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During this transformative night, Miles experienced a whirlwind of revelations concerning numerous issues.
If anyone were to question him about his confidence in resolving the eerie supernatural incident plaguing them, he would, in all honesty, confess his doubts. However, when confronted by the group from the oddly-named “Cockroach Club”, he felt an overwhelming need to project unwavering certainty.
He internally debated, “If I don’t fool them into trusting me, then the next course of my plan won’t go as I wish.”
Sure enough, when Miles shared his findings from the phone, Yiming, Page, and Stretch simultaneously directed their focus towards him. Their expressions were not ones of surprise or admiration. On the contrary, they bore looks of skepticism and mistrust.
Page, with a hint of disdain in his voice, remarked, “Your confidence is truly astounding. Do you genuinely believe you can put an end to the eerie happenings in Yellow Hill Village? Just to remind you, we saw two ghost tamers perish within a short span of time just last night. Heck, Sheng and Tian were taken by surprise and couldn’t even contest the attacking spirit. It’s starting to look like you purposely drew us to this village.”
Miles, with measured calmness, replied, “If you truly didn’t trust me, then what brought you back here?”
Page’s irritation was palpable. He retorted sharply, “The village is eerily locked down. We’re trapped! We can come in, but there’s no way out. Do you honestly believe we wouldn’t leave if we could? Did you know of this trap and decided to keep it from us, finding amusement in our desperate situation?”
Feeling cornered and left with no escape route, Page’s anger towards Miles intensified. He firmly believed that should he meet his end in Yellow Hill Village, he would make sure to exact revenge on Miles for the club event.
Yiming, who had been mostly quiet till then, tried to defuse the situation, “Page, calm down. Arguing now serves no purpose. Miles, just tell us, can you truly handle this paranormal situation?”
Gazing with unwavering intensity, Miles responded, “If you all collaborate with me wholeheartedly, I believe we can overcome this. If not, to put it bluntly, it could very well be the end for each of you.”
He then elaborated on his deduction, “When I first met that eerie ghost, I began to suspect the village was isolated from the outside world. Your return only strengthened that theory. I wouldn’t just recklessly leave. Yes, it’s tragic that two ghost tamers met their demise here, but death is often a byproduct in situations imbued with the supernatural. To handle this, we must remain in the village.”
With a biting undertone, Miles added, “Cowering in fear only speeds up one’s fate. You were lucky this time around. Even though you came face-to-face with that spirit, it chose not to harm you. However, your luck may not last. I believe that very ghost is skulking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment. By some strange twist of fate, you’ve sidestepped its deadly intent.”
Hearing this, the faces of Yiming, Page, and Stretch turned ashen, a wave of unease washing over them.
In the thick, palpable tension that enveloped the air, Stretch, with evident anxiety, asked, “When you say ‘sure death condition,’ what are you implying? Have you unearthed some critical clue?”
Miles, furrowing his brows, responded, “I can’t claim to have unraveled any definitive secrets yet.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “What I have is a working theory, still in its infancy. If you all recount in detail the events of last night, I believe I can discern a pattern to this ghost’s actions. Knowing its behavior will greatly enhance our chances of capturing and subduing it.”
Miles added with a sincere, imploring gaze, “This is the crux of my argument for teamwork. With collective efforts, we stand a real shot at tackling this supernatural enigma.”
Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Yiming, with a trace of doubt in his voice, asked, “Can we actually rely on what you’re hypothesizing?”
In response, with a slightly mocking edge, Miles remarked, “Do you have a superior strategy up your sleeve? If you’ve figured out a foolproof way to confront this apparition, please, do enlighten us.”
Yiming chuckled dryly, “I concede I don’t possess the expertise you do in this domain. To clarify, our experience last night was mostly uneventful. Sensing the proximity of the ghost, we three decided to band together, maintaining a vigilant watch throughout. Oddly enough, despite our prolonged alertness, no ghostly assault came our way.”
Miles’s attention intensified, his gaze laser-focused on Yiming’s words.
Before anyone could add further, Stretch, with a mix of surprise and concern, blurted, “Hold on a moment. You mentioned discerning the behavior pattern of ‘one’ ghost. Are we implying there’s more than one ghost haunting this village?”
Miles nodded gravely, “Indeed, that’s my belief. Based on our shared experiences and encounters, I deduce there are at least two distinct ghosts in Yellow Hill Village. Didn’t any of you find the anomalies of last night a tad peculiar?”
He emphasized, “However, debating the ghost count isn’t our primary focus. The pressing matter is the clear danger of being isolated in this village. Even for those adept at taming spirits, solitude could be fatal. Being alone and crossing paths with the ghost might seal your fate.” Latest content publıshed on novel•fire.net
Reiterating the gravity, Miles stated, “The tragic demises of Sheng and Tian stand as grim evidence. Solitary encounters with the ghost might have lethal consequences. Your uneventful vigil might be because you were collectively present, thereby depriving the ghost of its window to attack, or maybe you didn’t meet its specific criteria for a kill.”
Deeply disturbed, Stretch stammered, “So, safety in numbers is our best bet? Venturing alone would be signing our death warrants?”
Page, agitated, snapped, “Your hypothesis sounds far-fetched! If we were to follow your train of thought, wouldn’t everyone in this village be doomed? How do you explain the numerous villagers we’ve seen?”
Miles fixed Page with a steely, unblinking stare, “How can you be so certain that all you see in this village are living humans? I’ve delved into the history of Yellow Hill Village. Disturbing supernatural occurrences started roughly six months ago, with the village becoming increasingly isolated and its inhabitants mysteriously vanishing. In essence, Yellow Hill might now be a desolate ghost town. Our perceived reality here could be gravely skewed.”
