Chapter 239: The Trapped Ones

With a creaking sound.

Zhang Jing slowly pushed open the half-closed door, and in that instant, all of them felt a chilling aura surge forth, sending a deep cold into their souls.

"Captain Zhang Xun, are you here?" Qin Bing asked.

The five of them weren't afraid; after all, five experts working together could practically walk unchecked in a world without the supernatural—so long as they didn't draw the attention of national-level forces, even ghosts held no terror for them.

But once they stepped into the room, they found no trace of Zhang Xun at all.

A living man had truly vanished right before everyone's eyes.

They didn't suspect Zhang Xun was dead; instead, they wondered if he had suddenly abandoned them and slipped away on his own.

A Soul Realm expert slipping past their perception and leaving this building was no difficulty—but why would Zhang Xun suddenly depart without reason, with no logical motive?

"That dark red opera costume is unusual."

Suddenly, Li Yi's gaze was drawn to the peculiar garment in the room.

In a modern room, the presence of an ancient-style opera costume was jarring; this wasn't a theater or a costume shop—no ordinary person would buy such clothing, though one couldn't rule out a personal hobby. Still, the odds were slim.

The others also turned toward the dark red opera costume.

Strangely, though there was no wind in the room, the wide sleeves of the costume swayed as if stirred by a breeze, waving at them like a beckoning hand, while a layer of indiscernible darkness clung to the garment, making it feel deeply unnatural.

"Look at the cracks on the floor beside the costume—they're not natural; they were stamped out by someone's foot."

Then Qin Bing pointed to the spiderweb-like fissures: "Only we Evolved Ones could make marks like this here. So these must be Captain Zhang Xun's footprints—meaning he acted at some point."

"If that's true, then why didn't we hear any sound at all during such a violent disturbance just now?" Zhang Jing frowned.

"That's exactly why it's strange—but I believe Captain Zhang Xun's disappearance is tied to this." Qin Bing said.

At that moment, Li Yi felt more strongly than ever that something was deeply wrong with this room. The sensation felt familiar, yet he couldn't recall where he'd felt it before—only a primal instinct urged him to leave, no, to get far away from that old dark red opera costume.

It was the source of his inner unease.

Though none of the others in the room showed signs of distress or spiritual warning, Li Yi chose to trust his instinct.

He immediately turned to leave.

But at that very moment—

Creak!

A cold breeze swept through, and the open door slowly shut itself.

The sound instantly drew everyone's attention.

They turned back and saw the door, now closed, swaying slightly as if moved by wind.

"Something's wrong. There's something in this room that doesn't want us to leave. I felt it earlier—why was there a cold wind blowing in a sealed room? Now it's clear: it's not wind at all, but something unknown inside."

Qin Bing immediately reacted and spoke.

At that instant—

In the darkness, their eyes flared, searching desperately for the hidden presence.

Yet even after scouring the room multiple times, they found no clue.

"Boom!"

Suddenly, a muffled explosion echoed.

Li Yi had unleashed a devastating punch without hesitation—this blow could shatter not just a door, but even a reinforced concrete wall, leaving a gaping hole.

Yet again, something bizarre occurred.

Such immense force struck the fragile door—yet the door didn't budge. Instead, a powerful counterforce rebounded, numbing Li Yi's palm.

"Can't break it?" Li Yi's pupils shrank sharply in shock.

Not just him—everyone else stared wide-eyed, utterly incredulous.

"No way. That punch could kill even a Spirit Sense expert head-on—and yet it couldn't even crack a door? What's going on?" Qin Bing felt his understanding of reality crumbling.

The door wasn't steel-reinforced concrete—it was just an ordinary wooden door. And yet, such force left not a single mark.

"Forget the door—the costume is the problem." Zhang Jing's voice suddenly carried a hint of tension.

The large dark red opera costume, once hanging on the rack, now detached itself as its sleeves swayed, rising into the air. The garment moved like a living thing—they could even see the robe shifting as if two legs were walking, slowly and deliberately approaching them.

"This costume is deeply sinister. I'm a Spirit Sense cultivator—I've seen plenty—but this? I can't make sense of it," Tao Yuan said.

"Who cares what it is? Tear that old costume to shreds—even a ghost will die." Qin Bing spoke, then charged forward. His palm suddenly glowed with light, the glow intensifying until his entire hand was engulfed in flame.

It wasn't fire—it was pure energy condensed, possessing unimaginable destructive power.

Even a cultivator struck by this pure energy flame would suffer grave injury. No one knew how Qin Bing controlled such a flame.

But no one asked—anyone who became a Cross-Borderer carried secrets.

Qin Bing's burning palm struck the old opera costume.

