Chapter 489: Can't Wait Anymore

The underground river water stank.

The smell of rust, mildew, and rotting household trash from the Sewer mixed and drilled into the nostrils.

Ji Bai cradled the female ghost and walked for a long time through the abandoned pipe network.

Occasionally a vehicle rolled over a manhole cover above, sending a low tremor down.

Deeper, the water struck the pipe walls, splashing with a clatter.

Ji Bai stopped at a fork.

This spot was three underground tributaries away from the abandoned repair shop; even if Liang Wen lowered the thermal imager, it would be hard to track Ji Bai's trail in this chaotic network at once.

Ji Bai leaned against the wall and sat down.

The wound on the shoulder had been grazed by the Black Flame Knife, flesh charred and curled, blood streaming down the arm into the water, quickly washed away by the sewage.

Ji Bai lowered their head and coughed twice.

A mouthful of black blood mixed with saliva was spat onto the concrete steps beside them.

The female ghost curled in the corner, the edge of her ethereal body still trembling.

The ghost didn't dare look at Ji Bai.

She dared not look at her own maimed shoulder.

Ji Bai fished a slender glass bottle from the waterproof bag, unscrewed the stopper, and poured the gray‑green liquid onto the wound.

Sizzle.

The charred flesh was split by the medicine, emitting a foul white mist.

Ji Bai's shoulder and back tensed briefly, then relaxed.

No cry of pain.

Not even a furrowed brow.

Ji Bai tore open the inner lining of the clothing, wrapped the wound, and tied it so quickly it was a bit rough.

The ghost stared at the blood on Ji Bai's hand.

Ji Bai shoved the bottle back.

The ghost lowered her head, half of her face hidden behind wet hair, her sobbing choked tight.

Ji Bai looked at her for two seconds.

"Name."

"Meng Wan."

She paused, then added, "She was called Meng Wan in life."

Ji Bai laid the Old Black Umbrella across his knees; the canopy, soaked with rain, sagged heavy, its edges frayed.

"Have you ever killed an innocent person?"

Meng Wan's fingers clutched the tattered hem of her clothes.

The ghost's ethereal fingertips flickered, passing through the fabric and then barely coalescing again.

"No."

Ji Bai said nothing.

Meng Wan grew more frantic under Ji Bai's stare and hurried to explain.

"Really, I didn't harm anyone. After I completed my revenge, I've been hiding in the old building. I haven't even touched a living person's yang."

She spoke faster, and the cracks on her body began to spread outward again.

Ji Bai pulled an old yellow paper from the bag and pressed it against the broken area of her shoulder.

"Don't get worked up."

The talisman paper was applied, slowing the crack's spread.

Meng Wan stared at him blankly.

After a while, she rasped and finally spoke.

"Actually, I heard a rumor."

Ji Bai lifted their eyes.

Meng Wan's lips trembled violently.

"They say... the higher-ups are now buying high‑level Fierce Ghosts and strange tales in unlimited quantities."

"Not for containment."

Ji Bai's grip on the umbrella handle froze.

In the pipe, the current dragged a trash bag past, it brushed the wall, spun, then slipped into a darker branch.

"Continue."

Meng Wan's throat churned.

"They're planning to send us to the basement of Qiu Ce Yuan."

When the words fell, Ji Bai didn't move.

But the ghost sensed it.

The pressure on her body changed.

It was fine and cold, like someone had cracked open a door deep in the darkness.

Meng Wan recoiled in fear.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"While they were torturing me, they chatted that prices had gone crazy lately, Fierce Ghosts retaining their pre‑death memories were three times the premium because they could amplify resentment; those that were whole and stable could even be bargained for individually."

"That Marquee said that nowadays catching ghosts is more profitable than trafficking; the Federation pays, the Black Market provides channels, catching one makes you rich instantly, it's practically a guaranteed answer."

She said this, and a faint sob squeezed out of her throat.

"I thought back then that they were only selling to a laboratory."

"Later, a drunk hunter let the slip."

"He said that beneath Qiu Ce Yuan there was a monster."

Ji Bai lifted his head.

"What monster?"

Meng Wan hugged her knees, curling herself into a tiny ball.

"A monster that can devour."

"It eats ghosts."

The water sound in the drainage network suddenly seemed far away.

Ji Bai's fingertip pressed against the umbrella handle, leaving a slight dent on its surface.

Meng Wan burst into tears.

It wasn't a wail.

She didn't even dare to let go of the crying, only swallowing the broken whimper back into her belly.

"All the brothers and sisters who were dragged in were literally chewed to pieces by it!!"

"They said some Fierce Ghosts, when sent in, still begged for help."

"There was a child ghost who died at seven, clutching a seal box and shouting for mother; when the box opened, not even a trace of resentment remained inside."

"There was also an old ghost, a watchmaker in life, who after death kept guard over his daughter's old house, never harming anyone; a hunter tricked him out and sold him for two million."

"Later, Ma Kui, while drinking, mimicked the monster's eating motions and laughed until he could hardly breathe."

"He said, 'So fragrant.'"

When the last two words squeezed from Meng Wan's mouth, the whole ghost almost fell apart.

Ji Bai gave her no comfort.

He simply sat there, the bandage on his shoulder soaked through with blood, blue veins rising on the back of his hand.

Qiu Ce Yuan.

Basement.

The monster that eats ghosts.

A few words collided in his mind.

Images once pressed into the cracks of his bones suddenly resurfaced irrationally.

Abandoned chemical plant.

Rainy night.

He lay in the sewage, his leg bones broken into several pieces, the encrypted hard drive left by the reporter's parents trampled into mud.

