"There you are, you little brat."
A gorgeous female ghost draped in a sheer red veil, a blind old ghost leaning on a cane, and a hanged ghost with thick lips, his tongue dangling, face pale as paper, and huge eyes fixed on me.
"You three..." Father Mason had just started to speak when, with a loud cry, the Lady in Red slapped him, sending him flying. He tumbled across the ground several times before finally coming to a stop.
"Lantern, lantern, where's my lantern? Give me back my lantern."
Suddenly, it hit me—these three ghosts were the ones I rescued from the City of the Wronged Dead after descending to the underworld with John Chou, and later encountered on Mount Shade. They’ve come for me?
I stared at the three Blue Wraiths, confused, then remembered what Evan Zhao had told me a few days back—there were three fierce Blue Wraiths haunting these parts. It was them.
"You made us hunt all over for you, huh? Heh. You little punk, you actually dared to hit me in the face." The Lady in Red sneered, gripping my chin with one hand.
"Heh, kid, you modern types really have no respect for your elders. You booted me so hard I went flying—old man like me nearly broke in half." The Blind Sage rapped his cane on my head.
"Lantern, where’s my lantern? Give it back."
The Hanged Man thrust out his tongue, coiling it around my neck.
"You three, do you think I don't exist? Move aside." The Night Wanderer shouted, suddenly flying over. Instantly, the three turned their heads and yelled in unison.
"Get lost."
Green light erupted from the three, stunning the Night Wanderer. Then he smiled.
"Alright, alright, kid. Looks like you've made plenty of enemies. These three are tough—you're in for it soon."
The Night Wanderer laughed loudly and strode away. I felt my strength fading. My vision went black, and I passed out.
My whole body was weak. I slept deeply, not knowing how long. Suddenly, my right hand cramped. I jerked awake, screaming. The thick-lipped, large-eyed Hanged Man hovered above me, staring with his bulging eyes.
"Lantern, lantern, heh heh..." The Hanged Man giggled foolishly. I felt something strange and glanced to my right. My hand was perfectly reattached. I flexed my fingers and pinched my own lips, stunned.
Suddenly, I was snatched up by the Hanged Man’s wet, slippery tongue, twisted into place. A smoky scent hit me—there was a faint crackle. The Blind Sage was smoking his pipe nearby, the smell acrid and unpleasant. I coughed, then caught a whiff of strong perfume.
I realized I was inside Father Mason’s house. The Lady in Red sat atop the table, a large mirror in front of her and a mess of cosmetics spread out as she fussed with them.
"Stop with the makeup, you brat. Aren't you worried about real business? Look at that ghost face of yours—no matter how you paint it, it's still the same." The Blind Sage barked. The Lady in Red turned her head.