"May I go in?" Mo Lin asked politely, gesturing toward the distant village.
The bodyguards standing before him didn't respond. They stood like statues, perfectly still, as though they hadn't heard a word he'd spoken.
Mo Lin, unfazed by the silence, seated himself on the concrete steps, gazing quietly at the village in the distance.
As impatience set in, he began to draw circles absentmindedly on the ground with a stick.
The bodyguards, standing farther ahead, had their eyes locked on the village. Their expressions were tense, brows furrowed, as if anticipating something ominous.
Whether it was a trick of the light or some illusion, it suddenly felt as if the darkness had deepened.
Without artificial light, one might as well have been blind—everything would be shrouded in pitch-black night.
All at once, Mo Lin stood up sharply, his eyes narrowing as he stared toward the east.
The sudden movement startled the guards. One of them, just about to rebuke Mo Lin for his abruptness, was interrupted by a piercing cry.
"Help me... Ahh…"
The scream was shrill and sharp, slicing through the silence like a blade, making the guards' scalps crawl.
Their heads buzzed from the intensity of the sound. Though they instantly recognized the voice as belonging to their young miss, none of them dared to move.
The direction from which the scream had come was swallowed by darkness—nothing could be seen.
One of the guards tried to move toward Qian Yun's location but found himself unable to lift his legs. He was paralyzed by fear.
Qian Yun was in despair. Never before had she encountered such a terrifying ghost.
She was engulfed by thick, black smoke. Her body felt unbearably heavy—so much so that taking even a single step forward was a struggle.
All she could do was scream, her voice filled with desperation.
"Get lost!"
A fierce shout cut through the air.
Though she was trapped in a scene of hopelessness, that angry voice filled her with an unexpected sense of safety.
Suddenly, her body felt lighter. The black mist surrounding her dispersed as if driven away by an unseen force.
A young man dressed in a crimson, traditional official's robe appeared before her.
Without hesitation, Qian Yun threw herself into his arms.
"Please save me! Take me away from here! I'll pay you—money, a lot of it! Just please, save me!"
She clutched desperately at Mo Lin's clothes, as though he were the last lifeline she had in this world.
Her appearance was pitiful. Her right foot still wore a high heel, while her left was bare—the other shoe lost somewhere in the chaos.
Blood stained her right leg, her elegant cheongsam was torn to shreds, and her disheveled hair hung loose, revealing pale skin beneath.
She looked like a woman who had fallen from grace, wandering the streets in ruin.
From the looks of her, she had likely used some kind of life-saving item to make it out alive.
Mo Lin grabbed Qian Yun by the collar, lifting her effortlessly as though she were a kitten. He carried her slowly back to the fried chicken shop where the others were stationed.
Qian Yun stared at him, captivated by his calm demeanor and powerful presence.
The moment the bodyguards saw her return, they rushed to her side and quickly offered her a coat.
"Stay here. I'm going to check it out," Mo Lin said coolly.
"No—don't go!" Qian Yun tried to block his path, panic in her voice. "The ghost inside... it's terrifying. It's not just dangerous—it'll kill you!"
But Mo Lin, as if deaf to her plea, continued toward the village without pause.
Panic gripped Qian Yun's chest. The situation had spiraled beyond her control.
Fumbling for her phone, she quickly called her family, her voice trembling as she demanded reinforcements.
...
Mo Lin's right eye had turned a dull gray, its pupil glowing faintly with a ghostly light.
He had activated his Ghost Eye ability.
To him, the pitch-black world before him now shone as brightly as day.
He could see everything with astonishing clarity.
The doors of the mud-brick houses were broken, their interiors filled with decaying furniture and rusted, corroded iron.
A heavy, metallic stench of blood assaulted his senses.
He followed the trail of blood.
Blood spattered the ground, and several corpses of men lay sprawled across it.
He recognized their faces—they were the Ghost Controllers Qian Yun had brought with her earlier.
Now, all of them were dead.
Slap.
A bloodied hand suddenly landed on Mo Lin's shoulder.
Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with the bloodied figure of Elder Yun—the old man who had previously been introduced to him.
"Young man... please, take me with you," Elder Yun rasped.
His right arm had been severed, and the pouch slung across his chest was tattered and torn.
Clutched in his remaining hand was a half-broken copper coin. His eyes were wide with panic.
"The ghost inside… it's monstrous. We need to go—now!" Elder Yun urged again, his eyes darting nervously around.
Yet, strangely enough, the ghost hadn't followed.
A blessing, perhaps.
"Young man—run!" he repeated.
But his injuries were too severe. Even if he had wanted to escape, he couldn't.
"I'll give you three thousand underworld coins—just get me out of here," he pleaded.
Yet Mo Lin did not leave. Instead, he moved further into the darkness, scanning his surroundings as though searching for something.
"What are you doing? Are you... are you trying to provoke it?!"
Before Elder Yun could finish, Mo Lin dashed forward and plunged his hand into the thick black fog ahead.
With a forceful tug, he yanked out a figure shrouded in darkness.
A grotesque male ghost emerged, its face rotting and covered in oozing black-gray blood—revolting beyond belief.
Mo Lin grimaced and looked away. The sight alone made him nauseous. He didn't want to lose his dinner.
Name: Chu Xing
Level: Terrifying
Ghost Technique: Soul Chains
Soul Chains: Uses iron chains to bind enemies, restrict their movements, and deliver fatal attacks.
It was a moderate ability—neither weak nor particularly formidable.
But this was where the Ghost Eye shone. With a single glance, Mo Lin had discerned everything about the creature before him.
Chu Xing twisted his disfigured face into a threatening expression, baring his teeth. Yet his limbs remained frozen, unable to move.
He wanted to fight back—but Mo Lin's power was overwhelming.
His strength had completely sealed Chu Xing's movements. He was like a cat with its scruff grabbed—utterly helpless.
A moment earlier, Chu Xing had indeed launched an aggressive attack.
However, every strike had been absorbed by Mo Lin's Underworld Robe, which protected him flawlessly.
Had it been Elder Yun or anyone else, they would have died in that instant.
Moreover, Mo Lin's method of capturing Chu Xing wasn't arbitrary.
It was a specialized technique known to all ghost officials—The Soul-Scattering Capture Technique.
There were thirteen forms of the technique.
Mo Lin had used the thirteenth form—Ghost Binding.
To the untrained eye, it looked like Mo Lin had simply grabbed the ghost.
But to someone experienced, it was clear he had used a masterful method.
Elder Yun was stunned.
"This young man... he's that powerful?"
He realized then that he had severely underestimated Mo Lin.
This youth wasn't ordinary—he was at least a fourth-rank Ghost Controller.
"Are you a ghost of the Bridge of Helplessness? Or do you hail from the Ghost Domain?"
In the underworld, three major factions ruled:
Ye Dou, led by the King of Hell himself.
Bridge of Helplessness, led by the Judge and Lady Meng.
Ghost Domain, led by the Ghost King.
Ghosts of Ye Dou were generally peaceful and rarely harmed the living.
Those from the Bridge were mixed—some benevolent, others malevolent.
But those from the Ghost Domain were all vicious—violent by nature, stained with karmic sins, and prone to slaughter.
"Urgh… Get lost!" Chu Xing snarled, refusing to answer.
Mo Lin didn't bother replying.
He slammed Chu Xing into the ground.
Boom!
The impact left a deep crater in the earth.
Black mist dispersed from Chu Xing's form, and his ghostly body dimmed.
BANG!
Mo Lin struck again—another fierce slam into the dirt.