Chapter 113: The Pardoning and Appointment of the Gate Guardian

The sound of bones snapping echoed incessantly. Zhao Fusheng’s internal organs were being violently crushed; blood mixed with pulverized flesh surged from the punctures where her broken bones had pierced through. It felt as if the ghostly figures were intent on flattening her into a mere sheet of paper.

Under the overwhelming power of the vengeful spirits, her body had become a toy, leaving her without the slightest chance to fight back. The lethality of a Disaster-class spirit was extraordinary; it easily suppressed the Satiety-class spirit within her, and her ghost-arm lay dead and silent, like a severed, inanimate object.

In this moment of life and death, Zhao Fusheng endured the excruciating pain. The instant she heard the prompt from the Investiture of the Gods, she made her choice: Yes!

"Consuming 100 Merit points to open a divine seat!"

Within her sea of consciousness, the blood-stained Investiture of the Gods instantly roiled with black mist and eerie winds. Sharp, ghostly wails erupted, echoing one after another. Sensing the upheaval in the scroll, the ghostly figures of the Zhao couple paused for a moment.

At that same time, as the Merit points were deducted, the bloodstains on the first divine seat were forcibly erased by supreme willpower, leaving the position vacant.

The Investiture of the Gods prompted again: "Detection of a Disaster-class spirit. Qualification for investiture met. Do you wish to canonize the great ghosts?"

"Yes!"

At this moment, Zhao Fusheng heard a crisp "snap." Her lumbar vertebrae fractured, and her upper body slid vertically downward. Her eyeballs felt as if they were about to be forced from their sockets.

As her head tilted to the side, brushing against the edge of the ghost door-plank, she saw the ghost father and the Fan brothers facing each other, their expressions filled with a mixture of terror. In that grey, hazy world, the vitality of the group of ordinary people burned bright. Zheng He, who harnessed ghosts, had a spirit shaped like an infant curled upon him, appearing as a grey-black smudge amidst the sea of blood-red.

This was the perspective of one on the verge of becoming a ghost!

Zhao Fusheng’s lower body was sucked into the icy ghost door-plank. The blood pouring from her body merged with the ghostly shadows. Her blood acted as a fine adhesive, fusing her body with the door-plank and pinning her against the ghost mother’s back. Enveloped by the shadow of death and boundless slaughter, she confirmed the canonization in the final moment of her clear consciousness.

Instantly, the movements of the ghostly figures froze. The ghost father’s pale, mottled hands stopped right in front of the Fan brothers. The power of the Investiture of the Gods abruptly severed her connection to the door-plank. Her withered legs slowly slid free.

As her sluggish consciousness revived, she immediately slid down from the door-plank on the ghost mother's back like a child on a slide. The door-plank was mottled with blood; as soon as she escaped the jaws of death, Zhao Fusheng braced her hands on the ground and crawled forward desperately.

Inside her mind, the Investiture of the Gods prompted: "Please invite the ghost gods into the divine seat!"

Zhao Fusheng had narrowly escaped, but the danger remained. The spirits of the Zhao couple, having missed their first attempt, paused for a moment before stepping forward again.

On the other side, Zheng He and the others had witnessed Zhao Fusheng being dragged onto the door-plank. Just as they were certain she would die, she used some unknown method to escape. But after she slid down, the two ghosts ignored the Fan brothers and turned to approach her together.

"This time, she’s truly done for!" Zheng He sighed.

Anyone with eyes could see that Zhao Fusheng had already paid a heavy price to escape the ghosts' binding the first time. Even if a ghost-harnesser’s vitality was far stronger than an ordinary person’s, she was still human. With the two ghosts attacking again, how could she possibly survive? Zheng He had resigned himself to fate.

But just then, Zhao Fusheng, whose body was broken in two and lying in a twisted heap on the ground, summoned her last bit of strength to prop herself up. The ghost mother reached out to grab her head, and the ghost father abandoned the brothers to reach for her legs.

At that instant, perhaps due to sheer terror, Zheng He saw Zhao Fusheng press her palms together and hold them upward into the void—as if cupping something between her hands. In the darkness, Zheng He could see clearly that her hands were empty. Was this the instinctual reaction of someone driven mad by the fear of death?

As Zheng He pondered this, Zhao Fusheng had opened the first divine seat. As the prompt to invite the ghosts into the seats sounded, a cold object fell into her palms.

