Chapter Seventeen: Investigating the Ghostly Case

Chapter Seventeen

Once she figured this out, Zhao Fusheng realized that she had no choice but to take on this case—not only to accumulate virtue and unlock her position on the Divine Investiture List, but also to complete the mission set by the Demon Suppression Division and avoid the punishment imposed by the Ghost Envoys of the Soul Register.

She took a deep breath.

She knew nothing about the workings of the Demon Suppression Division, nor did she understand the consequences of defying the ghostly curse. But since her very life was at stake in matters involving the supernatural, she had to be doubly cautious and minimize her chances of making mistakes.

The situation was direly against her. After sitting in silence for a long while, Zhao Fusheng abruptly stood up.

She glanced back at her predecessor’s parents and said softly, “I’ll lay you to rest in the earth first, and then I’ll go deal with the Demon Suppression Division’s case.”

She didn’t know if she would return safely from this journey, but waiting passively for disaster was not in her nature.

Her gaze grew resolute. She dusted herself off and walked toward the side chamber where the division’s past records were stored.

Fan Bisi was cunning and deceitful, mixing truth and lies in his speech, but he hadn’t lied about where the records were kept.

Following his directions, Zhao Fusheng entered the chamber.

After the original host joined the Demon Suppression Division, her timid nature kept her from wandering, so she only moved around in areas designated by the Fan brothers. Later, when the ghostly disaster broke out, she was too frightened and distracted to investigate her surroundings, already scared out of her wits, trembling at the slightest sound.

This was Zhao Fusheng’s first time entering this room.

Her first impression was of utter chaos. By the dim light filtering through the skylight set high in the wall, she saw the shelves, floor, long table, and stools all stained with hardened, splattered black marks. Instinctively, Zhao Fusheng guessed these must be bloodstains.

She looked up and saw that even the beams, more than ten feet above, were spattered with blood.

A strand of spider silk, wrapped in shreds of dried flesh, hung from the eaves, black and hard like an inverted stalactite.

Something terrible must have happened here. Perhaps, when the ghostly disaster erupted, someone from the Demon Suppression Division was killed by a vengeful specter in this very room.

Those who came to collect the bodies had no heart to clean up; they simply tidied up the worst of it. The scattered scrolls and lingering bloodstains remained, strewn everywhere.

Though she was alone in the room, the terror and panic of that day still clung to the chaotic space.

Along the walls, shelves were filled with documents and scrolls. Only a few cubbyholes were empty; the rest were packed.

A long table stood in the center, flanked by several waist-high round stools. At the head of the table was a high-backed square chair.

Zhao Fusheng counted the stools—there were eight.

The room was spacious; many more people could have stood around as well.

From the arrangement, Zhao Fusheng could almost picture the Demon Suppression Division at its peak in Wan’an County—officials and commanders gathered to discuss cases.

Sadly, the glory had faded; only three remained alive in the office.

The stark contrast, together with the ghostly traces in the room, brought a chilling sense of menace.

As Zhao Fusheng pushed open the door, dust swirled and the silence broke. A musty, rotten smell invaded her nostrils.

The stench and the chaos pricked at her deepest fears. Goosebumps rose instantly on her back, and she was seized by an urge to flee.

Since her ordeal yesterday, Zhao Fusheng had not eaten a thing. Hunger gnawed at her, making her dizzy.

But she had no way out. Finding a clue in Beggar’s Alley was her only sliver of hope.

She shook her head, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to escape. Forcing down the queasiness in her gut, she steadied herself, unlatched the window to let in fresh air, and waited until the stifling smell faded. Then she picked up a random scroll from the table and unrolled it.

The document read: “Han Year 231, January 4th. Traveled to Fisherman’s Village, Huarong Town, Wan’an County. Subdued a ghost in the village ancestral hall.”

It went on to record the village background: most people there lived by fishing, hence the name.

Zhao Fusheng read on.

“I took Wang Quan, Zhou Ling, and Sun Wu, three commandants. All three were eventually killed by the vengeful ghost.

“When Sun Wu died, I finally discovered the ghost’s killing rules and deduced the following pattern.

“The ghost is Rank: Malevolent Spirit, using water as its medium.

“Wherever there is water, the ghost’s reflection appears. Once a person sees their own reflection in water, the ghost marks them, and they are eventually claimed by the specter.

“After figuring out the method and process, I risked looking at my reflection in water, then kept my eyes covered the entire time. In this way, I escaped the ghost’s killing law.

“Once this method spread, the survivors each followed it. Eventually the ghost, finding no one left to kill, left Wang Village.”

…

The details were sparse, but Zhao Fusheng pondered the scroll for a long time.

The case seemed simple, the solution unexpected, yet the sparse words of the record still held a trace of lingering relief.

The scroll she had picked at random recorded a case where four from the Demon Suppression Division were sent—and three died.

Clearly, while Fan Bisi might mix lies and truth, his warnings about the danger of dealing with ghosts were genuine.

“Malevolent Spirit level…”

Fan Bisi had mentioned this level too.

He had said that when a ghost reached the Malevolent Spirit level, it gained the power to create a haunted domain.

“I wonder if there are ranks between Malevolent Spirit and Fiend…”

So far, all she knew was that Fiend-level ghosts were even more terrifying, but what exactly defined the Malevolent Spirit level, she did not know.

Now, Fan Bisi only wanted to escape. Unless she agreed to release his soul, he could not be trusted.

She rolled up the document and set it back on the table.

The exorcism case she had just read gave her both encouragement and a new perspective.

If her abilities weren’t enough early on, perhaps she didn’t need to fight the ghost head-on.

According to the record, if she could find the rules of the ghost’s killing method and break them, the ghost would “think” it had already killed everyone, and would likely leave.

“Isn’t that just deception?” she murmured, her eyes brightening.

Beggar’s Alley had become a haunted domain, and the domain existed because of the vengeful ghost. If she entered and found out the ghost’s rules for killing, then “tricked” it into leaving, the domain would vanish and the case would be solved.

The thought filled her with hope.

She picked up another scroll and unrolled it.

“Han Year 223, October 17th, Scholar’s Town of Wan’an County…”

“Ghost: Malevolent Spirit level. Both companions died.”

Their names were noted as well.

…

She read through several more scrolls. Most cases were resolved by discovering and exploiting the ghost’s rules, rarely by direct exorcism. She also noticed a pattern: all the ghosts recorded were Malevolent Spirit level.

From this, she deduced that if ghosts had a hierarchy, Malevolent Spirit was the lowest rank where they became truly dangerous.

Even so, they were terrifying.

She realized that every scroll recorded deaths—sometimes all the commandants died, sometimes only one. The mortality rate was horrifyingly high, sending chills down her spine.

This time, she would be entering Beggar’s Alley alone. Judging by Fan Bisi’s current attitude, he would not accompany her, nor did she trust the Fan brothers.

That meant she would likely face this alone. And, if the past records of the Demon Suppression Division were any indication, her chances of dying were one hundred percent.

…

Zhao Fusheng fell into deep thought.