Walking along the busy street, I felt a sudden, inexplicable ache in my heart.
People do change—constantly, unpredictably, easily. Like food past its expiration date, they turn foul and rotten. Even things as solid as stone can decay.
I've interacted with the Ghost Burial Squad more than anyone else. From the moment I first met them, confused and hostile, until now, I've realized this weak department shouldn't even exist.
Fear of death is human nature. Though they enjoy high salaries, their work is always shadowed by death. Many have developed psychological issues.
Later, Ethan Zhang and Rachel Lan connected with the Ghost Burial Squad after several events. Watching Ethan's path, their ties with the Squad deepened. The weak Squad began relying on Ethan to solve their problems.
Ethan Zhang was trustworthy, and so were the people in the Ghost Burial Squad. Above all, Stanley Stone—the Squad's core—was the most reliable. He was down-to-earth, never putting on airs, and treated his subordinates well.
Most importantly, he took on the burden himself. All those deaths—impossible to accept—were shouldered by Stanley Stone. I've seen him bow his head, again and again, apologizing to grieving families.
Compared to someone as scheming as Hugh Thompson, I trust Stanley Stone more. Ethan Zhang feels the same. But the truth I see now is the best answer.
Everything has changed. Hugh Thompson said he's now acting chief of the Ghost Burial Squad, but everyone's salary has been suspended for a long time. The Squad members who returned are still working because of old bonds. Their funding comes from Hugh Thompson working for Redmond. Maybe they're waiting to return to the Squad. I don't know what the Squad means to them, but thanks to Stanley Stone, they're still keeping order in the city at night.
Their efforts may seem insignificant, but they're still trying. Hugh Thompson once tried logging into the department network, only to find his account deleted—same for everyone else. The Ghost Burial Squad headquarters is nearly destroyed, just ruins now. Most records about ghosts and cases have turned to dust, with only a few saved. Hugh Thompson moved these files to Redmane Entertainment Company's headquarters for temporary storage.
Right now, my heart feels desolate. Weak as an ant, yet slowly gathering strength. Ethan Zhang still worries about the Ghost Burial Squad, refusing to give up hope for their survival. But tonight, Stanley Stone told me the entire Squad is dead.
Yet I find my own feelings strange. What am I really worried about? Shouldn't all this have nothing to do with me? Ethan Zhang is the one who should care, not me.
Do you think I went too far?
I stopped and asked. Agent Seven and Ma Yongjie stared at me in surprise, not expecting me to speak up while feeling so low.
It was just right, not too much. You have to be like this with those people. If you don't make them understand, being gentle or tough is useless—it only brings more trouble.
I nodded. Agent Seven smiled, and we kept walking, planning to stroll for a while before heading back.
I drifted back into thought. That organization, rooted in the heart of society, controlling money and power—what is it really? Ethan Zhang has dealt with them before. The Immortality Society tried to buy Ethan Zhang with money, but they didn't actually have the means.
No matter what goes wrong, the truth is always quickly covered up. Last time, the Immortality Society captured everyone from the Ghost Burial Squad. The city suffered, witnesses saw it happen, but soon it was called an accident, and those witnesses fell silent. Things settled down quickly.
This organization is so powerful, they quietly place Immortality Society members in key positions.
But the key is Entity 001. She doesn't seem to remember her own past—I suspect her memory was altered. Only the Thought Ghost and the Celestial Hound could do that: one can change consciousness, the other can eat and implant memories. Both are tied to the Immortality Society, and now both are under Ethan Zhang's control.
Suddenly, I stopped and turned to look at Ma Yongjie.
Could I trouble you to run an errand?
Go ahead.
Go find Black Moon. He should be at Redmond's place. Just tell him I need to see him urgently.
Ma Yongjie nodded.
I'll do my best. That guy is unpredictable—he might not come.
I smiled faintly and shook my head.
Just tell him—their Boss owes me, and I'm here to collect interest.
Ma Yongjie dashed across the road at a speed almost invisible to the eye, vanishing into the night. A wave of dark energy spilled from my body, and a pair of huge wings spread from my back as I slowly floated upward, reaching out a hand.
Agent Seven squinted and shook his head with a smile.