Miles found himself awake much earlier than usual the following morning. His recent transformation into a ghost tamer had brought a slew of peculiar changes in his body, most noticeable of which was his diminishing need for sleep. Interestingly, he didn’t feel fatigued even with fewer hours spent in slumber.
“Just six hours of sleep?” He wondered aloud, staring at his reflection as he washed his face. His visage wasn’t wearied, instead he radiated a certain cold aloofness, which even seemed unfamiliar to him.
The red paper affixed to the back of his hand caught his attention. It had been a whole night; surprisingly, he hadn’t felt the usual discomfort from the ghost eye’s awakening process. Instead, he had slept peacefully. Still, a thin, barely discernible crack had surfaced on the red paper.
“Does this red paper merely conceal the symptoms without addressing the underlying problem? Or is it just an incomplete fragment?” He thought aloud while rubbing his head, “The resolution to my brush with death is evidently more complicated than anticipated.”
It was clear that with the prevalence of global disasters and supernatural occurrences, every ghost tamer was in the struggle for survival. Believing that he could unravel a solution single-handedly seemed naive.
As for his discovery that the red paper could suppress the vengeful ghost’s reappearance, that was purely coincidental.
“Wait a minute,” he remembered abruptly, reaching for the human skin parchment he had with him.
The parchment held a written line: “I woke up early today, noticing the subtle yet ongoing impact of the ghost eye on my body. My need for sleep is dwindling. If this keeps up, sleep might become unnecessary. I’ve heard that ghosts don’t require sleep, so it could be true.”
“Jing told me that you knew the survival mechanism for a ghost tamer. I don’t believe he lied, so you must have the vital clue,” he mused aloud, his gaze fixed on the parchment. “If you decide to share your knowledge, I might reconsider your worth.”
Perhaps the human skin held secrets it refused to reveal.
What could it be concealing?
Upon reading these words, a flicker of emotions played on Miles’s face.
He had previously suspected the parchment of possessing a consciousness. But after leaving the school, it seemed to have lost its guiding properties.
Without the parchment’s direction within the old man’s ghost domain, he would never have escaped alive.
“If you withhold useful information, you’re no better than a burden. I might as well burn you to avoid carrying around human skin. It’s unsettling,” he muttered to himself. Googlᴇ search noⅴelfire.net
Having finished his morning routine, Miles nonchalantly tossed the enigmatic object onto the gas stove, setting it aflame. Surprisingly though, the parchment remained untouched under the dancing flames. The fire, it seemed, could not mar it.
“Miles, are you trying to burn something? Cooking noodles?” Strong, drawn by the scent of gas, came rushing from his room.
Miles cast a glance at the untouched parchment, a wry smirk playing on his lips, “No, just checking if the stove still works.”
“If you’re thinking of cooking noodles, I’ve got some sausages,” Strong offered.
“It’s okay, I’ve got one too.”
“Perhaps we ought to bury this strange thing where no one can find it,” Miles pondered, furrowing his brows. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving such a bizarre object unattended in the event of his demise.
Just as he was about to conceal the parchment, a fresh line of text materialized: “I’ve extracted all the useful information this parchment can offer. I intend to dispose of it for future safety, ensuring no one else stumbles upon it. But a thought occurs – if I can utilize this parchment to trap a ghost, perhaps I could uncover the answers I seek.”
“Catch a ghost? Sounds like a surefire way to get myself killed,” Miles scoffed, his skepticism evident. Though he didn’t put trust in the parchment’s strange claims, he decided to hang onto it for the time being, planning to bury it someplace discreet in a few days.
Two hours later, the mall’s doors swung open.
Though it was not yet open to the public, Miles and Strong had tasks at hand. Their patrol began at half-past eight.
“Didn’t we shut down the elevator last night? Why is it operational now?” Standing on the escalator, Miles recalled their actions from the previous night.
“Pear has the keys, remember? Look, the mall’s doors are wide open. The boss might return today, so she probably came in early. Why do you worry about these things?” Strong inquired, puzzlement evident on his face.
“No particular reason, just curious,” Miles shrugged.
Unlike other days, the mall was flooded with light today, starkly contrasting with its usual dim state.
After conducting a thorough patrol, Miles found nothing out of the ordinary.
Everything was as it should be.
This, however, left Miles feeling uneasy.
If he couldn’t detect any anomalies, surely that meant the mall wasn’t haunted, right? But then, why were people disappearing?
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about the mall, though he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
Around ten o’clock, the arrival of several luxury cars at the mall’s entrance disrupted the routine.
A group of individuals disembarked, led by a rather short middle-aged man in a suit.
“Be alert. The boss has been in a foul mood since the mall shut down,” Strong whispered a warning.
This man, known as Mr. Calm, was the owner of the mall. He had previously dealt in real estate, but in recent years had pivoted to establish this shopping center.
“Master Catch, welcome to my mall. I’m hoping you can help us uncover what’s gone awry here. There’s been a string of mysterious disappearances lately. Do tread carefully,” said Mr. Calm, his face split into an amicable smile. He was leading a portly man in his fifties, followed by a small entourage of apprentices.
Master Catch abruptly stopped and declared, “We mustn’t enter via the main entrance. Are there any alternative entrances to the mall?”
“Yes, certainly, we have a service entrance,” replied the owner, a touch flustered.
“Then let’s proceed from there,” suggested Master Catch.
Miles, stationed at the entrance, couldn’t help but smirk at the unfolding spectacle. This man was clearly a charlatan, spouting nonsense and bamboozling innocent people.
Everyone else, including customers, had been using the main entrance without issue. Why would this supposed master have a problem with it? Even if ghosts existed, surely he would have encountered them during his patrols.
That’s, of course, unless Master Catch had superior ghost-taming skills.
Yet, a single glance at his gleaming, oily face made it clear that he was nothing of the sort.
“You all stay here and ensure no one else enters. I’ll call if I need you,” Pear instructed hurriedly before leading a group of her female colleagues to welcome the owner.
Master Catch, with Mr. Calm, the mall manager, Pear, and a few others in tow, entered the mall through the side door. He led them on a stroll around the mall, throwing occasional glances around. Then, he gave an enlightened nod, suggesting he had grasped the crux of the strange occurrences in the mall, although it remained unclear exactly what he’d deduced.
Perhaps he had already conjured up a suitable narrative in his mind.
Miles couldn’t be bothered. Despite knowing Master Catch was a fraud, he didn’t see the point in unmasking him.
If no supernatural activities were afoot, the hefty reward would inevitably go to this imposter, not him.
“Hmm?” Suddenly, Miles’s nostrils flared. He detected a faint, rotting smell. “That odor is back, and it seems… closer, because it’s more intense than before.”
He pivoted, surveying the still peaceful mall, but everything seemed in order.