Nora did exactly what she was told. She walked up to the man—Ray Mercer—who towered over her by a full head.

  She swallowed, forced the words out, and did her best to sound polite.

  “Sorry, but… p-please get lost.”

  Ray blinked, then smiled like he’d heard something cute.

  “Pretty face, nasty mouth,” he said. “Fine. I’ll teach you some manners on behalf of your elders.”

  He lifted his hand.

  And then—

  A red blade-flash cut the air.

  SHK.

  Blood beads drifted past Nora’s vision like bright dots.

  Ray staggered back two steps, looked down, and froze.

  His cloth shirt had been sliced open. A deep, brutal cut carved across his chest.

  “What…?”

  His mind refused to accept it.

  I train the Vajra Body. My flesh can tank bullets… How the hell did I get cut that easily?

  He raised his eyes, narrowing them at the young man behind Nora.

  Ethan Parker.

  This kid wasn’t just strong—he was dangerous. And he didn’t hesitate. That was the part that tightened Ray’s gut.

  Since when did Unit 749 produce investigators who cut first and explained never?

  Ethan casually flicked the blood-blade.

  A thin red line splashed across the ground.

  “Listen up,” Ethan said, voice calm, eyes cold. “You—and the Taoist peeking from the shadows.”

  “If you cross my line…”

  He smiled, just a little.

  “…I don’t mind putting you in the ground.”

  Ray’s expression shifted. Not anger—caution. Real caution.

  And somewhere behind them, hidden at a distance, Daoist Rowan went stiff like he’d been punched.

  Ray didn’t argue.

  “Understood,” he said flatly, and turned to leave.

  Ethan dismissed the blood-blade and gave Nora a quick grin.

  “Not bad,” he said. “You nailed the delivery.”

  Nora’s face lit up. “Th-thank you, Captain!”

  Ray had barely retreated when Rowan slipped out and intercepted him.

  “Friend,” Rowan said quietly, “they’re a two-person team. Why don’t we partner up too? Stay nearby. See if we can profit when they do all the work.”

  Ray thought for a beat.

  “Fine.”

  …

  Midnight.

  Ethan checked the time.

  “Move.”

  He kicked the front gate.

  BANG—!

  Dust billowed into the air.

  Nora hovered behind him, clutching her bag. “Captain… do we still need the black dog blood?”

  “Follow me,” Ethan said. “Less talking.”

  The courtyard shadows looked deeper under moonlight. The stone path seemed damp, almost mossy. A dead, twisted tree stood alone in the corner. Wind slid through the yard, carrying a cold edge that made it feel like something invisible brushed past their shoulders.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Nora shrank into herself. “C-Captain… can I hold your sleeve?”

  “No.”

  Nora: :(

  Inside the main hall, Ethan searched methodically. Somewhere in the dark, something whispered and scratched—soft, deliberate sounds.

  “Nothing on the first floor,” he said. “Second floor.”

  They climbed.

  Halfway down the upstairs corridor, Ethan stopped dead.

  Nora didn’t notice fast enough and bumped right into his back.

  “S-sorry!”

  Ethan didn’t even look at her. “Phone out. Take pictures.”

  Nora blinked—then saw what he’d seen.

  Two bodies in the hall.

  The missing security officers.

  Her hands shook as she took photos for the report.

  After that, they pushed deeper.

  Ethan frowned.

  Too quiet.

  If there was something here, it was cautious as hell—or it was waiting for the right moment.

  Time to force it.

  “Nora,” he said, “go check the room at the end of the hall.”

  She went pale. “W-wait. Alone?”

  “Follow instructions.”

  Nora swallowed hard. She was terrified, but she moved anyway, eyes wet, shoulders tight, walking like every step might trigger a jump scare.

  Ethan let her go on purpose.

  He wanted bait.

  He opened a different door.

  Creeeak.

  Moonlight spilled in, catching dust motes floating like smoke.

  A bedroom.

  His gaze landed on a nightstand. A dusty photo frame sat there. Inside it, a man and a woman smiled at the camera.

  Ethan picked it up—

  And then—

  CRASH!

  A corpse dropped from the ceiling upside down.

  A torn, dead face slammed into his space, inches from his own.

  Even Ethan’s nerves twitched. He took an involuntary step back.

  Then two more bodies dropped behind him.

  Three total.

  The missing male college students.

  Their mouths exhaled black, oily yin-qi. The smoke swirled together, thickening in the air until it formed a gray-white spirit—

  A female ghost, hair hanging wild, face twisted with hate.

  “You stupid bastard,” she hissed. “You came here to die!”

