Chapter Fifty-Two: Spirits in the Dead of Night

Just dealing with Jiang Yuan alone isn’t much to fear, but the real trouble lies with the others; they may not be strong enough to challenge me, yet I worry they’ll stab me in the back. I certainly don’t want to repeat last time, when I spent two out of three days of the game flat on my back.

“Get lost.”

I deliberately amplified my voice with spiritual energy, making it sound far more intimidating. But Jiang Yuan, being of the same Spirit Leaf rank as me, was unfazed. He looked at me with a mischievous grin, then thought for a moment before saying,

“I won’t kill you today, but hand over your bag.”

With that, Jiang Yuan reached out for my pack. I thought, how shameless can he be? I couldn’t stand for it. Fixing my gaze, I instantly summoned the Snow Blade and slashed at Jiang Yuan’s thumb.

At that moment, Jiang Yuan had let his guard down. He only felt the pain once he realized his thumb had been sliced off. As he clutched his bleeding hand and roared in anger, I kicked him hard, sending him flying several meters away.

To my surprise, he actually passed out—maybe from the pain, maybe from my kick.

“Take him back. And get lost,” I said softly, holding the blade aloft.

His lackeys had never witnessed anything like this; without hesitation, they scrambled to carry Jiang Yuan away. I couldn’t help but chuckle—never expected Jiang Yuan to be so weak.

But that laugh startled the others behind me, who worried I might be sick or something. They hurried over and asked,

“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

Suppressing my amusement, I waved them off and turned to Chu Yao.

“By the way, wasn’t your team pretty big? Why are you alone?”

Chu Yao lowered her head, tinged with sadness, and replied,

“They’re all dead…”

I nodded calmly, as if death was now a perfectly normal occurrence.

“From now on, join our team.”

Chu Yao nodded with delight, as though she’d anticipated my invitation. As for the bag in her hand, I didn’t bother asking.

Now our team had two bags, and I wasn’t in the mood to wander aimlessly. I called everyone back to our quarters.

I noticed Chu Yao’s personality was much like Nan Gong Xi’s—obedient, quiet girls. It was around ten in the morning; we still had four or five hours until three in the afternoon. Once we returned, I plopped down on the floor and began practicing the Tanzi Record.

Though my granduncle said the Tanzi Record was difficult, its effects were remarkable; the spiritual energy I drew into my body was incredibly pure.

Time always flies during cultivation. Before long, my phone’s ringtone jolted me awake.

I slowly opened my eyes and took a deep breath, realizing it was already three o’clock. The ringtone had been a message from the Ghost King.

“The six who haven’t completed their tasks will be hunted by the giant wolf. Today’s game ends here.

“One more thing: from tonight onward, different-strength ghosts will appear on the playground each night. Killing the stronger ones will earn rewards.”

I’d witnessed the giant wolf’s hunt myself, so there was no need to panic. The real concern was those varying strengths of ghosts.

Looking out the window at the darkening sky, I silently resolved,

“Tonight, I’ll go out and hunt the strongest ghost.”

If I can’t beat it, I’ll run; if I can, all the better—even a bit of food would help. With another new member, we’d need more supplies.

...

By evening, we’d finished all the chocolate, and only one bottle of water remained.

I set an alarm, switched the ringtone to vibrate, and closed my eyes to cultivate.

Since Chu Yao was a girl, naturally we took care of her—she slept in the bed, while Chen Chen and Li Zijian curled up on the tables.

With those thoughts, I slipped happily into my practice.

Gradually, the little leaf atop my head grew colder and more saturated.

...

The phone’s vibration finally roused me, and I reluctantly opened my eyes.

It was past midnight, and the chill was more intense than usual. My heart leapt—there must be ghosts tonight!

Glancing at my three sleeping companions and seeing no movement, I crept out quietly.

Outside, the cold was biting, as if I’d fallen into an ice cellar—a strange, unplaceable eeriness.

I glanced at the phone group chat; nobody was speaking.

But raising my head again, I was startled!

Before me stood a male ghost, his long hair veiling his face, dressed in white running attire.

My anger flared; I instantly drew the Snow Blade and slashed at the ghost.

He reacted slowly, not even dodging, and was cleaved apart. His spirit gradually dissipated into the wind, and only then did I catch my breath.

I was about to continue forward when I noticed something underfoot.

Looking down, I found a rectangular pouch, resembling a brocade bag—quite large, though empty inside.

I casually stowed it in my ring, thinking: this must be the reward.

On the way, ghosts were everywhere, but all were weak and lacked spiritual energy. At first, I dispatched them with a single slash; soon, I realized I didn’t even need the blade. It was a good chance to practice my Eight-Rank Fist, but even so, they couldn’t withstand a single blow.

Wandering the playground, I felt unsettled, but it was much better than before. After all, I still hadn’t encountered a ghost with spiritual energy.

Along the way, I collected all the little bags they dropped. Though empty, I found them rather attractive.

These bags were just like the box that held spirit beads yesterday, but unlike the box, the bags were covered in dense runes whose purpose I couldn’t decipher.

Suddenly, I sensed spiritual energy pulsing to my left, moving toward me. Unsure whether it was human or ghost, I pretended to walk onward.

It kept following me, maintaining a distance of over ten meters. The darkness was thick, and visibility poor; I couldn’t see it at all.

I slowed my pace, leading it toward a deserted area—which seemed to suit its intentions.

It suddenly accelerated, launching an attack. I remained indifferent, strolling forward.

When I finally felt the razor edge of its fist, I took a long stride and spun around.

Just as I suspected: another ghost.

But this one was different. He wore sleek black attire, with simple armor, and at his waist hung a long blade and a small pouch.

His face was veiled, his features hidden.

I didn’t know if he could understand, but I said coldly,

“So you’ve finally arrived…”