“Are you insinuating that every single villager we’ve seen might actually be specters?” A chill ran down Yiming’s spine, and his eyes darted nervously, instinctively assessing their surroundings.
His gaze settled on a group of older villagers. There had to be at least twenty or thirty of them engrossed in their own conversations. The disturbing thought occurred to him: had they unknowingly walked into a trap if they were indeed ghosts? Were they, in a way, walking willingly to their own doom?
Sensing the tension, Miles clarified, “I can’t definitively label them as ghosts, but I’m certain they’re not living, breathing humans.”
Page scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “Your conjectures are absurd. If you’re in doubt, let me bring some clarity.” Without a second thought, he quickly reached for the gun holstered at his side, leveling it at one of the unsuspecting elders.
Reacting with lightning speed, Miles lunged at Page, his hand closing around Page’s throat with a vice-like grip. “If you’re so eager to court death, do it away from here,” he snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. “We’re here on a mission. My investigation is still in its budding stages, and a single trigger-happy move from you could shatter all our efforts. If you even think of acting on impulse here, I swear, I’ll deal with you before you can blink.”
Page, gasping slightly from the pressure on his throat, managed a mocking grin. “What’s with the sudden protective streak? Are these villagers dear to you? If you’re so adamant about preventing me from shooting them, how about taking the bullet yourself? After all, we have some unfinished business from our last encounter at the club.”
Seeing no apparent way out of the village and with survival odds looking bleak, Page felt a surge of recklessness, an urge to lash out at the world that had trapped him.
Miles responded with pure scorn, “Your thought process is as muddled as swamp water. Keeping you around seems more like a liability than anything else. Maybe putting you down would be a kindness, so we won’t be weighed down by your senselessness. The fact that I didn’t finish you off earlier might just have been an oversight on my part.”
As if to underscore his point, mysterious, glowing crimson eyes began to manifest on the back of Miles’s hand and across his face, a chilling indication of his readiness to commit violence.
The point was clear: irrespective of whether these villagers were ghostly or not, they hadn’t shown any hostility. Until a genuine threat emerged, instigating conflict was foolhardy. Should Page’s bullet reveal them as ghosts, they’d be antagonizing an entire village of spirits. And if they were genuine humans, why shatter their tranquil existence?
Unperturbed, Page retorted defiantly, a wild glint in his eyes. “You think you can intimidate me? If we’re truly trapped here, then I’ll spare no holds against you.”
Now surrounded by a menacing red haze, Miles growled, “Give it your best shot.”
Suddenly, Yiming intervened, shouting desperately, “Page, get a grip!”
Stretch, who had been silent till now, seemed to have undergone a subtle transformation. His voice dripping with cold resolve, he warned, “Miles is right. Your impulsive actions will lead us to ruin. The villagers should be left undisturbed. Should it come to blows, know that I’ll stand with Miles against you.”
The gravity of their predicament was evident. In the worst-case scenario, should these villagers turn out to be ghosts, would a gunshot not incite a vengeful wrath from the entire supernatural community?
Pulling the trigger in such a scenario would have been tantamount to signing our own death warrants,” Yiming voiced out, disbelief evident in his tone.
“Why would anyone even consider such a reckless act, to test the authenticity of a villager’s existence? It’s utter madness,” Stretch chimed in, shaking his head.
Facing a three-to-one consensus against him, Page clearly recognized the weight of his rashness.
With a heavy sigh, he admitted, “I’m genuinely sorry. It was a spur-of-the-moment reaction.”
He retreated a step, allowing the gun to slip from his grasp, which thudded dully onto the ground.
Yiming, trying to calm the storm, remarked, “Page, your behavior just now was erratic, almost as if you were on the cusp of being possessed or turning malevolent. You need to ground yourself and think logically.”
Meeting Miles’s stern gaze, Page entreated, “I’ve apologized. Can we move past this now? Please release my neck.”
But Miles’s icy glare held no signs of thawing. “Perhaps it would be simpler if you weren’t around anymore,” he mused darkly, his distrust for Page as palpable as the tension in the air.
Yiming quickly intervened, attempting to mediate the escalating tension. “Miles, I get it. You and Page have a history of disagreements. But our foremost goal right now is to unravel this supernatural enigma. We’re already stretched thin on manpower. Do you really think we can afford to lose another member, especially at this stage?”
Miles, though rigid, seemed to mull over Yiming’s words. After a tense moment, he reluctantly released his grip on Page.
Amid this tension, a voice broke in. “Ah, youngsters and their fiery temperaments.”
All heads turned to find an elderly woman approaching them. She continued, “You might be young and passionate, but you should always exercise restraint. Petty squabbles can escalate to legal troubles or worse. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Rashness is a fiend’?”
Stretch, attempting to defuse the situation, offered a conciliatory smile. “We appreciate your concern, ma’am. It was just a minor disagreement among friends, nothing more.”
The woman’s frail appearance was evident – her skin etched with the deep grooves of time and her aura emanated weariness. Yet, her eyes twinkled with a kind warmth, and her ever-present smile gave off an air of genuine benevolence.
She responded with a nod, “That’s how responsible youngsters should behave,” and continued on her way.
Suddenly, a soft, ragged cough broke the silence.
Whipping their heads around, they pinpointed its origin to the old woman. Page felt a chill snake up his spine, his body momentarily paralyzed with a rush of dread and relief.