Time: midnight, exactly twelve o'clock. I sat in my room, my mind consumed by the dream I had during my nap this afternoon.
Just moments ago, Rachel Lan called to ask the Ghost Burial Squad about it. The dead really were members of the Ghost Syndicate.
"Ethan, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I replied, breathing heavily. Just thinking of those chilling eyes made my whole body uneasy.
But on closer thought, those eyes seemed familiar. And that iron-faced man—when he gouged out the Syndicate member's eyeball and tried to hand it to me to eat, there was something in his gaze: a plea, a hint of kindness.
He looked insane. Then he opened his mouth wide and swallowed the whole heart.
Suddenly, a white blur flashed by. The iron-faced man stretched out his hand. Deathbane Aura surged out and wrapped around the white figure.
I looked at Rachel Lan and nodded.
The iron-faced man pressed the ghost's head down. With a crackling sound, he twisted the Pale Ghost into a small lump, almost like kneading dough. Then he opened his mouth wide and swallowed the ghost whole.
By eleven, we reached the demolition zone. All around us were high-rises under construction and vast wasteland dotted with old houses. The word 'demolish' was painted on the walls in bold strokes.
I looked around and immediately spotted the house—it was cordoned off with police tape. Even at midday, a crowd had gathered. Members of the Ghost Burial Squad stood outside in small groups, smoking and talking among themselves.
Suddenly, I saw that the corpse on the ground had been gnawed on. Judging by the clothes, it was a Taoist priest.
Step by step, I retreated.
"Aren't you going to eat? Come on, it's really tasty."
Suddenly, I raised my hand, Deathbane Aura surging out. I punched the iron-faced man in front of me, but my fist passed right through his body, as if he didn't exist—I hit nothing but air.
In an instant, the iron-faced man grabbed my hand. He could touch me, but I couldn't touch him.
"Hurry and eat. If you do, you'll have the strength to run. Please, just eat it." For a moment, sorrow flickered in the iron-faced man's eyes. His voice was hollow, but strangely familiar.
I shook my head. He didn't seem hostile toward me.
"Who... who are you really?"
"Who am I..." the iron-faced man muttered, suddenly clutching his head. He dropped the heart to the ground and howled in pain.
"Who am I? Who am I, who am I..."
Suddenly, he stood up again, grabbed my head, and stared at me.
"Tell me—who am I? You should know. Who am I?"
I cried out, feeling like my wrist was about to be crushed.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." The iron-faced man squatted on the ground, wailing, then lay down and stuck out his tongue, licking the blood on the floor. The sight made my skin crawl.
"Once you're full, you'll have the strength to run. Then you can escape."
I sensed something was wrong. Suddenly, the woman's face turned bluish. Her bright red tongue lolled out, and chunks of skin began to slough off her face.
I looked closely—it was a Pale Ghost, terrified.
The voice was familiar. I looked up, blinking—it was my cousin, Zhang Hao. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. Just like before, his bald head was gone.
I screamed in shock. The iron-faced man turned to look at me, his eyes full of sorrow.
"Save me, Ethan Zhang... Save me... I am..."
Suddenly, behind the iron-faced man, a huge, twisted space appeared. A bright green chain shot out, wrapped around his neck, and dragged him inside.
"Save me, save me..." Just as I stepped forward, the iron-faced man was dragged inside, looking helplessly at me. His outstretched hand vanished too.
I woke from the dream, cold sweat pouring down. My breathing was rapid as I looked around—the sky outside was still gloomy. I checked the time: a little after 6 a.m.
After washing up, I started boiling noodles, planning to call Rachel Lan once they were ready.
Knock, knock, knock—the sound of someone at the door. I looked over in surprise. It was Rachel Lan. If it were one of those ghosts, they definitely wouldn't knock.
I walked over and opened the door.
"Ethan, something happened again. Last night, a Taoist priest was killed while performing a ritual at the commercial district building. His body was gnawed on, and his heart was ripped out."
As we ate noodles, I told Rachel Lan about my dream from last night, bit by bit. She immediately took out her phone.
"Vivian, let's meet at my place in a bit."
After breakfast, we drove the Ghost Burial Squad's van. By nine o'clock, we arrived at Rachel Lan's place. Downstairs, Vivian Ouyang was already waiting.
"Rachel, long time no see. I missed you so much." Vivian Ouyang rushed over and hugged Rachel Lan, rubbing her forehead against Rachel's chest.
"Ethan Zhang, you aren't hiding anything from me, are you?"
Vivian Ouyang shot me a sidelong glance.
I let out a surprised sound, mouth agape, not understanding what she meant. I watched as she kept feeling around Rachel Lan, leaving me utterly baffled.
"Men, sometimes, are no different from beasts. Rachel, I'll have to check you later."
