lot’s back door, arriving at South Third Street, then crossing two more streets to South First Street—a residential area with several apartment buildings. At the intersection, the dog lingered.
"Rachel..." As we anxiously waited, a soft voice called from the east side of the street.
I turned to see Vivian Ouyang, dressed in white sportswear, looking at us expressionlessly.
"Vivian, where have you been?" Rachel Lan called out, running over happily. But something felt off—Vivian’s gaze was filled with malice.
"Wait!" I grabbed Rachel Lan’s arm. Suddenly, the ground in front of her caved in, as if pressed down by some unknown force.
"Who are you really?" I demanded harshly.
"Rachel, listen to me. From now on, don’t look for me. We can’t go back to the way things were." Vivian said, her voice tinged with sorrow. She turned and walked away.
"Vivian..." Rachel Lan called after her, releasing a Spirit Shroud and stepping onto it to chase her. I hurried after them, but as I stepped onto the Spirit Shroud, it vanished beneath me—Rachel had already taken it.
I cried out, grabbing the edge of the cracked pavement. Rachel Lan was so anxious, she didn’t even notice me.
I felt myself falling. The stone I gripped loosened and I dropped, but just then, a rough, calloused hand grabbed me.
"Climb up, kid."
I struggled, grasped the hand, and pulled myself up.
"Thanks." I managed to say before pinching my nose—a wave of stench hit me. It was the beggar I’d spent a thousand yuan on, buying him clothes, but now he was filthy and reeking.
"Are you Rachel Lan’s father?"
I asked quickly; the man nodded, then shook his head.
"I was, but not anymore."
"Lan... Uncle Moe, um..."
"Just call me Old Moe, kid. If it’s awkward, you could call me father-in-law."
I let out an awkward sound, embarrassed as I looked at Old Moe.
"Just kidding." The scruffy, dirty middle-aged man burst out laughing.
I gave him a resentful look.
"Hurry up, Old Moe. You must know something—let’s go after Miss Lan."
Old Moe grabbed me and shook his head.
"Right now, we can’t meet as father and daughter. Ethan, I need you to keep this secret—don’t tell Rachel you saw me, or what I’m about to ask you to do."
I made a sound of acknowledgment.
"Ever since you entered the dream, the future’s become twisted. That thing came out early."
I made a puzzled sound, looking at Old Moe for answers.
"Ethan, that girl Vivian Ouyang isn’t what she seems."
"But she..."
"I mean the one inside her."
I nodded. It was true—Vivian was strange. Mr. White and Mr. Black said she died at birth, and Yuna Ji said she couldn’t die.
"I need you to stop Rachel from searching for Vivian."
I made a sound of acknowledgment.
"Old Moe, you know your daughter’s stubborn. Will she even listen to me?"
"Hey, kid, want me to teach you the best way to handle women?"
I made a noise of uncertainty. Suddenly, Old Moe put his arm around my neck and kissed me. I broke out in a cold sweat and quickly pushed him away.
"What... what are you doing?" I stared at Old Moe in horror.
"If she doesn’t listen, use this trick—it never fails." I glared at Old Moe. He really was Rachel Lan’s father, but his jokes were awful.