It was a strange black token, about three inches long and three fingers wide. It was made of neither gold nor jade; it was ice-cold and carried an ominous aura. But this was no time for Zhao Fusheng to investigate. Clutching the black divine token, following the instructions of the Investiture, she shouted at the two ghosts standing at either end of her body, ready to tear her apart:

"Investiture of the Gods, open! I grant these two ghosts the status of gods!"

As the words of canonization left her lips, the black energy surrounding the two ghosts surged violently. Their pulling motion ceased, giving Zhao Fusheng a moment to catch her breath. Eerie light flickered on the black token, followed by a thread of blood-red energy that wove across its surface, as if branding a shadow.

Zhao Fusheng gasped and shouted again: "Canonization complete! I command the two gods to return to their seats at once!"

Fearing a mishap in her life-or-death gamble, she shouted again: "Return to your seats at once! Do not stop!"

The seat was opened, the ritual was complete. The two ghosts stood frozen.

*Whoosh—*

Eerie winds whistled.

As Zhao Fusheng’s voice fell, a massive amount of yin-evil energy poured from the black token. In an instant, this energy engulfed the two ghosts. Their killing intent was instantly suppressed. The ghost mother released her grip on Zhao Fusheng’s head, and the ghost father loosened his hold, causing her noodle-limp body to fall to the ground with a thud.

The two ghosts were wrapped in the yin-evil energy, and the shadow of the ghost door-plank they carried gradually merged with the thick, dark shadows. The black token in Zhao Fusheng’s palm grew increasingly cold and sinister. As the figures of the two ghosts were hidden by the dense fog, the smooth surface of the token was suddenly carved by a strange force. Amidst the swirling blood-red light, ghostly figures struggled to break free, only to be ultimately suppressed by the token.

In an instant, the outline of the two ghosts carrying the door-plank was etched onto the token in blood. The miniature ghostly figures within the red light stopped struggling. As their images became clearer, they turned into relief-like carvings, branded onto the black divine token.

Once the ghosts were sealed, the Investiture of the Gods prompted again: "Please name the ghost gods."

Zhao Fusheng gripped the black token tightly, looking up with wary terror at the two spirits wrapped in dark shadows before her and behind her. The ghosts stood silently, waiting for her to bestow their final title.

She breathed with great difficulty, enduring the pain, and moved her lips: "Door Gods!"

The prompt from the Investiture of the Gods rang out: "Investiture complete! The Disaster-class great ghosts have been successfully canonized as the 'Door Gods'!"

"Host has successfully canonized ghosts as gods for the first time. Reward: 3,000 Merit points!"

"Obtained: One Investiture Order."

"Note: The Investiture Order can summon the gods (but if your Merit points are insufficient to suppress them, the summoned gods may take your life)!"

"Note: The Investiture Order allows the host to use a portion of the Door Gods' power (requires consumption of Merit points)!"

"Note: Use this order with caution. If the Merit points provided are insufficient, the gods may turn against you!"

"Obtained: The Door Gods' ability to replicate the ghost door-plank."

"Note: The host may draw ghost shadows onto a door-plank to briefly borrow the power of vengeful spirits to block other spirits."

"Successfully resolved the Bao County ghost door-plank case, prevented a massacre, and saved the city's inhabitants. Reward: 2,000 Merit points!"

"Used civilians as bait, causing a decline in public sentiment. Penalty: 1,000 Merit points."

"Forcibly requisitioned the Ding'an Tower, causing a decline in public sentiment. Penalty: 200 Merit points."

"..."

"Hell is empty, and the wicked roam the world."

"Detected the host has a tendency toward death. Consuming 500 Merit points to restore."

"Hell is affected by the Investiture of the Gods. Consuming 200 Merit points to stabilize."

"Reminder: Please open Hell as soon as possible to maintain balance with the divine seats of the Investiture of the Gods."

"..."

A series of alerts exploded in Zhao Fusheng's mind. Unable to calculate them carefully, she forced herself to memorize every prompt. As the Merit points were earned and deducted, her horrific injuries began to heal. Fractured bones reset and reconnected; torn skin writhed as it knitted back together. The internal organs that had been crushed by the ghost door-plank recovered one by one; her chest and abdomen filled out as if inflated, and her numb legs regained sensation...

Zhao Fusheng sat up from the ground. The black token in her palm vanished, retreating into her sea of consciousness. With the successful investiture, the two ghosts, once shrouded in shadow, were also sealed within the token.

"..."

As Zhao Fusheng climbed to her feet, she turned her neck, still feeling a lingering sense of dread. With a series of clicks, her broken bones had re-knit, and her flesh had plumped up, showing no signs of the terrifying state she had been in when the ghost mother nearly twisted her apart.

