Mysterious Revival

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Driving on the silent highway.

The headlights illuminated the road ahead but couldn’t dispel the gloom before my eyes.

The entire city was eerily quiet, save for the occasional distant screams and the wailing of the Ghost Infant—no other sounds were heard.

The once bustling Dachang City was gradually dying because of the presence of the Ghost Infant.

At least, all along the drive Yang Jian couldn’t feel a trace of vitality.

Death was spreading, and fear was proliferating.

As Yang Jian looked out of the car window, his mood was dismal.

He was still pondering the words Wang Xiaoming had said before.

"He pinned all his hopes on me, tasking me with saving the entire city, but I’ve done everything I could. I’ve imprisoned that fourth-stage Ghost Infant, but what has changed? It’s just a temporary fix at best, and too many have died over these days—Ye Feng, Sun Yi, He Chuan, as well as those ghostmasters I don’t know."

"I’ve used up all my Ghost Candles, risking revival to augment my powers... and when facing the appearance of the Source Ghost, all I could do was run."

Yang Jian gave a self-deprecating chuckle as he drove.

Who’s to blame for this failure of action when he had done all that he could? It was only the harsh reality to blame. Was he really expected to fight to the death to satisfy everyone?

"You, Professor Wang, can afford to be noble, to let go of hatred, to be selfless, and to be indifferent to your own life and death, but what about me? There’s a whole group of people relying on me to survive. If I die, what will become of them?"

But now, everyone was looking at him, with no one understanding him or saying he had done enough.

To think that Yang Jian was only a high school senior, who became a ghostmaster in less than three months and joined the headquarters barely fifteen days ago.

All of this was too heavy for him to bear. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Facing this huge disaster, powerless to avert his fate, all Yang Jian could do was take care of a group of people and try to scrape by.

To fight again and fail would leave him truly with nothing; he couldn’t afford to lose anymore.

"Bang~!"

Suddenly, a loud noise erupted, and a figure eerily appeared on the road from within the mist ahead, causing Yang Jian’s car to jolt as it hit the figure and rolled right over it.

Shaking off his contemplation, he was startled.

Had he hit someone?

He pressed the brake, just about to turn back to check.

But then, from the rear-view mirror, Yang Jian saw the struck person slowly stand up.

That individual’s pupils were hollow, pitch black, their body cyanotic. The head that had been smashed was slumped onto the shoulder, eerily looking at him.

"It’s not a human, it’s a third-stage Ghost Infant. Can these things now brazenly wander the streets at will?" Yang Jian’s expression turned solemn, but he didn’t utter a word.

As long as he stayed silent and the Ghost Infant didn’t hear him, he wouldn’t become a target of attack.

Even though it had seen him, it was useless.

It wasn’t the Source Ghost, nor a first-stage Ghost Infant; just seeing him wouldn’t do much.

Wang Xiaoming’s research and deduction were correct.

Yang Jian hit the gas and continued forward.

In the rear-view mirror, the Ghost Infant stood there, still eerily watching him, until the car gradually moved away and its figure vanished into the mist, finally calming down.

"If it were an ordinary person in that situation, a scream would seal their fate," Yang Jian thought as he glanced at the now-vanished Ghost Infant, releasing a slight breath of relief while also feeling an inexplicable sense of despair. In a city like this, how many regular people, ignorant of the rules, could actually survive?

No one knew.

Right now, he didn’t have it in him to deal with the supernatural events anymore. The failure of his last operation pushed him to the brink of reopening old wounds, and even though he regained control, he wasn’t sure if he could handle the power of the vengeful spirits safely again.

He kept driving.

Discover stories at empire

Though his destination wasn’t the city center this time, he saw many strange things along the way.

There were corpses lying by the road, with their bellies split open and their flesh a blur of gore. Figures moved stiffly in the mist, menacing silhouettes, and puddles of blood with some remains of flesh and viscera.

Occasionally, there was a hopeless cry for help, laced with sobbing.

Yet no one responded, and more terrifying figures wandered through the mist.

This place had truly become a Ghost City.

Those who survived could only wait in despair for their lives to be harvested.

Yang Jian kept driving without a peep, moving forward.

Here, it seemed he was the only living person daring to walk the streets; all along his journey, he hadn’t seen a single survivor.

He knew that under the shadow of fear, the city’s residents had realized the danger. They hid in their homes, curled up somewhere hoarding food and water, trying to survive this Black Night and get through the disaster.

But Yang Jian knew.

It was impossible; even if they had stockpiled plenty of food and water, without resolving the source, they were all on a path to death. The only difference was whether they would die sooner or later.

"Yang Jian, the satellite positioning shows you’ve entered Dachang City. You don’t need to speak; I know you’re in danger. I just wanted to let you know, when it’s convenient, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you. That’s all I have to say. I’m going to turn off the voice now and maintain silence," came Liu Xiaoyu’s voice through the satellite positioned phone.

After she spoke, a rustling sound of static followed as she turned off the voice communication and ended the call.

Yang Jian glanced at the phone beside him and frowned slightly, not paying it much heed.

What’s the point of a conversation at a time like this, an advance eulogy?

Soon.

