The atmosphere was heavy. Chen Ge stopped in his tracks, standing on opposite sides of the rail tracks from the black shadow.
Against ordinary lingering spirits and vengeful ghosts, Chen Ge could already keep his composure without breaking a sweat, but Red-clothed ghosts still posed a real threat to him.
Earlier, when he had been running at full speed to save people, he had discarded both the bag containing the Doraemon costume and his backpack by the roadside.
Right now, none of his employees were with him.
His palm closed on empty air, and Chen Ge felt uneasy. He kept wanting to grasp something to steady his nerves.
The night was like a curtain drawn across the moonlight and stars, and the changes in the black shadow were not yet finished.
The originally frail, hunched body slowly straightened. The wrinkles at the corners of the eyes smoothed away. Blood seeped from the forehead, tracing a bizarre symbol across the face — something like a birthmark, yet also like a blood-red tattoo.
Chen Ge and the man stood on opposite sides of the tracks. He watched the man without drawing any closer.
"A birthmark?"
This was Chen Ge's first time encountering a vengeful ghost like this — blood forming a symbol on the face. Looking closely, he realized that what appeared to be a birthmark was actually formed by countless overlapping faces.
They occupied half the man's face, meaning only one half was his original appearance, while the other half seemed to be in a constant state of flux.
"This presence is far beyond Xu Yin's. As expected of a Red-clothed ghost whose rarity is second only to Zhang Ya."
He swallowed hard. Chen Ge glanced over his shoulder — he had thrown his backpack a long way back. There was absolutely no chance of running back to retrieve it now.
Standing his ground, Chen Ge told himself to stay calm. Pretending not to have figured out the man's true identity, he spoke in a perfectly natural tone: "You're the one who's been on the phone with me tonight?"
The man looked refined, even handsome. His eyes were not large, but they seemed to contain an entire world within them, drawing anyone who met his gaze into an involuntary trance.
His pupils contracted. This was Chen Ge's first time encountering a Red-clothed ghost like this one. The feeling the man gave off was strange — there was none of the bloodlust and savagery common to other Red-clothed spirits. Instead, it was something indescribable, like moonlight on a cold winter's night.
"I'm here to help you." Chen Ge didn't know what else to say. He couldn't gauge this Red-clothed ghost's strength, so he didn't dare make any reckless moves.
The two stared at each other for a long time before the strange man finally spoke, looking at Chen Ge: "Their lives and deaths have nothing to do with you. Why would you risk your own life to save them?"
"Why are you still hung up on that question? I'm no saint — I don't run around playing hero every day for fun. But since I stumbled upon the situation, I'll do whatever I can within my power to help them." Chen Ge spoke with genuine sincerity. "Even if I know they'll probably go back to trying to kill themselves afterward, at least I bought them one more chance to think things over."
Something in Chen Ge's words seemed to strike a chord. The blood on the man's face stopped flowing, and his expression softened considerably.
He gazed at the rail tracks stretching into the darkness and let out a quiet sigh: "If I had been even half as clever as you back then, he wouldn't have died."
"He? Wouldn't have died?" Chen Ge was filled with confusion. "What do you mean? I started coming into contact with these dead people only after dialing a certain number. Did you dial that number once too? Or was it you who left it behind?"
The reward he had drawn from the Black Phone was called "The Number Kissed by the Dead" — every deceased person had dialed this number before their death. The thought sent a chill down Chen Ge's spine, because he himself had dialed it several times already tonight.