  “Any man who steps inside this house—I'll kill. Every. Single. One.”

  Ethan blinked once.

  So she went for him first—not Nora.

  She hates men.

  That thought didn’t slow his hands at all.

  Blood became a blade.

  He swung.

  The ghost took the hit and screamed—sharp, piercing, wrong. Her form dimmed instantly, as if the cut had drained color from her.

  “Bitch—!” she shrieked, retreating through the doorway and into the hall.

  Straight into Nora.

  “GHOST—!!!”

  Nora shrieked like her soul left her body and threw the black dog blood on pure instinct.

  The ghost screamed again.

  White vapor rose off her, sizzling—she was actually getting hurt.

  Ethan almost laughed.

  It worked. She wasn’t kidding.

  He lunged forward and finished it.

  One clean strike.

  No drama.

  The spirit dispersed like ash in wind.

  [“Hunting Thirst” triggered. Blood Strength permanently +1%.]

  Ethan grabbed Nora’s arm and pulled her up. “You good?”

  Nora clung to him like the floor was lava. “I-I’m fine… Is it over?”

  Then she looked up hopefully, eyes wide. “Captain, my black dog blood helped, right?!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ethan said, half amused.

  “But—Captain… why didn’t we contain her? If we brought her back to 749, wouldn’t there be a bonus?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I don’t do containment. We’re done here.”

  They headed downstairs.

  And the moment they stepped into the courtyard—

  Two figures were waiting.

  Rowan.

  Ray.

  Rowan smiled like he’d been invited.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  Ethan’s voice went flat. “You forget the line I drew earlier?”

  Ray replied with absolute seriousness, “We climbed the wall.”

  Ethan stared at him like he couldn’t believe human beings were real.

  Rowan’s tone sharpened. “Hand over the ghost. Otherwise…” he let the threat hang, “don’t blame us for teaming up against Unit 749.”

  Nora, hands still shaking, forced herself to speak up. “The captain killed her. There’s nothing to hand over!”

  “What?!” Rowan snapped.

  “You killed her?!” Ray’s eyes widened.

  Rowan looked like someone had punched him in the throat.

  “N-no—why would you kill her?!” he burst out. “Unit 749 prioritizes containment!”

  Ethan smiled.

  “I kill what I want,” he said. “That ghost, or you two—same difference.”

  Ray didn’t rage. He just closed his eyes and lifted a hand.

  “Amitābha…” he murmured. “May she rest—”

  And then—absurdly—tears slid down his face.

  Nora froze. “Why is he… crying?”

  Even Rowan looked confused. Like: Bro, we were supposed to be villains together. What is this?

  Ethan held up the photo frame he’d taken from the bedroom.

  “Because that ghost was his wife.”

  The photo showed a man and a woman.

  The woman was the ghost.

  The man was Ray.

  Ethan’s voice stayed calm as he laid it out—like he was explaining a case file.

  “Most people only become ghosts when they die with a lot of hatred and regret. Four students explored this house—three guys and one girl—and only the girl made it out.”

  “The two missing officers?” Ethan continued. “Also men.”

  “And just now—the ghost came after me first, not Nora.”

  He looked at Ray.

  “That tells me she despises men. Why?”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

  “Because you killed her.”

  Ray didn’t deny it.

  For a moment, the courtyard was silent except for the wind.

  Then Ray inhaled slowly and spoke, voice cold.

  “After I married her, I had something to lose. My cultivation stalled. A lay disciple’s path is impure—too many attachments.”

  His eyes hardened. “If I wanted to return to the temple, I needed to sever worldly ties. Completely.”

  He stepped forward half a pace.

  “When I heard this place was haunted—our old home—I knew it might be her resentment lingering. I came here to end it with my own hands.”

  Rowan couldn’t help himself. “For a breakthrough you murdered your wife? You’re a damn animal.”

  Ethan laughed—one short, sharp sound.

  “And you’re different?” he said. “You knew there was a ghost here and let her keep killing people so she’d grow stronger—so you could harvest her later.”

  Rowan’s eyes went wide. “H-how do you know that?!”

  Ethan’s blood slid down his hand, forming into a long crimson blade.

  “Your shrine’s ‘ten miles away,’ meaning you’ve been watching this place for a while,” Ethan said. “You knew spirits peak after midnight. And when you heard I killed her, you freaked out like I’d ruined your meal.”

  His smile turned mean.

  “So yeah.”

  Blood-blade fully formed.

  “If you’re both animals…”

  He raised the blade slightly.

  “…then I’ll butcher you both.”