Chapter Twenty-Two: The Demise of the Phantom Spirit (Part Two)

According to Qing, there were nearly three hundred medical staff in this hospital and just over two hundred patients. However, perhaps because night had fallen, there were far fewer people in the hospital than one might expect despite the steady flow of comings and goings.

As the chubby young man, hands clasped behind his back, led five patients—two men and three women—into the elevator, Shi Jun hesitated for a moment before deciding not to follow. He simply waited until the elevator’s indicator finally stopped at “4” before turning to Hu Hai and Moto and saying, “Let’s take the stairs!”

“What for?” Moto was confused. “Why aren’t we following them?”

“Why ask so many questions? You wouldn’t understand even if I explained,” Hu Hai replied, fully understanding Shi Jun’s concerns. Although they were currently invisible, the elevator was far too small; if the three of them barged in and accidentally brushed against someone, the consequences would be hard to handle.

The three of them muttered as they climbed to the fourth floor, only to find the meeting room ablaze with light. Peering in, they saw that aside from the group led by the chubby young man, there were about twenty others in patient gowns, old and young alike. The youngest was a child of about ten, who sat grandly at the chubby man’s side with a large stack of documents and a microphone before him.

The chubby young man sat at the center of the podium, exuding an air of authority.

With a nod from the chubby young man, the child cleared his throat and directed a heavily wrinkled old man in the front row, who looked about sixty, “Little Xu, bring the documents for everyone to see.”

“Alright.” The old man immediately leapt up with surprising agility for his age, his withered right hand, fingers posed delicately, brushing nonexistent bangs from his bald head. He walked “lightly” to the podium, took the documents, and began distributing them one by one, occasionally pursing his lips in a smile at certain people, which sent chills down Shi Jun and his companions’ spines.

“This is absurd,” Hu Hai muttered, his eyes nearly popping out.

Moto couldn’t help but whisper, “What is wrong with these people? I can’t take it.”

Just then, a hand landed on Moto’s shoulder and patted him gently. A low, almost imperceptible voice whispered in his ear, “Well? Having fun?”

“I don’t see anything special,” Moto mumbled without turning his head. “But I do feel like something’s not right.”

The three of them were crouched in the corridor outside the meeting room, peering through the glass. Upon hearing Moto’s cryptic words, Hu Hai quickly hushed him, “Shh! Keep your voice down, don’t let them hear us!”

“Don’t worry, they won’t hear a thing. Heh, did you come to watch my magic tricks? Welcome, welcome!” This time, the voice was ten times louder, enough to carry down the entire corridor—yet strangely, not a soul in the meeting room reacted, as if oblivious.

Now, all three realized something was very wrong and spun around as quickly as they could.

There, leaning against the wall with arms folded, was a tall, slender young man, smiling nonchalantly at them with an air of irreverence.

He looked to be about twenty-five or six, with his hair coiled in an ancient style, tied up with a silk ribbon at the crown. His face was pale and finely featured, reminiscent of a medieval European noble, exuding a sickly charm. Below his head was a swirl of darkness—perhaps black attire, perhaps a shroud of black smoke—making it impossible to see his clothes clearly.

He smiled lazily as he sized them up, his iridescent, almost demonic eyes flickering with excitement and pleasure, like a child about to share the world’s most delightful game with friends.

This sudden figure could see right through their invisibility—clearly the very person they were looking for. Yet his relaxed, amiable demeanor left them bewildered.

Shi Jun observed him calmly, unsure how to respond, and ventured, “So, all these strange happenings at the hospital are your doing, aren’t they?”

“Yes, yes, how do you like it?” The young man nodded, obviously pleased with himself.

“Wait,” Moto said suspiciously, “how can you see us? I used an invisibility spell… Wait! Your spiritual power is very strong, it seems…”

“Oh, I get it! You must be the ghost who escaped from the Underworld’s spirit tablet! Ha! What luck!” Hu Hai chimed in. “Hey, why are you alone? Where are the others?”

A fleeting look of surprise crossed the young man’s face. “Who are you? How do you…” He paused, then smiled. “Hmm, you can see me—are you sent by the Emperor of the Underworld to drag me, Chi Shang, back?”

Their exchange had not been quiet, yet everyone in the meeting room remained oblivious, confirming Shi Jun’s suspicion: this self-proclaimed Chi Shang was indeed the mastermind behind the hospital’s disturbances. Seeing the young man so self-assured and unconcerned, Shi Jun smiled, “Then why don’t you guess why we’re here?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chi Shang sneered, still grinning. “But since you’re here, you might as well entertain me. After all, I’ve been bored for so many years, stuck with a few brothers in the same place—it’s gotten tiresome. Why don’t you give me some ideas, let me see what new amusements there might be?”

“Enough talk, Lao Shi. Let’s just take him down!” Moto, always proud of his magical prowess, felt slighted having this Chi Shang approach unnoticed. Seeing the man so smug, utterly dismissive of the three of them, he could not bear it. With a shout, he whipped out a talisman, traced a couple of quick gestures in the air, and flung it at Chi Shang, shouting, “Seal!”

Seeing Moto act, Hu Hai was not to be outdone. He extended his right forefinger toward Chi Shang’s chest, laughed, and intoned an incantation. A green light suddenly burst from his fingertip, shooting toward their opponent like an arrow.

Chi Shang, still leaning against the wall, was caught completely off guard. Before the smile could even fade from his face, he was ensnared by Moto’s immobilizing spell. Then, Hu Hai’s Soul-Returning Finger pierced his chest, and with a pained cry, a fist-sized hole appeared there.

Moto’s talisman was powerful—not only immobilizing but also restricting spiritual power. However, his technique was unrefined and his movements sluggish; normally, Chi Shang could have easily dodged it. But caught off guard, and not expecting the talisman to contain such pure demonic fire energy, he miscalculated and was temporarily sealed. Hu Hai’s Soul-Returning Finger—though unrefined, being a gift from the Ancestor of the Yellow Springs—was potent enough to leave Chi Shang helpless, his body pierced by the green light, suffering a significant loss.