Chapter 73: The Way to Survive

Chapter 73: The Way to Survive

Discovering the roots and pinpointing the puppeteer were mere sideshows. In this crucial moment for Miles, survival took center stage. His immediate concern was to find a method of avoiding a fatal encounter with the reawakening vengeful ghost.

Nevertheless, he didnt press the issue with Writing right away, despite the mounting pressure. It would only be when these individuals comprehended the terrifying capabilities of the ghost tamers that they would give up their resistance and willingly offer the information he required.

A strategy to halt the resurrection of the vengeful ghost? Upon hearing this, Writing was initially startled, then broke out in laughter. There actually exists a technique, passed down from an unidentified land. It was considered a stroke of luck. A ghost tamer, possibly graced by divine fortune, managed to endure for a full year without falling to the reawakening of the vengeful ghost.

A whole year of survival?Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

Miles eyes lit up with sparked curiosity.

A ghost tamers lifespan was tied to the speed of their internal ghosts revival. Even if a tamer refrained from using their ghostly powers, Miles deduced their lifespan would barely cross the half-year mark.

The frequent use of such abilities accelerated the ghosts resurgence, thus curtailing the tamers life. A ghost tamer surviving past a year was nothing short of a miracle.

Whats the specific technique? Miles queried, his eyes locked on Writing.

You wouldnt want to know, Writing responded with a mischievous lilt in his voice. Its a rarity. Perhaps, out of a thousand ghost tamers, only one might achieve this. Its nearly an impractical approach. Your kind is fated for brief lives. After all, youre living on borrowed time, kept alive by the ghost within you.

Whether its feasible or not isnt for you to decide, but for me. Youre down to your last twenty seconds, Miles said, glancing at the timer on his phone.

Youre really desperate to survive, arent you?

A chilling smile stretched across Writings face. Then, let us leave first. Once were safe, Ill be more than happy to share this information.

Youre in no position to negotiate. Ten seconds to go. Miles asserted, You only have two choices: to speak or keep silent. Whether you get to leave is my call.

Boss, spill it. This guys nuts. Hes not playing with a full deck. Just look at the number of people hes slaughtered without batting an eye. Hes probably on the brink of his own revival.

Indeed, theres no sense in antagonizing a madman. Tell him what he wishes to know, and lets make our exit. Were quitting this job.

Before Writing could utter a word, his underlings quickly tried to sway him.

The countdown timer on the coffee table kept their hearts racing. This man was not like Ethan; his ghost was extraordinary.

I dont trust you. Ill only speak when Im out of danger. Thats my term. Otherwise, we all go down together, Writing said, his face contorted with tension. Then to everyones astonishment, he produced a military-grade golden baton.

Miles cast him a glance, Your reach is surprisingly wide, getting hold of such a dangerous item. But do you think it will work against me?

Ill give it some thought, Miles answered pensively.

The technique sounded simple, yet it was immensely perilous in reality.

Which ghost tamer would willingly invite a second ghost into their body?

Should things not pan out as anticipated, if the two ghosts failed to neutralize each other, only one outcome awaited: instant death.

Nonetheless, this method could be perceived as a final resort in the face of impending doom.

Triumph, and youd be on cloud nine; fail, and youd be doomed.

Ive said all there is to say. Am I free to go now? Writing abruptly inquired. Miles glanced at the phone on the table and rose, Im a man of my word. Whats fair is fair. Even though youve disclosed all I wanted to know, by rights, I should let you leave. Regrettably, your time is up.

He gestured towards the countdown timer on the table.

It had struck zero.

So, the three of you may die together. Oh, by the way, are you certain what youre clutching is genuine? Couldnt it just be a Kinder Surprise Egg?

Writings eyes bulged in shock.

He peered at the golden baton in his hand; at some point, it had indeed morphed into a Kinder Surprise Egg.

Miles! In a state of shock and fury, Writing brandished the supposed weapon in his hand, intent on charging and smashing this loathsome man to death.

From start to finish, he had been a mere puppet in this audacious youths game, with escape a mere illusion. The ensuing conversation was a ruse, a tactical charade spun by Miles to extract invaluable information. There was never an inkling of intention to grant them freedom.

Adieu! With a cheerful wave and a glinting smile, Miles bid them goodbye.

The living rooms red light flickered in a subtle yet perceptible shift, and their surroundings underwent a staggering transformation in the blink of an eye.

The bodies had evaporated into thin air including the man grotesquely melded into the wall along the two living henchmen. Even Writing, who had been in the middle of a charge, vanished without a trace, leaving only a solitary golden baton on the plush carpet behind.

The living room was eerily untouched, the remnants of a chaotic scene wiped clean.

There was no physical testament of their existence left behind. Other than a few stray possessions, all traces of them were eradicated as though they had been mere figments of an unrecorded history.