Chapter 112: Dual Souls: The Paranormal Society

Louis looked at Maria. “What’s the name of the other person inside you?”

Maria lowered her head and answered, “Elan.”

Then, ignoring the objections in her mind, Maria laid everything bare.

“She’s my twin sister…”

Of course, she omitted certain details.

After listening, Louis fell into thought.

Someone who once abandoned a twin sister—normally, if you didn’t want the child, you’d abandon them both; there’s no logic in keeping one and discarding the other. Her family didn’t practice any religion, so they weren’t influenced by some strange cult.

Then…

It’s highly likely her twin sister had some deformity or congenital illness.

Louis asked more questions, including extracting details from Madison, who had been lingering behind.

A long-repressed family life…

A twin sister who died in infancy…

Another voice in the mind…

Combined with what Ellis had said about mediumship knowledge…

Louis considered a possibility: what if Maria’s sister died young, her soul never left, but instead attached itself to Maria? But because she lost her physical body and was too young, she couldn’t grow at all. Combined with Maria’s prolonged repression, the soul gradually merged into Maria’s body.

Forming a postnatal dual soul.

That soul was truly Maria’s sister—but in essence, it was another part of her.

A soul-version of dissociative identity.

Thinking of this, Louis’s gaze toward Maria changed. If this were true, then Maria’s soul must possess some uniqueness. Right now it’s merely dissociative identity in the physical world—but who knows what it might become in the future?

She might evolve into some special medium.

Louis was still pondering when Madison, beside him, couldn’t hold back any longer. “Is there something wrong with Maria?”

Louis glanced at Madison. “Nothing serious. She’s been repressed too long—she might lose control and do irrational, violent things.”

“You can simply understand it as dissociative identity—and it may continue to change.”

Dissociative identity?

A mental illness.

Madison opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. Maria had been acting strangely today—like a completely different person. But a mental illness…?

Maria, by contrast, remained calm, as if she’d expected this.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Not afraid. I don’t feel anything bad. She’s done many things I was too scared to do. It’s fine.”

Maria replied thus.

This answer surprised Louis. He studied Maria up and down, recalling her words from yesterday, and asked:

“Would you be interested in coming with me?”

Maria’s face lit up with a smile. “Very much!”

“Good. I’ll help you figure this out. Try to control the other personality inside you—don’t let her easily sway you. Some of her dangerous words are actually your own extreme thoughts. If she misbehaves…”

Louis suddenly smiled.

He pulled out a willow leaf from somewhere and blew gently on it.

The next instant, the willow leaf floated upward.

Aaah!!

Maria stared in astonishment as the leaf brushed past her shoulder. Her head throbbed; inside her mind, the other consciousness seemed to scream.

It looked like it had been frightened.

Maria shook her head sharply, forcing herself to stay awake.

“Let’s go.”

Louis patted her shoulder and walked out.

Maria nodded and hurried after him. Behind them, Madison wore a grimace. If Maria was going, what choice did she have?

Still, if what he said was true—if he’d helped Maria yesterday—maybe he wasn’t that dangerous?

Madison was skeptical but quickened her pace to follow.

Walking ahead, Louis recalled all the talents he’d encountered since he began cultivating, and couldn’t help but marvel at the strangeness of this land.

Deformed dwarves, malformed humans, flesh-eating demons, doll spirits, undead killers, hellish demon kings…

Now came a dual soul.

The gifted ones of the American continent truly outnumbered the fish crossing a river.

Who knew what he’d encounter next?

…

Time slipped by.

It was October. The ice skating competition was in full swing; even people outside campus had heard of it, including several social elites. Many would surely come.

Inside campus, the ice rink was packed daily. Maria and Madison practiced there. Because Maria was no longer the same, Lily’s popularity had plummeted—but she couldn’t do anything about Maria.

All she could do was compete with her at the rink every day.

But none of this concerned Louis. He had already gotten into the car to join the Paranormal Society’s outing.

This outing had two destinations, but due to distance, they chose only the one closer to the city, abandoning the other.

The city location was an abandoned villa, long deserted.

