I dialed Rachel Lan's number, but she was already on a call. I didn't think much of it—who knows why she's upset. I hailed a cab directly and headed to Beixin Road.
At 1:30, the car stopped on Beixin Road. It's a street lined with shops, and there weren't many people around—noon is always quiet. After walking over, I started asking about the photo studios here. I was told there are two studios, so I followed the street and began searching.
I walked to the end, but only saw two ordinary photo studios. There was nothing like what Cheng Xue described—a small, two-story building with cracked walls and a black cloth curtain hanging at the entrance.
Feeling puzzled, I searched up and down the street. Then I found a drink shop, sat down, ordered something, and asked around. But the owner said he'd never seen any old photo studio.
"Was I tricked?"
I muttered to myself, but then thought about it—Cheng Xue didn't seem like the type to lie. She spoke without any hint of deception. After finishing my drink, I went back out, planning to keep searching.
I searched for two hours, even releasing the Specter Web to check the alleyways, but still couldn't find any old photo studio.
I thought for a moment—if I can't find it during the day, I'll wait until night. With nothing else to do, I looked around and found a bookstore, planning to kill some time and have dinner. When night falls, I'll keep searching.
When I reached the bookstore entrance, I stopped. I couldn't remember the last time I'd read a book. Just then, my phone rang—it was Hugh Thompson calling. I answered immediately.
"Ethan, there's new progress. How are things on your end?"
I told Hugh Thompson everything I'd gathered, except for what the student Cheng Xue had told me about the photo studio she ran into on this street. But I hadn't found anything.
"Ethan, with Old Eccentric's help, we got some crucial information from that guy. His soul is pieced together—made up of many people's souls, men and women both."
I was shocked and quickly asked for more details.
"Hugh, what exactly is going on?"
"It's complicated, Ethan. You'd better come back soon. If nothing happens tonight, be careful out there."
I hung up and looked at the busy street, thinking carefully about what Cheng Xue had told me. She'd found the old photo studio by accident while shopping with her boyfriend one evening, a little over a month ago.
After wandering the street for another two or three hours, the sun was almost setting. I stood at the intersection, planning to keep searching for that old photo studio.
I walked slowly along the pedestrian street, keeping an eye on everything around me. Suddenly, I stopped—something seemed to be in the alley across the street, facing me. I could feel it, so I immediately released the Specter Web to check. Just then, a blinding light flashed at me. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, and saw a two-story old building deep in the alley.
Without thinking, I rushed over and nearly got hit by a car. I quickly entered the alley. Sure enough, there was an old photo studio right in front of me.
The red sign was faded, and the white characters for "photo studio" were incomplete. A black cloth curtain hung at the entrance, and the walls were cracked in many places. The white paint was almost completely gone.
To the right of the photo studio stood a withered tree. The breeze stirred its dry, yellow leaves. Step by step, I approached the studio.
My Specter Web could feel a chill—a ghostly cold. Now I felt it clearly. Step by step, I drew closer to the studio, Deathbane Aura constantly leaking from my body. I clenched my fists, eyes blazing with anger.
I was now standing in front of the black curtain. The old, two-story studio gave me a deeply uncomfortable feeling. I didn't sense any strong ghostly power—everything here seemed like a collection of faint, gloomy energy. To me now, it posed no threat at all.
Just as I was about to reach out and push the curtain aside, it suddenly slid open on its own.
I looked inside. It was a small space. The left wall was covered with photos. There was a long bench and a small table. On the right, a counter held some scattered photos and an old-looking camera.
The wallpaper was patterned, with dark red and purple designs. Directly ahead was a passageway, dimly lit by a yellow oil lamp on the wall. The whole studio felt gloomy. Without thinking, I stepped inside.
Once inside, it was very dark, with only the faint glow of that yellow oil lamp. But I could see everything clearly—even the dust on the floor. I turned to look at the photos on the left wall. Many were old black-and-white shots, well taken, and the people in them looked full of life.
Near the entrance, there were a few color photos. Then, to my surprise, I saw Roger Lee's photo and Boss Chang's photo among them. I reached out and touched the photos—there was nothing unusual about them.
"Heh heh..."
Just then, a sinister laugh echoed from the end of the hallway.
"Come out."
I shouted. Instantly, Deathbane Aura surged from my hand, rolling down the hallway. But just then, I felt my connection to the aura snap. As soon as my Deathbane Aura entered the passage, it vanished.
I clenched my fists, ready to rush in, but stopped myself. I had no idea where I was—I couldn't afford to be reckless. Still, my anger made me want to tear this whole studio apart. Just thinking about Roger Lee and Boss Chang made my rage boil over.
"Who are you? Show yourself."
I shouted again. Just then, I sensed something strange behind me. I turned around and lifted the black curtain. What I saw was odd—the layout behind the curtain was exactly the same as what I saw before me, like looking into a mirror. But there was something off—it was identical, yet not reversed.
The photos and some of the writing weren't reversed—they were normal.
"Is this a Shadow Realm?"
I muttered. Given the situation, I was probably inside a Blue Wraith's Shadow Realm. Without thinking, I shouted and formed a Deathbane Aura Blade in my hand, then swung it hard at the left wall.
But the same thing happened as before—my Deathbane Aura vanished. When my blade hit the wall, it was like striking empty air; it disappeared completely. I quickly dispersed the remaining hilt, reached out to touch the wall, then knocked on it. It was solid.
"Who are you? If you've got the guts, come out."
I shouted, then walked toward the counter. The number of photos there seemed off. When I first came in, I remembered only a few, but now, strangely, there were more.
I flipped through the photos and was stunned. Two photos: one showed black Deathbane Aura in the hallway, the other showed my Deathbane Aura Blade striking the wall. The rest were all blank. I glanced at the old camera on the table, picked it up, and felt as if something was watching me through the lens. I smashed the camera to the ground. With a bang, it shattered to pieces.
Angrily, I stomped on the camera, grinding it to bits before I stopped. I'd heard that in battles with Blue Wraiths, their Shadow Realms were crucial—each Blue Wraith's realm was different. I couldn't afford to be careless.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the number of photos at the counter had increased again. The old camera I'd just smashed was now perfectly intact on the counter. I picked up the new photos—there was a pile of them.
They showed everything from me smashing the camera to stomping on it. I had no idea how the other side managed this, but I took a deep breath and shouted.
"Enough with these cheap tricks. If you want to fight, come out, you bastard!"
I glared around and shouted, but then a voice came from the hallway.
"What, Ethan Zhang? Cheap tricks? Why don't you go take a look in the mirror, you little punk! My moves are top-notch. You think you can control everything—even me?"
"Who are you? Come out! Why did you hurt Roger Lee?"
"Because I'm a ghost! Ghosts harm people—what's wrong with that? It's only natural! Hahahaha..."
Wild laughter echoed from the hallway. I couldn't hold back any longer and charged toward the corridor. Just then, I heard the click of a camera shutter—someone had pressed it.
On the right was a room, its door locked. Directly ahead was the back of the studio, and beside the door, a staircase led up. I stood quietly, then kicked the door to the right.