When Chen Ge appeared, the members of the Ghost Story Association were merely surprised. But after they heard Chen Ge yell "Follow me!", the two black-robed figures could no longer stay calm.
One Chen Ge wasn't frightening. What was frightening was the howling, fury-laden ghostly horde surging in behind him.
There were far too many of them!
Scalp tingling, the two Ghost Story Association members watched the entire sequence unfold—from the moment Chen Ge appeared to the moment the ghostly horde crashed toward them like a tsunami—in a matter of seconds.
They had no time to figure out whether these spirits were following Chen Ge or chasing him.
As outsiders, the two black-robed figures instinctively treated Chen Ge and the ghosts behind him as enemies.
The lean, elongated monster formed from six intertwined silhouettes forced back Zhu Xinrou and returned to the black-robed figures' side. But on its own, it was no match against the wrathful horde. The only thing that could suppress the various spirits in the village was a red-coat!
The Ghost Story Association members knew this well. The two exchanged a few quick words. One of them—the black-robed figure who had yet to act—let out a soft sigh. He extended his hand from within his sleeve, palm cradling a small wooden box.
When Chen Ge saw that hand, his pupils contracted sharply. His blood began to race, and a scene from the Ghost Story Association's Wednesday gathering flashed through his mind.
"Pale skin, long fingers, impeccably manicured—I think I saw this hand that day. Its owner must have been standing right beside me!"
The familiar scene surfaced in his mind, and Chen Ge couldn't hold back. He blurted out: "Number Ten! You're the Ghost Story Association's Number Ten!"
After Chen Ge shouted those two words, that hand visibly trembled for an instant—then quickly steadied itself.
The owner wasn't rattled by Chen Ge's outburst and opened the wooden box.
It was similar to the box Zhang Ya had taken from the devil—a small patch of dried black blood still clung to its edges.
The instant the lid was lifted, the ghost infant in the arms of the woman named Zhu seemed to sense something. Blood seeped to the surface of its tiny body, as though it were ready to strike at any moment.
But since the Ghost Story Association members dared to bring out the wooden box, they had naturally come prepared. They paid the ghost infant no mind, all their attention fixed on the box.
"Xiong Qing, come out. Your wish can be fulfilled now."
Hearing the black-robed figure's words, Chen Ge's heart lurched. "Xiong Qing was shot by the police and is in the hospital—how can he be here?"
He remembered this patient with hemiplegic syndrome very well—one half of his face covered in scars, the other half pristine and untouched. Back in the Third Ward, Chen Ge had chased Xiong Qing through the entire building.
The black-robed figure spoke in a low voice. The black bloodstains along the box's rim slowly dissipated, and a thick, putrid stench drifted from within.
Filaments of blood crawled out of the wooden box. Twisting together as though alive, they coalesced into a figure wearing a blood-red hospital gown.
One half of the body looked perfectly normal. The other half writhed with blood filaments, all manner of wounds exposed—it looked as though that half had been torn apart while still alive.
The blood filaments tried several times to solidify but failed each time.
"How much agony did he endure before death?" Xiong Qing had suffered from hemiplegic syndrome. His perception of symmetry differed from that of a normal person—to him, the entire world appeared slanted, and only through his own methods could he correct it.
He had once been a doctor in the Third Ward. He had "corrected" his patients this way before. Now it seemed he had performed one final, radical correction on himself.
His eyes slowly opened. Scarlet light settled on Chen Ge, brimming with resentment. Even in death, he was determined to kill him!
"What the hell is going on? Captain Li said on the phone that Xiong Qing had been captured! So how did his ghost end up here—and how has he become a red-coat?"