"Of course you wouldn't know. That kid used Return Reflection to steal the Warden's Armor."
I swallowed, an icy dread rising in my chest. Suddenly, Lord Tai Shan swept his hand through the air, and I felt my consciousness slipping away, darkness closing in from all sides.
In a daze, I opened my eyes. A cold moon hung in the sky, the wind howling ceaselessly. I stood at the top of the apartment building, behind me the ghost market glittered with transparent lights, and in front of me was the place where the living dwelled.
"What exactly is it?"
Then it hit me—this was a memory from my Instinct Space.
"Seriously? John Chou, are you sure? Is Old Tom really trying to kill you?"
A voice echoed from the small pavilion—it was John Chou. I drifted downward and saw two figures: one was John Chou himself, the other was his instinct for slaughter. Beside them, a half-white, half-black humanoid grinned—a manifestation of my own instinct for coexistence.
"So it seems," came the reply, the words hanging with a chilling finality.
John Chou muttered, while Slaughter crossed his arms, looking at John Chou with disbelief.
"Have you decided yet? Ethan Zhang is about to wake up."
Coexistence muttered something, John Chou grunted, but Slaughter immediately grabbed him.
"Wait a minute. Don't do anything so reckless. Since you know, you should start thinking of a countermeasure early."
"I did consider countermeasures before, but now there's a better way, isn't there?"
Slaughter glared at John Chou with disgust. Then, Coexistence began to float upward, extending a spectral hand into the wind. The air trembled with an unnatural chill as my eight ghost souls materialized, swirling around the pavilion, their presence thickening the shadows and making the world seem to shudder.
"John Chou, the Warden's Armor isn't so easy to obtain. It could very well kill Ethan Zhang."
Spirit Snake gazed at John Chou, anxiety etched across his ghostly features. Old Tom watched in silence, his presence radiating a quiet, menacing energy.
"Don't worry. I have my own way."
Suddenly, a streak of crimson light split the sky. A suit of chainmail floated upward, pulsing with supernatural energy. All eyes turned, the oppressive silence broken only by the ghostly glow and Old Tom's shadow looming at the edge.
"Wait."
Curse Ghost abruptly intervened, her gaze fixed on the floating chainmail. As she crouched, one hand pressed ominously to the ground, the air grew thick with an unnatural chill, and shadows seemed to coil around her.