Chapter 490: Man and Ghost, Divergent Paths

Investigation Bureau Headquarters.

3:17 a. m.

Liang Wen carried a sealed silver case into the Top Floor Office, and the entire floor was still lit.

Wei Gong was not sleeping.

The elder sat at the far end of the long table, several reports spread before him, and the water in his teacup had long since gone cold.

Liang Wen set the silver case on the table, shedding the usual flamboyant "Dark-Blooded King Descends to the Mortal World" pose cleanly.

"Director, the blood sample results are in."

Wei Gong lifted his eyes.

Liang Wen opened the silver case.

Inside was a tube of dark‑red blood.

Next to it were three test reports.

"Preliminary age estimate: fifteen to seventeen years old."

"Living cell activity is thirty‑eight to forty‑two times that of a normal adult male."

"Muscle‑fiber density is absurd, bone strength absurd, and neural response absurd as well."

Liang Wen paused, then pushed the bottommost report over.

"The key is here."

Wei Gong picked up the report.

A line of red annotation appeared on the paper.

Unknown high‑level Anomalous Power fusion trace.

Stable.

No contaminant overflow.

No signs of loss of control.

After reading that line, Wei Gong tapped his fingers on the tabletop twice.

"Not an ordinary practitioner of the weird; they have their own training system."

"Right."

Liang Wen leaned back in his chair, his brows and eyes unusually devoid of cynicism.

"When he killed Ma Kui and his group, he did not employ conventional Anomalous fluctuations; thermal imaging showed his body temperature and heartbeat were within human limits."

"Yet he punched through B Ji Anomalous with his bare hands."

"Director, achieving this without Investigation Bureau training is exaggerated and unscientific."

Wei Gong set the report down.

"Which of the Investigation Bureau's matters is scientific?"

Liang Wen choked for half a second.

"Your words, as piercing as they are, are indeed truthful."

Wei Gong did not engage his sarcastic retort.

The elder looked at the tube of blood, his tone pressed low.

"A pure flesh body, fused with high‑level Anomalous Power, yet still rational."

"Such a sample is of great value."

Liang Wen looked up.

"Director, you don't intend to send him to the underground of Qiu Ce Yuan as well, do you?"

The office's fluorescent tubes buzzed.

Wei Gong turned his gaze to Liang Wen.

Those aged eyes did not flare with anger, but the hair on Liang Wen's back stood up.

"Liang Wen."

"Present."

"The Federation now lacks not kindness."

Wei Gong closed the report.

"What it lacks is power that can survive to the end."

Liang Wen fell silent.

Wei Gong continued, "As for Ji Bai, if communication is possible, recruit him."

"If not?"

"Detain."

The elder spat out two words.

"Contain."

Liang Wen pressed his forehead and gave a wry smile.

"Your efficiency— even the tyrant‑CEO wouldn't dare write that."

Wei Gong did not smile.

"He is rescuing a Fierce Ghost."

"The act itself is not a capital crime."

"But he has already killed, and possesses motive to strike Core facilities."

Wei Gong stood up and walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window.

The night in Jiang Hai City was shrouded by rain and mist, and in the distance the barrier wall's light strips formed a dim line.

"What's more troublesome is that behind him there is more than one Fierce Ghost."

Liang Wen picked up another document.

"The slum's network, the old Air‑raid Shelter, and the Black Market's missing Fierce Ghost whereabouts— the three lines line up."

"There is an Underground Shelter."

"What about the scale?"

"Not fewer than ten."

Wei Gong turned around.

"High‑level?"

"At least seven above B Ji."

Liang Wen swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"If we let them go mad together, the outer defenses of Qiu Ce Yuan would have to shed a layer of skin."

Wei Gong's eyelids drooped.

"Then don't wait for them to go mad."

"Notify Jiang Yuan, Su Ming, Qin Zhixia."

Liang Wen stood up.

"What about me?"

Wei Gong looked at him.

"You are in charge of the Project Team."

Liang Wen raised his hand to support an imaginary crown, and his expression suddenly collapsed.

"My dark throne, again overtime?"

Wei Gong lifted his teacup.

"Everyone's overtime pay is doubled."

Liang Wen's eyes lit up for a moment.

"Director, your wisdom is bright; I am willing to burn the Federation's remaining chuunibyou soul… although the ones doing overtime are mainly my subordinates."

Wei Gong ignored him.

When Liang Wen reached the doorway, the elder added.

"Don't underestimate them."

Liang Wen's steps halted.

Wei Gong stared out the window.

"That young man surviving until now doesn't rely solely on his fists."

At the same time.

