Chapter 111: Returning to the Coffin

Chapter 111: Returning to the Coffin

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

In the mysterious Yellow Hill Village, long-standing supernatural mysteries had recently been laid bare the settlement was founded by ghosts instead of humans.

As for the company that sent Miles here, it was not to save Frank or delve into its esoteric secrets. Their true agenda was to retrieve a coveted and unique artifact referred to as the ghost coffin. Rumors claimed that this artifact had the astonishing ability to transform mortals into powerful spirits. If harnessed correctly, it promised a means to either control or neutralize supernatural disturbances worldwide.

But Frank, driven by his personal ambitions, had inadvertently sabotaged the mission. His deeds resulted in the entrapment of a spirit within the confines of the coffin. This entrapped soul, burdened by its confinement, perpetually haunted the village and was the authentic origin of its frightful events. Intriguingly, to neutralize the ghostly threat, it wasnt the ghostly being that needed to be dealt with but the human actions that had catalyzed the chaos.

In a scene that sent chills down the spine, Miless new ghost, the shadowy figure devoid of a head, held aloft Franks decapitated head. Shockingly, although Franks pallor was that of a corpse and devoid of blood, life eerily persisted in his eyes. The scenario grew even more perplexing when the shadow, driven by an inscrutable urge, made a frantic attempt to fuse Franks head back onto its body. This was a turn of events that even Miles had not seen coming.

A troubled thought raced through Miless mind: Is the situation spiraling out of control again?

But before he could contemplate further, a sinister transformation overtook the shadow. It became illuminated by countless crimson eyes that radiated malevolence. Under the overpowering gaze of these eyes, the shadow yielded, and Franks head plummeted.

With his head now lying on the ground, Franks voice eerily addressed Miles, Having witnessed the formidable capabilities of the ghost coffin, you must grasp that we have the power to master our inner spirits using it. Entrusting such an artifact to a spirit is a grievous mistake.

Miles shot back, While you may envision yourself as some ghostly overlord with grand ambitions, Im anchored in my human fragility, battling for survival. Your utopian visions cloud your judgment and endanger us all. Why would I ever condone that? Your aspirations make you oblivious to the fragile equilibrium of existence. Pausing to gather himself, his voice tinged with desperation, he added, Enough, the ghost is drawing near.

Without wasting another second, Miles hurriedly positioned the unconscious Stretch alongside Franks severed remains, crafting a defensive arrangement against the imminent ghostly onslaught.

With the creak of the door, an elderly, emaciated farmer stepped in. His attire was simple, worn out from years of toil, and it stood in stark contrast to the lifelessness that hung about him like a shroud.

This elderly figure was recognized by Miles as Genrong, a well-known village elder of Yellow Hill Village. They had first met when Miles had sought local knowledge upon his arrival. However, the Genrong he had met then was a far cry from the almost phantasmal entity before him now. Where there once was warmth and familiarity now lay a chilling void.

The eyes that now stared back at Miles were an unsettling shade of gray, devoid of any hint of life. These eyes seemed to look through Miles and the others, who were trying their best to remain unnoticed in a shadowy alcove of the room. Genrongs sole focus appeared to be the chillingly open coffin, positioned ominously in the rooms center as if silently calling out to claim its next inhabitant.

A heavy, uncomfortable silence spread through the room, punctuated only by the faint, ghostly sound of Genrongs steps. Each step he took towards the coffin caused Miless anxiety to surge, an unease gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Despite preparing himself for unforeseen circumstances, the palpable presence of a restless spirit was an experience Miles found difficult to stomach.

Franks response was heavy with resentment. You wasted an opportunity to liberate the world from this menace.

Miles countered nonchalantly, The world doesnt need us playing heroes. Our first duty is to ensure our own safety.

There was a brief, tense silence before Frank reluctantly admitted, Perhaps youre right.

Smiling triumphantly, Miles said, Of course I am. Ive spent countless hours diving into philosophical insights onlinethose motivational sayings everyone loves. Maybe you should occupy your time surfing the web instead of pretending to be a lifeless body in a coffin.

Despite his situation, Frank managed to retort, If youd just reattach my head, I might give it a shot.

Miles stated firmly, Thats not happening. Youre the main prize from my misadventure in this cursed village. This trip nearly emptied my bank account. I cant just toss you aside, especially considering the two spirits you house. However, finding a buyer for you? Thats worth exploring.

With that, Miles brought out a body bag, causing dread to shine brightly in Franks eyes. Hold on! Are you truly planning to sell me?

Without heeding Franks desperate appeal, Miles carefully placed Franks body into the bag. As a morbid joke, he situated Franks detached head in a compromising position between his legs.

With a glint of greed in his eyes, Miles thought out loud, This unique package could potentially bring in over two hundred million. Someone out there will be interested.

He considered pitching Frank to a major corporation. In a world where interactions with the paranormal werent uncommon, he was confident about finding a willing buyer.

Wait a second. Miless focus was suddenly drawn to Stretch, who was situated a short distance from him, looking vulnerable.

Quickly springing to his feet, Miles made a beeline for his suitcase. His actions suggested he was preparing to empty it, likely to make space for what he deemed another potential collectible.

Aghast at the sudden turn of events, Stretch exclaimed, Miles, you cant seriously be considering selling me too, can you? His voice quivered with panic. Ive always stood by you, never posed a threat.

Miles scrutinized Stretch, taking in every detail. He noted the paleness of Stretchs skin and said in a mocking tone, You seem rather pale, almost ghost-like. Are you nearing your end, about to become the victim of some malevolent force here? Just consider this if you were to perish in this godforsaken place, itd be such a mournful end. However, wouldnt it be somewhat redeeming if I could turn a profit from it? And, as a gesture of goodwill, Id commit to sharing the proceeds with your wife. Fifty percent of the earnings could be life-changing for her. Trust me, Id ensure your family benefits and is treated fairly in the deal.

Stretch swallowed hard, his face awash with conflicting emotions of fear and anger. Summoning his courage, he retorted, Im not ready to give up just yet. I fully intend to live for many more years, determination burning brightly in his gaze.