His seemingly light strike could obliterate everything before it—any ghost touched by this energy flame would be instantly incinerated, leaving not even ash.

"It didn't work?"

Yet the old costume remained untouched. At the moment Qin Bing made contact, from within the unyielding shadow of the garment, a cold, bluish-black hand suddenly shot out and seized his wrist.

The attack came without warning, catching Qin Bing completely off guard.

No one expected something to be hidden inside the costume—they'd checked it repeatedly, and found nothing.

A chilling aura spread from his arm up through his entire body, triggering a deep sense of danger. Even though his Spirit Sense gave no warning, he knew: if he didn't break free soon, he'd be in mortal peril.

"Let go!"

Qin Bing roared, summoning a surge of energy flame along his arm to repel the cold hand—but it had no effect.

This energy flame, capable of obliterating ghosts in their world, was useless against this non-living hand.

Realizing this, Qin Bing surged with all his strength, trying to wrench free by brute force.

Still, it was useless.

One after another, bluish-black, grotesque hands emerged from the costume, spreading along Qin Bing's arm at an unimaginable speed—within seconds, he would be fully consumed.

But at that moment—

Li Yi's towering form lunged forward. His vertical pupils glowed as he threw a punch, unleashing a fist aura that smashed directly into Qin Bing's arm.

Crash!

Blood and shattered bone sprayed.

Qin Bing's arm snapped instantly. He seized the chance to retreat rapidly, his eyes flickering with shock and dread.

"Li Yi, what are you doing?" Zhang Jing gasped.

"Losing an arm is better than losing your life. Qin Bing, what do you say?" Li Yi retreated swiftly, putting distance between himself and the old costume.

"You're right. Losing an arm is better than losing your life." Qin Bing's severed arm bled profusely; his face was pale, but he didn't blame Li Yi.

In that situation, severing the arm was the only choice.

"Be careful. This thing is strange. Our usual methods against ghosts are useless here. Even brute force won't work—it looks weak, but once it clings on, you can't escape. I'm starting to suspect Captain Zhang Xun may already be dead, killed by this costume."

Qin Bing spoke as he quickly stemmed his bleeding, voicing a terrifying theory.

If even a Soul Realm expert like Zhang Xun had fallen to this costume, they stood no chance.

"Let's get out of here. Don't fight it." Xu Qiumei had already lost her nerve. She glanced around and dashed toward the room's only window.

She kicked hard with her long, taut leg, aiming to shatter the glass.

But again, something bizarre happened.

Despite her immense strength, the fragile-looking glass didn't budge—just like Li Yi's earlier strike on the door, it had no effect.

"How…?" Xu Qiumei froze.

"What's this joke? Five of us, four Spirit Sense experts—and we can't break a door or a window? I'll try." Zhang Jing refused to believe it. She channeled her technique, her fingertip glowing brilliantly, then tapped the glass.

That blow, capable of destroying a wall, left not even a ripple.

The window remained intact.

"As I thought—pure force, cosmic energy, all useless against the ghosts of this world," Li Yi's face darkened.

His fist aura had failed to move the door—so martial qi was useless too.

Force, cosmic energy, martial qi—all tried. Only soul-based attacks remained.

"Let's all try targeting the window with our spiritual gaze," Li Yi suggested. "Maybe soul-based attacks will work."

"Agreed!"

Without hesitation, in the darkness, their eyes flared with spiritual light.

They didn't attack the strange costume—they focused solely on breaking the window to escape. If even the window couldn't be shattered, despair would be absolute.

As their spiritual gaze activated, the dark room suddenly brightened.

But the glass window remained unbroken.

Clearly, soul-based attacks were useless too.

"Even this doesn't work?" Qin Bing's pale face grew even more ashen.

For a moment, the others fell silent, sensing something deeply wrong.

This world might not be as safe as they'd assumed—it could be extremely dangerous, and all that danger had been hidden beneath a false veneer of prosperity. They hadn't noticed it when they first entered, but now, after actively seeking out supernatural anomalies, they understood.

What now?

At that moment, everyone was at a loss. The room grew suffocating, heavy with despair and terror.

For the large, ancient opera costume was steadily advancing toward them—and from within it, not only did bluish-black hands emerge, but also a pair of bare, dead feet.

As if some long-dormant horror was awakening.

Five people trapped in the room—unable to escape, unable to destroy the costume. Their formidable strength was useless, leaving them as helpless as ordinary mortals, doomed to surrender.

"Are we going to be wiped out on our very first day as Cross-Borderers?" Zhang Jing's slender frame retreated step by step, her fear unmistakable: "What exactly are the ghosts of this world? Why can't any of our methods work? If that's true, then how are there still any living people here? Shouldn't they all have been killed long ago?"