Mysterious Awakening

Chapter 96: The Balance is Shattered



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In the dimly lit room, the group gathered around a body bag. The task had seemed straightforward, but its simplicity raised suspicion and doubt among them. This very doubt reinforced the unease that Miles had been feeling for some time.

As he stared at the seemingly lifeless form in the bag, Miles grew more certain of his previous suspicions. However, he realized he had been misguided. The mix of a deceptive sign and his existing skepticism had caused him to make an impulsive and mistaken move.

“Did we actually succeed in capturing it?” Stretch broke the silence, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Yiming replied with a contemplative expression, “It’s hard to say. Based on the tests Page conducted earlier, this old woman isn’t ordinary. But labeling her as a malevolent ghost might be too simplistic. A ghost that managed to take down two ghost tamers shouldn’t have been caught so effortlessly.”

Miles, ever the pragmatist, shared his insights. “It’s a ghost slave,” he declared gravely. “It’s a being manipulated by a malevolent spirit after the death of a person. It isn’t truly human, nor is it an actual ghost. We’re chasing shadows here.” He then suggested after looking ahead, “We should head back to the prior shrine. That’s where we’ll find our answers.”

Stretch’s voice echoed the frustration of the group. “So, are you suggesting we went to all this trouble just to catch a mere diversion?”

Miles didn’t waste time on further explanations. He simply grabbed the body bag and made for the exit. “Follow me if you want to stay alive,” he called back. “If things pan out, we can resume our original mission.”

Without missing a beat, he strode with determination toward the shrine. Yiming quickly proclaimed, “We stick together,” and he and Stretch hurried after him.

Yet as they emerged outside, they found no sign of Page. Stretch’s voice rang out in the growing darkness, “Page? Where are you?”

Not breaking stride, Miles retorted, “There’s no need to call out. If he was still among the living, he’d be with us.”

Yiming and Stretch exchanged a stunned glance. They had only been apart for a short distance; how could anything have happened to Page in such a brief span? Moreover, he wasn’t on his own, was he?

But as they followed Miles toward the old shrine, the surrounding atmosphere took a palpable shift. The daylight above them dimmed at an unnaturally rapid pace, plunging the village into an eerie twilight.

To Miles, it felt as if the day had abruptly transitioned into night, and a bone-deep chill settled within him. His deepest fears seemed to be materializing.

He recalled how the two village ghosts had previously been in a restrained coexistence. While he couldn’t be certain of the implications of that delicate balance, he felt their recent actions had inadvertently upset it.

From the moment they stepped foot into Yellow Hill Village, the balance of the supernatural forces had been teetering on the brink of collapse. Their recent blunder was merely the final catalyst, causing the entity known by the codename ‘Sick Ghost’ to be vanquished. Now, another more malevolent and enigmatic ghost had taken dominion over the entirety of Yellow Hill Village.

“We need to retreat into the ancestral hall immediately,” Miles proclaimed.

Almost instinctively, Miles began to radiate a deep crimson aura, enveloping a vast ten-meter radius around him. The expansion of his ghost domain was evident, signifying he was on the verge of an impending powerful ghost’s resurgence within himself.

To his astonishment, even with his expanded ghost domain in full effect, the eerie aura of the village remained undeterred. The sensation beneath his feet was no different from his prior confrontation with the door-knocking ghost. Miles pondered if this village was not merely a standard haunted location but an entity possessing its unique sinister essence.

His mind raced back to a file he had studied which recounted the curious incident of Yellow Hill Village vanishing for three days, only to reemerge mysteriously later.

“We might be trapped here, despite my ghost domain’s capabilities,” Miles whispered apprehensively.

Now, he was confronted with a daunting decision: Either try to break free using his ghost domain, uncertain of its success, or resort to a last-resort measure he was aware of, though its efficacy was dubious at best. Both options harbored the grim possibility of death.

The weight of the situation bore down on him, with beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He felt trapped in a perilous quagmire unlike any challenge he had ever faced.

“Even if I manage to break free, the impending resurgence of the mighty ghost could seal my fate. If I fail to flee, I’m as good as dead here. Escaping seems like the most logical way to endure, but what if that’s precisely what the entity wants? Damn everything. I’m going all out!”

With steely resolve, Miles, bearing the corpse on his shoulders, vanished into thin air.

Stretch, who had been tailing closely, gasped in disbelief. “Did Miles just evaporate into nothingness?”

Yiming responded with urgency, “It must be one of Miles’s special techniques. We shouldn’t dwell on it. We have to make our way to the shrine pronto. There’s an ominous shift in the village, signaling something cataclysmic on the horizon. Miles sensed it before any of us, compelling him to act with such haste, even if it meant drawing upon the power of the ghost within.”

