In the distance, under the cold, dark moonlight, the village lay silent. Isabelle Frost and I were hidden in the woods, quietly watching the looming conflict about to erupt.
From the western woods, flashes of light burst forth, and the village began to stir. Every movement was identical, precise to the last detail.
I was stunned, silently watching the distant western forest.
"Only four people."
Isabelle Frost looked shocked. I started to sense it too—David Wu was missing. The four members of Ghost Burial Squad Team 2, Calvin Wang, Quentin Yuan, Cynthia Mu, and Lori Luo, were all present, but David Wu alone was absent.
Marty Tysoe, as always, shouted for the villagers to surrender, steadily closing in. The only ones who might know David Wu's whereabouts were those four.
The attack had already begun. There was no more noise; the four Ghost Burial Squad members did not rescue the villagers as they had before. Suddenly, I saw a black shadow—it was the ghost controlled by Quentin Yuan. As it moved in, it began a brutal slaughter.
With the bandits' screams echoing, they died one after another, each killed in a cruel and merciless way.
"Stop it, Quentin."
Calvin Wang looked grim as he pulled the laughing, deranged Quentin Yuan back. In these seven years here, the ghost Quentin had released was even more resentful and powerful than any I had seen before.
"What's the point? Tomorrow, everything will just start over again, won't it?"
With a loud smack, Calvin Wang slapped Quentin Yuan, then grabbed him by the collar.
"As long as we're alive, there's hope. That goes for you two as well—don't act so lifeless all the time. If we stick together, we can definitely..."
"We can't get out. We... we can never get out again."
Lori Luo's voice was icy cold, devoid of any emotion. She kept muttering to herself, her smile now completely gone.
Cynthia Mu remained the same as always, but the calm on her face now showed a trace of worry, her brows tightly knit.
The villagers had no idea what had happened, but all the bandits were dead—every last one of them.
"Hey, let go, old man..."
Quentin Yuan said coldly. Calvin Wang released him. Head bowed, the four of them stared blankly, lost in confusion at everything happening here.
I slowly stood up. At that moment, Isabelle Frost grabbed my arm.
"Wait a little longer."
I nodded and continued to observe the four.
"Hey, old man, why don't you just kill me? Go ahead, try it. Maybe death would be easier."
Without a word, Quentin Yuan pulled out a small knife and handed it to Calvin Wang. His face twisted with a savage look—they were all at their limit.
"Eight years, old man. Eight whole years. What's the point of living like this? Tell me, tell me!"
Quentin Yuan roared, while Calvin Wang looked sullen, choosing silence and saying nothing.
Suddenly, that black ghost appeared, grabbing Calvin Wang's arm with a crunch. Calvin cried out in pain.
"Let me set you free, old man."
Quentin Yuan sneered coldly. Suddenly, Cynthia Mu sprang into action, sending out Spirit Charms with loud bangs.
"Heh, interesting, very interesting. Why don't you all come at me together? Kill me, just kill me..."
Calvin Wang clutched his broken arm, drenched in cold sweat. He stared at Quentin Yuan, still silent.
"Hahaha, what's wrong? What's wrong with you all, those dead faces—aren't we just corpses here? Nothing matters in this place. We can't do anything, can't solve anything. Why do we keep existing in this meaningless world...?"
Quentin Yuan had gone completely mad. Grinning viciously, he commanded his ghost to attack the other three. Cynthia Mu kept resisting, refusing to give up for even a moment.
"We're all the same. It's not just you."
Cynthia Mu shouted, suddenly pulling out a sheet of drawing paper. With swift strokes of her pen, I saw a golden dragon appear on the page.
"Dragon Painter..."
With a thunderous roar, the golden dragon manifested, growing larger and larger—seven or eight meters long—and lunged at the evil ghost.
The Golden Dragon and the evil ghost immediately grappled, each refusing to yield, tearing and fighting fiercely.
"Cynthia Mu, you can't beat me. Your heart is nearly broken, isn't it? Your power source is collapsing, shattered, isn't it? Hahahahaha..."