He braked sharply and stopped the car.

Here was an old residential area in the Southern City District of Dachang City that was supposed to be demolished as part of city planning. However, due to its distance from the city center, the demolition work was delayed.

The dingy, dark, stained seven-story building appeared dirty and disheveled.

Its empty windows, black as night under the cover of the mist, exuded a particular eeriness.

The complex was silent and still, the air permeated with the stench of decay.

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This was the stench of decay emanating from a corpse.

A malevolent ghost had already invaded this place, remaining here for at least three days.

"Is it dead?" Yang Jian took out his phone and sent a text message.

"No." The reply came through.

"Where are you? When will you get here?"

"I’m at the entrance of the residential complex, I’ll be there within ten minutes." Yang Jian typed back.

The text message immediately replied, "That thing is inside the house, be careful."

"..." Yang Jian put down his phone, his face expressionless as he walked towards the old residential complex.

Someone, I don’t know who, once said that most human fears stem from the unknown.

Yang Jian felt this statement was incorrect; human fears should come from death.

Only those who conquer death can overcome fear.

Conquering the unknown can only help you understand fear, it does not solve the fundamental problem.

Although he knew the patterns of Ghost Infants from stages one through four and understood their methods of killing, when he once again found himself in this deathly quiet city, his whole body was still tense. Even now, striding confidently and ostensibly safely through the city.

Walking along, who knows how many ghosts were watching him from under the darkness of the gloom.

Those pairs of empty and dark eerie eyes seemed to be right behind him, engaging him in a gaze as soon as he turned around.

"Building three, fourth floor."

Yang Jian arrived in front of the third building.

Due to a power outage, the stairwell was pitch-black, where one could not see their own fingers in front of them. Even the flashlight on his phone could hardly dispel the gloom a step or two away. Who knew what one might accidentally bump into once inside? If you accidentally touched a Ghost Infant from the Second Stage, that would be hitting the jackpot.

The prize was death.

When was the last time he faced such a dark staircase?

Right, it was during his time at school.

It was when he, along with Zhang Wei, Wang Shanshan, and a group of people, were experiencing the Ghost Door Knocker incident.

"Wait, the Ghost Door Knocker incident?" Yang Jian, who had been moving forward slowly, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

A strange place he had forgotten once again surfaced in his mind.

It was the place the school’s stairwell bathroom led to.

A peculiar space not of this world.

There was nothing there but darkness, with only one tree that seemed to have grown from towering white bones, on which was nailed a three-meter-tall Ghost Shadow. His Ghost Eye ability had come from that place.

"The second condition could perhaps be satisfied." Yang Jian’s eyes flickered as he fell into deep thought.

He thought of a way to imprison the Source Ghost, using the Coffin Nail from that White Bone Tree, which pinned the huge Ghost Shadow.

If the Coffin Nail could hold that shadow, it could also hold the Source Ghost.

The finger was already lost; that Coffin Nail could likely act as a substitute to pin down the Source Ghost.

However, as a consequence, that unknown shadow would be released.

"Why am I thinking of this, confining one terror to release another, which might be even more vicious, potentially making the situation far worse." Yang Jian silently cursed himself for being an idiot.

Yet another thought appeared.

Even if the situation got worse, it couldn’t be worse than it was now, could it?

At the moment, the lives of an entire city’s population hung in the balance.

"Stop thinking, just be a shrinking turtle honestly; the hero thing doesn’t suit me."

He shook his head, casting out these strange thoughts, and continued up the stairs, hugging the wall step by cautious step.

Unable to use the abilities of the Ghost Eye and Ghost Shadow recklessly, Yang Jian opted for caution and carefulness.

Relying on his understanding of the patterns of all Ghost Infants, he wasn’t too worried.

The only thing to be vigilant about was encountering a Fourth Stage Ghost Infant.

But the chances were slim.

The city was vast, and despite being cursed, it would probably take some time before it was his turn.

Counting the floors one by one.

Soon, he reached the fourth floor.

At one residential door, which was already open, the adjacent wall bore several dark, bluish handprints.

The solid iron door was twisted and deformed, as though something had ripped it open by force, sending a chill down one’s spine.

A pungent scent of blood wafted from the dark living room, mixed with a strong odor of decay.

Clearly, a desperate terror had occurred here a few days ago, though it was unknown who had died.

Yang Jian walked in as usual, his expression unchanged.

The ground was somewhat slippery with coagulated blood yet to dry.

Upon illumination, it covered the floor beneath his feet.

Amidst the blood, there were distinct scratch marks.

The marks stretched into a room, as if someone had been dragged in by something, struggling and despairing all the way.

He moved forward.

Yang Jian saw the broken nails of a woman, still painted with purple nail polish, and noticed scattered black hair, stuck with dried blood, turning black and foul.

Just as he was about to move further, his steps abruptly halted.

In the mouth of the darkened doorway, a small, blue-black figure stood. It was biting its finger, innocently, with a pair of hollow black eyes staring at Yang Jian. Several strands of long hair, identical to those on the ground, hung from the corner of its mouth.

"Second Stage Ghost Infant, must not be touched." Yang Jian’s expression shifted slightly, his heart skipping a beat.