Air‑raid Shelter, Ferry Port.

A dim yellow bulb swayed overhead.

Old newspapers were pasted on the walls, the floor covered with salvaged planks, and dozens of Fierce Ghosts crowded the spacious hall.

Some were missing half their bodies.

Some clutched broken toys.

Some wore their former school uniforms, with hospital wrist bands still wrapped around their wrists.

They are usually very quiet.

Because the first Regulation of the Ferry Port is that newcomers must not be frightened.

But tonight, the Regulation was crushed beneath resentment.

Ji Bai stood on a height.

Old Black Umbrella was kept at his side, its tip dripping water.

Bandages wrapped his shoulder, blood seeped out, staining half the sleeve red.

Sister stood at the foot of the steps, her complexion grim.

"Ji Bai, you need to explain clearly."

"What exactly is happening underground at Qiu Ce Yuan?"

Ji Bai lifted his head.

The hall fell silent.

Meng Wan stood in the corner, Su Xiaoya supporting her.

Ji Bai spoke.

"The ghost‑hunting bounty decree is not for sheltering."

"Captured Fierce Ghosts are taken to the underground of Qiu Ce Yuan."

"There is a monster there with a devouring ability."

"It is eating ghosts."

The last four words landed.

Resentment inside the hall surged together.

Two bulbs cracked with a 'pop'.

A one‑armed old ghost shuffled half a step forward, a hoarse question squeezing out of its throat.

"Eat… ghosts?"

Ji Bai looked at him.

"Right."

Another little girl in a Patient Gown clutched a cloth doll tightly in her arms.

"What about Xiao Bei Gege? He was taken last month; he said he never harmed anyone, he just wanted to go home to see his mother."

No one answered her.

A Jie closed her eyes.

Her hair tips began to float, and the wall surface was scratched with fine marks by lingering resentment.

"The Federation says that Fierce Ghosts who retain memories are more dangerous."

"So it's dangerous enough that they have to be fed."

In the cavern hall, a Fierce Ghost began to sob softly.

Another Fierce Ghost was laughing.

That kind of laugh was not human.

Ji Bai gave no counsel.

He took the red hairpin from his embrace and placed it in his palm.

"Hong Jie is locked in the Qiu Ce Yuan top‑secret containment facility."

Those words made every Fierce Ghost look at him.

There were many ghosts in the Ferry Port, all of whom had heard the name Hong Jie.

The red‑clad Fierce Ghost who once led Ji Bai out of the ruined factory.

The one who told them that having died once, they should not forget how to be human.

Ji Bai slipped the hairpin back to his chest.

"Earlier I said, wait until we're ready."

"Wait for route confirmation, wait for defensive gaps, wait for an evacuation route."

He lifted his gaze, his eyes frighteningly red at the bottom.

"Now I've changed my mind."

"We're going tonight."

A Jie stepped forward.

"Are you crazy? That place isn't a Black Market base; the perimeter has military watchposts, underground there are containment arrays, and there's also the Investigation Bureau Core Captain."

Ji Bai looked at her.

"I'm going."

"Not you all going."

As soon as those words fell, a one‑legged male ghost patted his wheelchair and stood up.

"Nonsense."

He had been a taxi driver in life; after death, his lingering resentment clung to the crash site for three years, and later Ji Bai brought him back to the Ferry Port.

"You saved me, saved us."

"Now you say you'll go deliver? You treat us like background props?"

Another female ghost with a face full of burns floated forward.

"When I died, the fire exit was locked by the boss."

"Alive, no one looked after me."

"Dead, someone put a bounty on me."

"Ji Bai, count me in for tonight."

The little girl clutched the cloth doll and raised her hand timidly.

"I'll go too."

A Jie turned her head to look at her.

"Xiao Li, you stay behind."

The little girl pursed her lips.

"I can cry; my crying can interfere with electronic devices."

A few suppressed laughs came from the corner.

The tense atmosphere was torn open by her into a small opening.

But no one was truly relaxed.

Ji Bai stood on a height, looking at these ghosts missing arms and legs, without even a complete tomb.

They are not an army.

No uniforms.

No slogans.

And no chance of victory.

Yet each of them lifted their heads, and the resentment tangled in the cavern hall into a heavy black curtain.

"Ferryman."

A Jie whispered, "You lead the way."

Ji Bai was silent for two seconds.

"The souls will scatter."

"They scattered long ago."

The one-armed old ghost split open the hole's mouth.

"We just haven't dissipated cleanly."

Ji Bai gripped the black umbrella tightly.

"Good."

He turned around and pressed the old switch on the wall.