Quentin Yuan kept laughing. Suddenly, the glowing Golden Dragon tore the evil ghost apart, swallowing it bit by bit. Cynthia Mu coughed up blood with a splatter.
"Haha, just like when I killed David Wu back then. He was freed, but what about me? This guy won't kill me, doesn't see me as an enemy. He's been released, but I'm still suffering. We can't be freed yet."
With a whoosh, I drifted above Quentin Yuan's head and reached out, grabbing the evil ghost he commanded. My hand gripped the ghost's neck tightly.
A cracking sound echoed as the evil ghost was frozen into a block of black ice by the surge of Yin energy I released. With a thud, it fell to the ground. I slowly dusted off my hands.
"You've all worked hard these years, in the world I've created..."
Suddenly, I felt a powerful force beneath my feet. It was Quentin Yuan, raising a hand that had turned black and calloused, like a ghost's hand, clawing toward me.
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Suddenly, the Spirit Snake appeared. With a flick, a fierce serpent bit Quentin Yuan's neck and wrapped tightly around him. With a crack, Quentin screamed as the Spirit Snake broke his hand. The conjured ghost hand vanished with a wisp of black energy.
A suffocating murderous intent pressed in on me, but the other three did not move—they just stared at me.
"Don't make a move, or in an instant, I'll kill every last one of you."
Cold, ghostly winds drifted around them. My Seven Ghost Souls appeared, one after another.
"Who are you, really?"
Calvin Wang clutched his right hand, looking extremely uncomfortable. I smiled coldly.
"Blackfang." That's what you can call us.
As I spoke, I spread my arms, one hand forming a sword grip. With a swish, Belle appeared in my hand from my back. I swung the sword toward the village behind me, and suddenly, streaks of fierce energy crisscrossed the village.
The villagers who had been cheering for victory instantly fell into a living hell. I laughed wildly, watching them.
"Very nice—how do you like your expressions now? Is it fun here?"
Quentin Yuan screamed.
"Kill you, kill you..."
With a whoosh, I raised my hand. Quentin Yuan slowly drifted toward me. I grabbed his hair, sneering coldly.
So weak—how could you kill me?
As I spoke, a cracking sound rang out. The serpent coiled around Quentin Yuan broke all his arms and legs. He screamed, glaring at me in fury, while the ghost sealed by Yin energy struggled violently.
If you want to kill me, you'll have to become stronger.
Quentin Yuan lost consciousness. I let go, and he fell to the ground. Just then, with a gurgle, water bubbled up from the ground—Lori Luo caught Quentin Yuan precisely.
"Is everything here your doing?"
"You could say that. If you want to leave, defeat me. There's no other way. Live or die—it's up to you."
As I spoke, I floated away. I already knew the cause of David Wu's death—when I touched Quentin Yuan. These people have been here for eight years, a full eight years.
David Wu died a year ago. Puzzled, I went to the southern woods, where Xuehan Yi had already set up her octagonal tower, waiting quietly inside.
After returning upstairs, a green ghost vein pierced into my body. She saw what had happened.
When we first arrived, just like I saw in Cynthia Mu's memory, all five people were cheerful—not discouraged at all—and kept searching for solutions.
But as humans, they all had their limits. After a year, the predicament began. The five kept searching for solutions, trying everything to break through.
Eventually, the five of them focused on the dry well. Every day, they quickly dealt with the bandits attacking the village, then tried all sorts of methods by the well.
Until one day, two years later, David Wu brought some villagers' blood and dripped it into the well, discovering something strange—the flow of time sped up.
At first, David Wu reported his discovery, but people's perception of time was the same. Only machines that recorded time could show the difference.
Through repeated trials, David Wu found that time really did speed up—especially when a lot of villagers' blood was poured into the well. This phenomenon was even more pronounced.
One hour—only twenty-three hours in a day, and then time would reverse. This was the biggest change after dripping blood into the well.