Gilmore gave an enthusiastic speech inside the rented minibus. “This villa was once the residence of a passionate antique collector. Later, he mysteriously died overnight. Rumor says he bought something unclean, which caused his death.”

“After the collector died, his family rented out the villa to earn rent. I fought hard to get this opportunity—someone just vacated yesterday, and I took it.”

“How about we play a spirit communication game here?”

“And search for the rumored artifact that killed the collector.”

Gilmore said this.

All the club members were thrilled, showing not a trace of fear.

Clearly, they were all expert thrill-seekers.

But Gilmore’s backstory had a flaw: if the collector’s family had truly rented out the villa, how could they possibly find the artifact that killed him now?

Louis, sitting at the back, thought this unlikely. He’d rather see how the spirit communication game went.

Spirit communication games were far more interesting.

Especially in the West—where thrill-seeking youths had turned them into elaborate rituals: Bloody Mary, Pen Spirit, Ouija boards, Four Corners, and more.

The Pen Spirit game had clear origins: it came from China’s fuji, later adopted by Japan as Reishi-jutsu.

He’d tried it himself during spare moments—but sadly, no spirit ever came to answer his questions.

As for other spirit games?

He’d never played them.

But maybe this group he was with would succeed? After all, plotlines, in a certain sense, were fate.

This was precisely why Louis had joined the Paranormal Society in the first place.

The minibus pulled over. Before them stood a villa with considerable land area, surrounded by walls and iron railings. Yet a car was parked outside.

“Huh? Wasn’t this rented to me? Who’s this?”

Gilmore frowned and picked up his phone to call.

Louis and the others got out and walked toward the villa, taking the chance to admire its luxury.

This was also a common reason many tenants rented it.

Louis didn’t care about any of that. To him, the villa was nothing special—he could visit Miami anytime to see better.

But…

Observing the villa’s upkeep, Louis narrowed his eyes.

He crouched and patted Mòqiú, who was now four months old. “Come on, Little Coal. See if there’s anything strange about this villa.”

As he spoke, he dripped cow’s eye tears into his own eyes.

A cool, soothing sensation filled his eyes as he looked at the villa.

But in his vision, everything remained unchanged.

Sure enough, no problem.

But then—

“Woof!”

Mòqiú barked toward one direction of the villa, leaning forward, baring his teeth, tail stiff and still—his entire body in attack posture.

???

Louis’s eyes lit up. Had he missed something?

Indeed, Mòqiú was still reliable in these matters.

Without waiting for Gilmore and the others still on the phone, Louis walked straight inside alone.

In a horror film, Louis walking alone now would be doomed—but this was reality. Those with ability had confidence.

Louis entered the villa, but slowed his steps. Ability didn’t mean recklessness. To act carelessly was still death. Steady, cautious progress was the first rule in battling supernatural events.

The hall lights were on. Had someone been here?

Following the light, he saw a corridor.

Louis glanced at the dog and, seeing it had stopped barking, stepped forward.

Following the direction of the lit lights, he soon reached an underground pavilion, where faint voices could still be heard.

He descended the pavilion and entered the basement.

He found only one room lit, with light and voices inside.

“Lady Alma, this box won’t burn.”

“It’s useless. The astrologer bound her soul to this set of Tarot cards, fusing it with a curse forged from a life sacrifice.”

“Physical attacks cannot destroy these Tarot cards. You must target the astrologer’s soul—destroy her soul, and the cards she’s bound to will vanish.”

The elderly woman’s voice explained slowly.

“Now, we must use divination to dissolve her soul. Let me help you—end this curse.”

“Thank you so much, Master Alma!”

Then, the three men and woman in the room, along with the white-haired old woman, began preparing, quickly arranging items on the table and performing the ritual.

Outside the door stood a figure—it was Louis, listening quietly.

He did not rush in.

Without doubt, he had stumbled into another horror scenario.

Though slightly off from the paranormal club members’ plot, the outcome was the same—his choice was right; these reckless youths were valuable.

But Tarot cards?

They were a well-known divination tool in the West.

Originating in medieval Europe, they later became linked with occultism, gaining divinatory functions, and today had become a common card game.

(End of Chapter)