Those three cunning ones laughed while discussing how to deal with him.

"Broken leg and still crawling—quite inspiring."

"No nonsense, do it cleanly. The Prosperous Origin side is pressing."

"This brat's eyes are irritating; let's dig him out first."

Then, the woman in red walked from the far end of the factory.

Her long hair brushed the water surface, resentment roiling around her, yet when she lifted her hand to touch his forehead, it was light.

"Does it hurt?"

That was, in Ji Bai's memory, the ghost that looked the least like a ghost.

She was terrifyingly ruthless when she killed.

She would drag the members of the Prosperous Origin Group—those cloaked in human skin—into the old building one by one, question their crimes, then let them experience the disaster they themselves caused.

But when she set Ji Bai's bones, she feared his pain.

Resentful thoughts pierced the broken bones, the fragments snapping back into place.

Ji Bai's pain turned his vision black; she placed her hand on his crown, stroking down his damp hair repeatedly.

"Don't be afraid."

"You're still alive."

"As long as you're alive, you can win."

Later, she taught him to use an umbrella, to recognize the signs before a Fierce Ghost loses control, and to distinguish people from ghosts on rooftops late at night.

Hong Jie once said a line.

"We've already died once, so we must act even more like humans."

Ji Bai once nodded very seriously.

But later, the Federation task force arrived.

White seal box, silver chains, three-layer cognitive suppression net.

Hong Jie pushed him into the underground tunnel, then turned back to block everyone.

That day she didn't shout for help.

She merely, through the thickening seal curtain, gave Ji Bai one last look.

"Live on."

Ji Bai kept remembering.

So he built a Ferry Port.

So he housed those Fierce Ghosts who still retained memories of their former lives.

So he endured.

He endured until the Nail broke in his palm, endured to dream each night of the iron gate of the containment facility, still telling himself to wait a little longer.

Wait until there are enough people.

Wait until the route is fully understood.

Wait until the Qiu Ce Yuan's defense shift pattern is uncovered.

Wait until they can bring Hong Jie out, instead of taking a horde of ghosts to deliver food.

But now, Meng Wan told him that a monster beneath the Qiu Ce Yuan is devouring ghosts.

All Fierce Ghosts sent in are chewed to pieces.

What about Hong Jie?

Was Hong Jie shoved into a seal box?

Did she hear the iron gate open?

Did she see that darkness that can swallow souls?

Would she also have shouted his name at the end?

Ji Bai lowered his head.

The wound on his shoulder split open, blood dripping down the bandage.

Snap!

Snap!

It fell onto the cement floor.

Meng Wan was terrified.

"You... don't do that."

Ji Bai gave no reply.

She hurriedly said, "What I say may not be entirely true; hunters get drunk and brag. Those kinds of people might not have a single truthful word in their mouths, so don't act impulsively."

Ji Bai lifted his hand and slowly pressed his left chest.

There was a very old red hairpin there.

Left by Hong Jie.

The hairpin's edge was worn to a pale hue; he had repeatedly wrapped it with transparent tape, wearing it close to his body for many years.

His fingers pressed on the hairpin, pressing the skin until it hurt.

"How long after being sent in will it be eaten?"

Meng Wan was stunned.

"What?"

Ji Bai lifted his face.

That young face bore no expression, only a pair of eyes that had endured countless nights, frighteningly red.

"From containment to being sent into the basement, how long?"

Meng Wan trembled as she recalled.

"Ma Kui said the Qiu Ce Yuan has become urgent lately."

"Living Fierce Ghosts sent to the Black Market transfer point will have a Federation-affiliated transport vehicle arrive within three hours to pick them up. High‑rank Fierce Ghosts are prioritized; those that retain self‑awareness... have the highest priority."

She didn't dare to continue.

Ji Bai leaned against the wall and stood up.

The wound was torn open by the movement, blood gushed out from under the bandage, staining half of his coat red.

He seemed unfazed.

Meng Wan grew anxious.

"Where are you going?"

Meng Wan grabbed his sleeve, her fingers slipping through the fabric before barely holding on.

"Are you planning to go to the Qiu Ce Yuan? Have you gone mad?"

"You're injured; the Federation will definitely trace clues. What is the Qiu Ce Yuan? It's the Federation's core for nurturing the cunning, with external sentries, internal Containment Objects, and that monster."

"If you rush over now, it's a wasted effort!"

Ji Bai halted his steps.

"I've been prepared for a long time."

Meng Wan was stunned.

Ji Bai lowered his head to look at her.

"Although the plan isn't perfect, but..."

"The person I care about is there."

"Wait until the plan is perfect, then go collect the remnants for her?"

Meng Wan couldn't speak.

Ji Bai pulled his sleeve out of her hand.

"I used to tell myself the same thing."

"Wait a little longer."

"Be a bit steadier."

"Don't act impulsively."

"And then?"

The wind in the tunnel blew from the fork, carrying a foul stench and dampness.

Ji Bai gripped the black umbrella tightly, the tip of the canopy pressed to the ground, emitting a harsh scrape.

"What's waiting is a ghost‑hunting bounty decree."

"What's waiting is the Black Market selling ghosts by the pound."

"What's waiting is that Qiu Ce Yuan's underground has raised a monster that eats its own kind."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the last fragment of restraint in his gaze had been crushed.

"Enough."

Meng Wan looked at him, suddenly terrified.

It wasn't fear that Ji Bai would kill her.

It was fear that this youth would truly burn her clean.

In the next instant, the youth, umbrella raised, walked deeper into the tunnel network.

After walking a stretch, in the darkness, the light of the Ferry Port shone ahead.