At the end of the cavern hall, the rusted iron door opened.

Beyond the door lies a passage leading deeper underground into Jiang Hai City.

"Target: Qiu Ce Yuan's third secret passage."

"Save people."

"Save ghosts."

"Kill the hunters blocking the way."

"Avoid the Investigation Bureau personnel if possible."

Someone asked, "What if we can't avoid them?"

Ji Bai opened the old black umbrella.

The umbrella's canopy was tattered, but its ribs remained straight.

"Then let them remember—ghosts will also resist."

Qiu Ce Yuan

Infirmary

Rainwater slid down the window glass.

Chu Che sat at the table's edge, trimming a withered potted plant.

That plant should have died long ago.

Its leaves were yellowed, its roots rotted, and a few tiny worms writhed in the soil.

Chu Che held a pair of silver scissors, his movements steady.

He cut off the dead branches.

Then he cut off the branches that still looked salvageable.

Finally, only a bare trunk remained.

He admired it for a few seconds, then softly said, "Sometimes, preserving the lesion is a disrespect to the whole."

The monitor on the table was not turned on.

Yet, in his senses, the entire Jiang Hai City unfolded into countless fragmented images.

The dampness deep within the drainage pipe.

The resentment rising within the air-raid shelter.

The mobilization of the Investigation Bureau's motorcade.

Liang Wen's exaggerated, embarrassing pre-battle gesture.

Also, the young beast being fed and raised in the underground of Qiu Ce Yuan.

Chu Che closed his eyes.

After a moment, he opened them.

Nonhuman golden patterns surfaced in his pupils.

He placed the scissors back on the tray, and his lips slowly curved upward.

"What an entertaining interlude."

Footsteps came from outside the door.

The on-duty nurse knocked on the door.

"Dr. Chu, the underground test chamber requests medical standby—Lu Yu's vital signs are again exceeding limits."

Chu Che put his glasses back on.

Those golden pupils were concealed behind the lenses.

His tone was so gentle that there was nothing to fault.

"Thanks for letting them know; I'll be there in five minutes."

The nurse left.

Chu Che lifted the pot, now containing only the stripped plant's trunk, and placed it on the windowsill.

"Don't rush."

"True growth always comes with some pain."

Deep underground top-secret test chamber.

Lu Yu sat on the metal chair, his wrists and ankles locked by restraint rings.

The inner wall of the chamber had three layers of protective plates.

The overhead mechanical arm had just withdrawn the empty seal box.

The ground still bore the gray powder left after the resentment had been gnawed away.

Lu Yu lowered his head, the collar of his school uniform soaked through with sweat.

His stomach wasn't full.

It was a bloating as if about to burst.

The glutton churned deep in his chest, emitting a low growl only he could hear.

Hungry.

More.

Give me.

Lu Yu closed his eyes and pressed that agitation back.

"Shut up."

The on‑duty researcher, looking through the glass, saw his lips move and quickly recorded it.

"Target exhibits self‑talk behavior."

"Energy level is still rising."

"Pollution index has not exceeded the threshold."

Another researcher wiped sweat.

"Is this thing really something humans can raise?"

Su Ming beside him coldly glanced over.

The researcher fell silent.

Lu Yu looked up, gazing at the one‑way glass.

He could not see Su Ming.

But he could guess who was standing there.

Just as he was about to speak, the taotie in his chest suddenly lifted its head.

It was not aimed at the Containment Object.

It was not aimed at the underground warehouse.

It was farther away.

Nightfall completely pressed down on Jiang Hai City.

The curfew broadcast echoed through the districts.

Blockade Lines were drawn at every intersection, armored vehicles parked around Qiu Ce Yuan, and searchlights cut through the rain curtain.

Outside Secret Passage No. 3 lay an abandoned drainage station.

A steel gate was set into the cement wall.

There was no sign on the gate.

Only three locks, six laser arrays, and twelve sentries.

The rain fell harder.

The sentry captain raised his hand to check the watch.

It was 3:59 a. m.

On the thermal‑imaging screen, a red humanoid appeared at the Exit of the forward pipe.

Captain squinted.

In the rain curtain.

An Old Black Umbrella slowly emerged.

The boy under the umbrella wore a black waterproof coat, and the bandages on his shoulders were soaked with rain and blood.

Ji Bai walked to the steel gate and stopped.

Behind him, dozens of thick black resentful auras crawled out of the pipe network.

One‑armed old ghost.

Burned female ghost.

A little girl holding a cloth doll.

Meng Wan.

Su Xiaoya.

big sister.

They stood in the rain, their broken bodies patched by resentment, and were torn by reality into cracks.