The Fan brothers, having survived the ordeal, stared in shock as Zhao Fusheng, who had been tossed around by the ghosts for so long, miraculously revived. They could hardly believe their eyes. Both brothers had thought they were dead for sure. After all, Zhao Fusheng, the strongest among them, had fallen into the hands of the spirits like a toy. Since they were not ghost-harnessers, they had no chance against such entities.

Yet, Zhao Fusheng had used some unknown method. Just as the ghosts were about to kill her, a massive amount of ghostly mist had erupted, engulfing them, and in the blink of an eye, the two spirits had vanished without a trace. Had she really sealed the ghosts again in the face of death? How on earth did she do it? She clearly only harnessed a Satiety-class spirit! Even with the ghost-arm, the Beggar Ghost was only Satiety-class. How could two Satiety-class spirits defeat the Zhao couple, who had reached an indescribable level of power?

Countless questions raced through Fan Bisi’s mind. He knew Zhao Fusheng had handled several ghost cases. She had gone to Beggar Alley alone, and in the Dog-Head Village case, she had brought Zhang Chuanshi, and both had returned alive. She had even escaped from the ghost train of a Disaster-class calamity—but none of those things were as shocking as witnessing her disperse these two spirits.

The Fan brothers had been in close contact with the ghosts and could sense the ferocity of the Zhao couple; they were far more vicious than any spirit they had encountered at the Demon Suppression Bureau. Yet, Zhao Fusheng had survived even this. Although she had promised she had ways to ensure her survival on this trip to Bao County, the brothers had only held on by the skin of their teeth. But once the two ghosts appeared, no one had believed they would live.

Yet, Zhao Fusheng had miraculously won again. She wasn't dead!

"This—" Fan Bisi opened his mouth. Watching Zhao Fusheng turn her head, waist, and legs as if nothing had happened, he finally found his voice and called out cautiously: "Fu... Fu... Fusheng—?"

"Hmm?" Zhao Fusheng, who was re-adjusting to her restored body, turned her head.

Fan Bisi was clutching Fan Wujiu’s collar, who was only standing upright thanks to his brother’s support. Both brothers stared at her in anxious confusion, completely baffled by the situation.

Zhao Fusheng rubbed her neck, and seeing their speechless state, she said, "The ghost case is over. The two spirits have been subdued."

"..."

Even though the brothers had guessed as much the moment the ghosts vanished, hearing the words from Zhao Fusheng’s own mouth felt like Mount Tai crashing down upon them. It left them light-headed and their thoughts momentarily disconnected.

"The ghost case is over," Fan Bisi said, his consciousness slowly returning as he felt the ground beneath his feet. "It's over?!"

"It's over," Zhao Fusheng glanced at the brothers and smiled. "We’ll rest for a day, and then we can set off back to Wan'an County!"

"The ghost case is over!" Joy surged in Fan Bisi’s heart. His relief was far greater than Zhao Fusheng’s. Before these cases, the expectations of both sides had been unequal. Zhao Fusheng’s confidence came from the Investiture, while his had only come from her—and it hadn't been much. Because of their history and the fact that the Zhao couple were her parents, the brothers had been terrified, expecting to die. Now that the dust had settled, they finally believed they had survived.

"The case is over, Wujiu." He turned to his brother, only to see him pale and trembling, still immersed in the terror of the ghosts. Fan Bisi shook his collar hard: "Wujiu, the case is over!"

The guards, the messengers, the civilians used as bait, Liu Rong of the Ding'an Tower, and Xu Yachen inside—all heard Fan Bisi’s shout.

"The ghost case is over?" Zheng He crouched among the crowd. He had thought the messenger from Wan'an County would be torn in two, but the ghosts had stopped abruptly. Then, black mist had blocked his vision. When it cleared, the ghosts were gone, and Zhao Fusheng was standing there, full of life.

Zheng He felt as if he were lost in a fog. How did this happen? How could spirits that had reached Disaster-class vanish into thin air? Did they leave? What method did she use to snatch life from the jaws of death?

Zheng He still couldn't believe it. But the yin-evil energy of the ghosts was fading. The torches, suppressed by the spirits, grew bright again, restoring light to the surroundings. The ghost mist covering the Ding'an Tower gardens dissipated, and the ghost domain was lifted. In the distance, the Shangjia River and the boats docked there became visible once more.

Everything proved that Fan Bisi hadn't lied. The dual-ghost case that had plagued Bao County had been formally resolved by Zhao Fusheng.