Mysterious Awakening - Chapter 52: Lying Down

Believing they had found temporary sanctuary in the storeroom, they were caught off-guard by an unexpected revelation. A ghost had been tailing their every move all this time, a fact they remained oblivious to until Miles raised the alarm. If they had continued in their ignorance, the outcome would have been chillingly clear: none of them would have survived, Ethan, the ghost tamer, included.

A ghost tamer may possess the might of a ghostly entity, yet they are not invincible. Reckless employment of their ghostly power merely hastens their downfall. Among the group, Miles spotted Ethan, the young man who bore this title. His skin was ashen, signaling significant blood loss and extreme fatigue.

Miles was more worried about the hidden ghost within Ethan. How close was he to his breaking point? When would the suppressed ghostly beast within him stir?

“Are you human?” Ethan asked, his panic contrasting with the rest of the group. After vacating the storeroom, he paused, studying Miles with an intense, serious gaze, unsure whether the young security guard standing before him was mortal or a ghost.

“I believe I am human. You’re Ethan, aren’t you? The ghost tamer?” Miles responded.

Ethan’s eyes contracted a fraction as he asked, “And what about you?”

“I’m with Ghost Tamers Headquarters,” Miles said after a moment’s thought, deciding to take a risk. Admitting that he was a mere student would seem undignified. Moreover, Rain, the operator, had also expressed a desire for him to join the headquarters.

“Ghost Tamers Headquarters?” Ethan’s scrutiny of Miles intensified. The sight of him in his security uniform lent credibility to his claim. When he noticed the satellite positioning watch – standard issue for Headquarters staff – draped on Miles’ chest, his skepticism waned.

“I’ve heard the Headquarters is seriously understaffed, barely managing one representative per city nationwide. Right used to be the man in charge in Dachang City. What’s your name?”

“My name is Miles,” he answered calmly, “I should inform you, Right has passed away. He was a casualty of a recent school incident.”

Ethan nodded, “I see. Thanks for your assistance earlier. How did you fend off that multitude of aggressive ghosts? Even a seasoned ghost tamer can be overwhelmed in such a situation. I had initially presumed the mall disappearances were caused by a C-level ghost at worst. Clearly, I have grossly underestimated the circumstances.”

He looked crestfallen, remorse etched on his face as he berated his own actions. “If I’d known it would escalate this way, I wouldn’t have let my greed get the best of me.”

“What abilities have been your lifeline against these relentless assaults?” Miles decided to switch gears, turning the question back onto Ethan.

Ethan didn’t hold back. Glancing down at his blood-soaked hands, he confessed, “In the underworld, they call me ‘Ghost Blood Ethan.’ My hands, stained with ghost blood, can suppress other ghostly entities. I once captured a ghost with some help, but my ghost blood cannot be exposed for too long. Otherwise, more ghost will rise from the blood.”

“Hold on, did you say you worked with others to capture a ghost?” Miles’ eyes narrowed in surprise. “How did you manage that? Are ghosts even capturable?”

Ethan explained, “The method is straightforward yet crude. I leveraged ghost blood to inhibit the ghost’s mobility. If it’s promptly enclosed in a pure gold box with a tight seal, the ghost cannot escape.”

“Isn’t that a universally acknowledged technique among ghost tamers?” he queried.

“I’m still an intern, not a fully-fledged member,” Miles clarified.

Indeed, he recalled coming across a related article online by a certain Professor Bruce Pi. The piece suggested that while ghostly energy could affect all materials, it didn’t interact with gold. The professor had attempted to investigate this scientifically and thoroughly, seeking ways to manipulate ghosts.

The implications were intriguing. If accurate, a golden vessel could, in fact, contain and capture ghosts. But it was a means of imprisonment, not extermination.

Their discussion was interrupted by a panicked cry for help. Miles glanced around, realizing the severed ghosts had formed a menacing circle around them, blocking every exit route. Unless they took the lethal plunge from the fifth floor, escape seemed impossible. The trapped occupants, including business owner Mr. Calm, Mall Manager Li, and Master Catch, were now screaming in despair.

“How are you so composed in the face of such an overwhelming ghostly presence?” came the desperate query. Ethan, too, was alarmed, “Even as the person in charge, you won’t survive this onslaught. If you exhaust your ghost power, it will kill you. Surely, you’re aware of that.”

“Of course, I am,” Miles replied composedly, “You, too, must have expended a significant amount of your ghost power. I see your control over the ghost blood on your hands is wavering. You’re nearing your threshold. Have you selected your coffin already?”

“I grasp your point. But in desperate times, survival often calls for such measures,” Ethan bit back, his teeth clenched.

“Sometimes there are no choices. But in dealing with ghosts, if your first thought is to use your ghost power, your end will come sooner. My strategy is different. I rely primarily on my intellect, resorting to ghost power only when all logical solutions fail. However, this isn’t the time for debate. I can’t let the businessman perish.” A small grin crept onto Miles’s face.

With that, he advanced towards the ghostly assembly looming nearby.

Ethan’s expression shifted dramatically. Even he wouldn’t dare confront so many ghosts simultaneously. How did this young ghost tamer summon such audacity? Looking at the others entrapped by the ghosts, he had resigned to their fate, focusing solely on his escape route.

Earning money was not worth forfeiting his life.

Suddenly, Ethan watched in disbelief as Miles walked over and knocked several of the group members down.

As a series of screams rang out, several individuals tripped and tumbled to the ground. Was this a rescue or a disastrous misstep? Ethan looked on, bewildered.

“If you want to live, stay put on the floor. That will keep the ghosts from attacking, and you’ll have a shot at survival. Running will only speed up your demise,” Miles advised Mr. Calm, gripping his collar tightly.

In the face of encroaching ghosts, Mr. Calm had no other choice. Heeding Miles’s advice, he clamped his eyes shut and lay perfectly still on the ground. With his back flush against the floor, this position shielded him effectively from ghostly attacks from every direction.

“Anyone else who wants to survive, follow his example. Lay down and don’t move,” Miles reiterated.

While some complied, many considered Miles’s advice absurd, equating laying down to willingly embracing death. Panicked, they opted to flee instead.

“Hey, don’t jump from the fifth floor; you’ll surely die!” Miles warned a man. Ignoring his advice, a colleague of Master Catch, overwhelmed with fear, leapt over the railing from the fifth floor.

Miles sighed inwardly. Had the man stayed put, he might have survived. But the jump was an irrevocable death sentence.

The jumpers were doomed, and the runners didn’t fare much better. The ghosts quickly cornered them, leaving them with no escape. Then, horrific screams echoed through the air as grisly arms stretched out, abruptly ceasing as several heads were brutally ripped off. Some ghosts swapped their own heads with the fresh ones, creating new ghostly entities.

After the grisly spectacle, an eerie calm descended. The ghosts became motionless. Astonishingly, the remaining people lying on the ground were unscathed; they had survived.

Ethan, who also lay prone, was aghast. He looked at Miles, standing against the railing without turning his back to any ghost, as though he had seen a ghost.

“What do you think? I didn’t lie to you, did I?” Miles addressed him, “Congratulations, you survived. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, let’s settle my fee. Just to be upfront, my services don’t come cheap.”

Why would he risk his life for these contemptible wealthy people? The motive was simple: to earn money. After all, Miles wasn’t in this for the love of his clients.