Gasping for air, he fumbled with his storage pouch, pulling out a handful of elixir vials collected from Kim Simona’s courtyard. His trembling fingers sorted through them, selecting a Spirit Restore Pill and a Health Restore Pill. He swallowed them hastily, their bitter essence coating his throat. Closing his eyes, he summoned the AllFullOS system in his mind, its familiar hum a lifeline. "System, I want to cultivate!" he commanded, desperation lacing his thoughts.
But no matter how fiercely he tried to channel his martial spells or circulate his cultivation technique, the AllFullOS stalled with chimes, its interface flickering with a warning:
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> External attack detected.
> Cultivation session status: TERMINATED
The oppressive sensation of being watched—no, cursed—grew heavier, pressing against his chest like a leaden shroud. Just about Lordi cursing AwfulOS in his mind, a terror far worse than poison seized him.
With a bone-chilling screech, a vengeful wraith materialized from the ceiling of the living room. Its child-sized form was translucent, floating inches above the floor, radiating the overwhelming aura of a Ninth Layer Qi Refinement stage elite. A tar-like, pitch-black miasma oozed from its ghostly body, pulsing with malice.
Lordi’s blood ran cold as Ascertainable fact: the wraith was the same girl from the Hanz Clan Ancestral Shrine, her hollow eye sockets and spectral presence unmistakable.
His nails dug into his palms, heart pounding like a war drum. Lordi instinctively reached for his spiritual energy, channeling the Blood Fiend Blade Art to prepare for a fight or flight. But as he surged his meridians, a searing agony erupted in his joints, forcing a gasp from his lips. The Blade of Life Hater slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor with a hollow CLANK.
His body betrayed him, the poison sapping his strength and sealing his cultivation.
Hair standing on end, pulse thundering, Lordi watched in paralyzed horror as the girl wraith drifted closer, its blind, hollow eyes seeming to stare through him. Then, with an eerie grace, it floated toward a wall and vanished, its form melting into the shadows.
Shock and dread rooted Lordi in place, his mind racing. "Where did she go? Why did she appear here? Why didn’t she attack me?" His realized the wraith’s eyeless face, a chilling thought forming. "She’s blind... does she sense invaders by their cultivation aura? Did the Dominator’s poison suppress my spiritual energy, making me invisible to her?"
Though the girl wraith spared Lordi Payne an immediate assault, the relentless agony gnawing at his body was torture enough. Poison coursed through his veins, each pulse a fiery torment, as if his very blood rebelled against him.
"I can’t stay here," he gasped, his voice trembling in the frigid air. "The ghost being may be blind, but this house... it’s alive with eyes. They’re watching me—tracking my every move. I have to find a way out, a hidden path, a trace of escape."His mind reeled, teetering on the edge of panic as he fought to focus.
With great effort, Lordi staggered to his feet, his limbs heavy as if bound by invisible chains. He turned to the last unexamined drawer in the room, yanking it open with a creak. Inside sat a doll, no larger than his thumb, its delicate form woven from strands of human hair and clad in a tattered cotton dress. The craftsmanship was unnervingly precise, yet the doll exuded an unnatural chill that made his skin prickle.
Lordi’s gaze caught on a series of tiny, embroidered words stitched into the back of the dress: Yunny Hanzwart, Date of Birth: 19th of Hearthfire (September in the Abyss Pit Sect World), 4E 181. A bone nail, sharp and stained with age, pierced through the doll’s chest, pinning it like a grim effigy. Though the doll had no eyes, holding it sent an icy jolt through Lordi’s body, a creeping cold that seemed to slither from the doll into his very bones. He shivered uncontrollably, his breath catching. "Yunny... blind... is this doll her? Is she the girl wraith?"
Despite the overwhelming pain and itch consuming his body, slowing his movements to a sluggish crawl, Lordi’s mind raced with clarity. The house was unveiling its dark secrets, piece by horrific piece.
The diary entry from the 18th of Rain’s Hand mentioned an exorbitant cost to treat Yunny Hanzwart’s eyes, with the mother claiming she was "close to her goal." But now, Lordi realized, that woman hadn’t meant a financial goal.
The diary entry on the 4th of Second Seed confirmed it—Yunny’s refusal to let the diary owner brush her hair had disrupted the plan. The mother wasn’t collecting spirit stones for treatment; she was harvesting Yunny’s hair, weaving it into this grotesque doll.
From the beginning, the mother had no intention of saving Yunny’s eyes—she wanted the blind girl dead.
Gasping, Lordi sank to the floor, his back against the cold wall as he pieced together the fragments of truth. "This family of three... they took over Yunny’s home, her sanctuary, and somehow caused her death. But that alone wouldn’t turn a mortal girl into a wraith radiating Ninth Layer Qi Refinement stage malice. Such deep, festering resentment—it’s impossible unless they did something far worse."
His thoughts drifted to the nail-scratch records he’d found earlier, describing eyeballs lurking in every corner of the house. He recalled the unsettling glimpse of an eyeball in the peephole, its gaze cold and unblinking.
It was no coincidence. The mother’s diary, the daughter’s sketch pad filled with frantic drawings of eyes, and the father’s cryptic records hidden under the bed—they all pointed to a family of three. And Yunny’s blindness, referenced repeatedly, was the key.
"She couldn’t see, but she felt their hatred and malice clearly," Lordi realized, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Every moment of her life, Yunny was scrutinized, despised, mocked by their gazes—contempt and disdain she could sense but never pinpoint. Her own home became a prison, with no corner safe from their vile eyes."
The truth hit him like a thunderbolt. The torment he felt now—the suffocating dread, the sensation of being watched, the inescapable poison—was a mirror of Yunny’s suffering. She had been trapped, helpless, surrounded by a family that loathed her.
The new mother, new father, and Mollie had turned her life into a nightmare, and her death had birthed a vengeful wraith consumed by hatred.
But the mystery deepened. The daughter’s sketch pad, the mother’s diary, the father’s records—they confirmed a family of three. Yet the entire Hanz Clan had been annihilated, silently, without a trace. Yunny’s wraith, blind and raging, must still be searching for her tormentors. Was that why she appeared in the Hanz Clan Ancestral Shrine? Was she hunting the ghost remnants of the family of three that brutally destroyed her? And if so, why did her malice linger, so potent it could twist a mortal soul into a Ninth Layer Qi Refinement wraith?
Lordi’s heart pounded, the doll still clutched in his trembling hand. "She can’t find them," he murmured, the realization chilling him to the core. "Yunny’s trapped in her own hatred, forever searching for the family that killed her."