In an instant, Rachel Lan's cheeks turned red.
"Vivian, be serious. Stop messing around."
Then the three of us got in the car, planning to check out the old house on Southplain Road first.
By eleven, we reached the demolition zone, surrounded by high-rises under construction and vast wastelands dotted with old houses. The word 'demolish' was scrawled on the walls.
I looked around and spotted the house right away—it was cordoned off. Even at midday, a crowd had gathered. Members of the Ghost Burial Squad stood outside in small groups, smoking and talking.
We walked over.
"Vivian Ouyang, why do you never learn? Every time something happens, you run straight to Rachel Lan?"
It was Lincoln Lin, the sharp-tongued man with black-rimmed glasses.
"What's the situation?"
"We just dealt with the body and finished the scene investigation. The bite marks are human, not ghostly. But the Taoist priests here said there's no trace of a ghost. You know what that means, Vivian Ouyang."
Vivian Ouyang nodded and said,
"It's true, it doesn't seem like a ghost's doing. But the victim was a member of the Ghost Syndicate, which doesn't make sense."
"Did you ever consider that maybe the Syndicate's own ghost turned on its master?"
Lincoln Lin shook his head.
"There are three broken urns inside—full of ashes. But the Taoist priests checked; the ghosts are already gone."
Thinking back to last night—the iron-faced man in my dream not only ate people, but also devoured a ghost right in front of me.
"Can we go in and take a look?"
"Suit yourself." Lincoln Lin didn't stop us, so we crossed the cordon and went in.
Sure enough, everything in the house was exactly as I'd seen in my dream—like I'd really experienced it.
"I'm telling you, it's best to head home early today. We'll wrap this up quickly and leave."
Lincoln Lin followed us in and reminded us.
Vivian Ouyang nodded.
"Rachel, you should head home early tonight too." Rachel Lan nodded as well, while I watched in confusion.
"Kid, you don't know, do you? Today's a ghost day. Didn't you check the almanac before going out? Especially for people who can see ghosts—it's best not to wander around. If you run into a powerful one, you could lose your life in an instant."
I checked—the date was September 19th.
"Ethan, it's really best not to go out tonight. Head home early."
I responded with a simple 'okay.'
Afterward, we went to the scene of the murder in the building. Sure enough, it was exactly as I'd seen.
After dinner, I dropped Vivian Ouyang and Rachel Lan off at their homes, then drove the Ghost Burial Squad's van back toward my apartment. Oddly, those three were nowhere to be seen.
Later, Vivian Ouyang told me that Dalton Fang had gone to a major temple out of province to find his master, Miles Mao planned to visit Mount Mason, and as for Mason Yu, no one knew where he'd gone. Vivian said he vanished without a word—wouldn't answer calls, or hung up right away.
Oddly, it was just before ten o'clock, and the streets were nearly deserted. I drove toward my place.
When I reached downtown, I stopped, thinking I'd take a look at Central Park. On a whim, I parked at the entrance. The park lights were on and there were still people around, so I didn't think much of it.
Though Lincoln Lin had warned me to head home early,
I entered the park, followed the path to the fountain, and sat quietly. This was the place where Lily Wu and I often went on dates. As I looked around, a feeling of melancholy crept in.
"Mister, all alone?" Suddenly, a woman spoke. I looked up. She wore heavy makeup, red high heels, black stockings, and had long, seductive legs.
I let out a surprised sound and smiled. The woman sat down next to me.
A sudden gust of wind blew a flyer into my face. I looked at it and was instantly dumbfounded.
The flyer announced that at 7 p.m. tonight, Easton Grant—the mysteriously missing singer—would hold a concert in the north of the city. I was completely stunned. No wonder there were so few people out today. Back in the day, his concerts drew massive crowds.
"Mister, talk with me, won't you? I'm all alone and so lonely." The woman spoke softly, sitting closer and grabbing my hand—her touch was icy cold.
I sensed something was wrong. Suddenly, the woman's face turned blue, her bright red tongue lolled out, and patches of skin began to fall from her face.
"Amitabha, mercy, mercy." Suddenly, a burst of golden light flashed, and a string of prayer beads flew over. The female ghost shrieked and vanished.
The voice was familiar. I looked up, blinking—it was my cousin, Zhang Hao. My eyes widened. Just like before, his bald head was gone.
"Cousin, why is it you?"
"Ah, Ethan." My cousin walked over in a daze.
"Hey, I was planning to check out Central Park. I heard there's a stunningly beautiful woman who appears here at night, but I didn't expect to run into you instead."
"Cousin, aren't you a monk at Putian Temple?"
"Ah, it's a long story, little cousin. There are so many ghosts at the foot of the mountain now. A few of my senior brothers and I came down, but I found a chance to sneak away. Haha, come on, little cousin, let's go grab a drink."