His heart thudded loudly, not solely because of Miles’s sudden departure, but the village’s abrupt transition from daylight to pitch darkness.

“Have all the villagers vanished?”

Within mere moments of activating his ghost domain, Miles found himself at the village’s gateway. Previously, a group of elderly villagers could be seen leisurely sipping tea and engaging in casual conversations at the entrance. A handful were occupied with burning paper offerings in the shrine. Everything appeared routine.

But now, in a heartbeat, the scene had transformed entirely with an oppressive shadow swiftly consuming the village. The atmosphere was thick with palpable tension.

Curiously, the village folk, who were only moments ago going about their routines, had now inexplicably vanished, leaving behind an eerie silence. But that wasn’t the only uncanny occurrence. The house that had earlier served as the mourning hall had also mysteriously disappeared from its foundation.

In its stead lay a desolate stretch of land overrun by wild, untamed grasses. It appeared as if the house, with its somber mourning hall, had never stood there. The landscape painted a picture of a place long forgotten by time.

Miles, bearing the weight of the corpse on his shoulders, came to a halt, rooted to the spot in utter astonishment.

Shortly after, Stretch and Yiming arrived at the scene, their faces painted with expressions of sheer incredulity.

“How can this be? The villagers, the mourning hall, that house – all just gone! Were we mistaken about our location?” Stretch pondered, surveying the surroundings with growing anxiety.

All around them, other structures remained untouched and intact. It was solely this specific house that had been wiped from existence.

Miles, ever observant, responded, “This is the exact spot.” His keen eyes detected a few droplets of a pungent liquid scattered nearby, suggesting a recent, ominous event.

Page’s involvement was unmistakable, giving weight to the guy being here earlier. However, there was a chilling possibility that he might not have been alive when he arrived.

“Miles,” Yiming implored, “Whatever you’ve discerned, share it. We need to piece this together.”

Sighing deeply, Miles began, “Our initial deductions were flawed. My belief was that the elderly woman was a ghost, and even if she wasn’t, I assumed our timely intervention would prevent any mishaps. My optimism was misguided. We’ve inadvertently shattered a delicate equilibrium here. We must brace ourselves; a formidable ghostly presence is about to manifest.”

With deliberate intent, Miles carefully set down a resplendent golden box on the ground. Drawing forth a pistol, he took aim directly at the ornate container.

Yiming, recognizing the item, gasped, “What are you thinking? That’s the—”

“The trapped spirit box,” Miles interjected. “I intend to unleash its captive. This is our last resort.”

Yiming’s typically stoic demeanor crumbled. “Are you out of your mind? Releasing another ghost into this mess? The consequences could be catastrophic!”

Miles calmly replied, “We’re left with few options. The original intent of that malevolent ‘Sick Ghost’ was to free the entity within this box. It’s possible that this captive spirit holds the solution to our predicament.”

Without waiting for any further objections, the sharp report of a gunshot filled the air as Miles fired at the box.

The bullet struck true but was repelled by the robust golden surface.

“The dynamics of the supernatural force within this village have changed. Previously, when equilibrium was maintained, it had the power to dispatch a ghost tamer with ease. But now, with the balance toppled, our intel suggests that we’re ensnared in a perilous trap. We’re surrounded by pure, unbridled malevolence. Our chances of survival are dwindling. If we stand idly by, there’s no doubt we’ll be overwhelmed. Taking this drastic measure may be our only salvation,” Miles declared with a sense of urgency.

BANG!

As the gunshot reverberated through the area, a shower of sparkles emerged from the golden box, and a slender crack finally formed. From the gash, a viscous, crimson liquid began to ooze, painting the ground with its eerie sheen. This wasn’t just any blood – it bore the violent essence of a ghostly being.

“The moment this ghost emerges, every man is for himself. Stay vigilant, keep yourselves safe for as long as you can, and we might discover a way out of this nightmare.” Without hesitation, he discharged another bullet, focusing intently on the widening aperture.

The box’s confines could no longer contain the force within. Like a dam bursting, the liquid gushed forth, enveloping the immediate vicinity. Gradually, as the blood receded, a nebulous, undulating shadow began to extricate itself, seemingly drawn to the world outside.

Stretch, taken aback by the gravity of the situation, shouted, “Are you out of your mind, Miles? I knew you had a captured ghost, but to let it out now, especially under these circumstances?”

The gravity of the situation and the potential consequences of their actions bore heavily upon him. In his eyes, Miles’s audacious move bordered on lunacy.

Miles, however, remained unwavering, his gaze never straying from the now animate shadow. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. This might be our only lifeline,” he asserted.


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