Bureau of Paranormal Investigation

"Old Yang, give it a rest. Let me have a word with him."Seeing that Lin Feng had lost all capacity to resist, I finally stepped out from behind the puppet. Upon hearing my voice, Lin Feng raised his eyelids and glanced at me. "You too? Here to humiliate me? Two years ago, I should've just—"

He hadn't even finished the sentence when Yang Xiao stomped the copper spike at an angle. I didn't know what technique he used, but the wound pierced by the spike began to emit wisps of black smoke. The agony twisted Lin Feng's body like a bow, his bulging eyes nearly popped from their sockets. His mouth gaped wide, but not a single sound escaped.

Yang Xiao eased up slightly and said coldly, "You're not the Bureau Director anymore. Speak respectfully. And remember—use honorifics."As he said the last word, his foot pressed down again. Lin Feng, who had barely begun to recover, arched up once more from the pain. This time, he couldn't hold it in and gasped hoarsely, "Wh-what… do you… want to ask?"

At that moment, Lin Feng's body began to change—his ashen skin took on a flush of blood, and several of his wounds began to bleed anew. In short, Lin Feng looked more like a living man again.

I didn't dwell on that. I had originally wanted to ask him about what happened two years ago, but a sudden thought struck me, and I changed course:"What happened to Qiu Bulao? How did you make him drink the Demon Acid?"

Now that Lin Feng had regained some vitality, his tolerance for pain had diminished. He curled into a ball and trembled as he replied, "He had a nine-year-old bastard son. I told him—only one of the two Qius could live, and he had to choose. Qiu was a late father; that child meant the world to him. You can guess the rest."

I had suspected something like this, but still asked, "So what happened to Qiu Bulao's son? You let him go?"

Perhaps afraid of Yang Xiao's methods, Lin Feng didn't dare lie. He answered weakly, "I couldn't let him grow up seeking revenge. I rooted him out too."

This was what he called friends who wore the same pair of pants?

Fury surged in me. I shoved Yang Xiao aside and stomped repeatedly on the copper spike in Lin Feng's shoulder. Screams tore from his throat as his complexion vacillated between deathly grey and ghastly white—like he was stuck between life and death itself.

But I had only just awakened from a two-year coma. After a few kicks, I was already panting. Still unable to calm down, I stomped one more time before shouting:"You and Qiu Bulao were supposed to be that close—why was he the first one you chose to kill?!"

Lin Feng's face was streaked with blood and sweat. After another groan, he opened his eyes and said feebly, "It's because we were close. He would've figured out what I was planning. I had no choice."

I was about to kick him again when Yang Xiao stopped me.

He gave me a faint, almost amused look and said, "Calm down. I just remembered something interesting I want to ask Lin Feng."

Instead of pulling me aside, Yang Xiao subtly positioned me behind the puppet. Then he turned to Lin Feng, staring at him silently.

Lin Feng, unable to bear the gaze, broke first. "If you have a question, ask it. So long as you make it quick, I'll be grateful."

Yang Xiao smiled. "What's the rush? You haven't even finished your lines yet." He chuckled darkly and went on, "I'll admit—I underestimated you. If Shen La hadn't mentioned Qiu Bulao just now, I would've really believed you were just unlucky, falling into our hands by mistake."

As Yang Xiao finished that sentence, Lin Feng's face froze. Their eyes locked. Gone was the desperation and hopelessness from earlier; in its place was a gaze cold enough to chill the marrow.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me."As those words left Yang Xiao's mouth, his right hand lashed out—another copper spike flew through the air and embedded itself beside the first, enlarging Lin Feng's shoulder wound to double its original size. This time, the agony contorted Lin Feng's entire face into a demonic grimace. The scream that followed was very real—no acting could have faked that.

I seized the moment to ask, "Old Yang, what do you mean by all this? Are you saying Lin Feng let us catch him on purpose?"

Yang Xiao didn't turn his head. Still watching Lin Feng, he said to me, "Focus—can you still sense the puppets outside?"

The puppets?

The Yin Qi was too dense around the morgue, making it hard to distinguish the puppets' presence. But now that Yang Xiao had reminded me, I realized something was wrong. The auras of the three puppets outside had disappeared. In their place was a new aura—similar, but not quite the same. Without Yang Xiao's warning, I would have mistaken it for one of our own.

I looked back at Yang Xiao, who still wore that unsettling smile."Didn't expect you to be so ruthless," he said. "Using yourself as bait? You gambled we'd come down here, and waited in ambush. Too bad for you—you didn't count on my little toys being part of the deal."

The moment he said those last words, Lin Feng's skin turned ashen again. In a flash, his legs snapped up in a vicious counterattack—aimed squarely at Yang Xiao's abdomen.

Simultaneously, the puppet-like aura from outside the morgue hurtled in our direction.

Inside, just as Lin Feng's heels were about to strike Yang Xiao, the puppet beside me moved for the first time. Like a wooden post springing to life, it seized both of Lin Feng's legs and yanked hard, ripping him off the copper spikes. Chunks of skin and muscle tore from his shoulder as he was pulled free.

Lin Feng didn't even get a chance to resist—his body was swung like a rag doll and slammed into the far wall.

The very instant he hit the air, Yang Xiao's right hand flicked again—another copper spike flew out and nailed Lin Feng's other shoulder, pinning him securely to the wall.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. The moment Lin Feng was nailed to the wall, a shadow burst into the morgue, charging straight toward Yang Xiao. But before it could reach him, the puppet intercepted it from an angle with a full-body tackle.

Bang!The shadow staggered back a few steps, but the puppet was sent flying like a kite with a snapped string, hurtling seven or eight meters before slamming into the wall and collapsing to the ground.

I had already raised my gun the moment the shadow broke in and was aiming right at it. I should've fired before the puppet even made contact—but in the split second before I pulled the trigger, I saw the shadow's face clearly.

Though we hadn't seen each other in two years, I knew him well. He was supposed to be dead as of the day before yesterday—reportedly from drinking Demon Acid that corroded his internal organs.

That shadow was none other than… Qiu Bulao, Director of the Bureau's Second Division.

My mind went blank. My body trembled involuntarily, and the gun nearly slipped from my grasp. What the hell was going on?

Qiu Bulao had no sign of life in him. He was wearing a strange black robe that completely shrouded his body, giving him an eerie appearance. The deathly aura radiating from him was no less intense than Lin Feng's. His eyes were dull like a dead fish, and his movements were stiff. If he had a mask on, he would've been indistinguishable from one of Yang Xiao's puppets.

As I hesitated on whether to shoot, Qiu Bulao had already recovered from the puppet's blow and charged at Yang Xiao again.

Oddly, Yang Xiao didn't show any surprise at seeing Qiu Bulao. As the corpse barreled toward him, Yang Xiao's attention shifted—he turned and launched another copper spike toward the already-impaled Lin Feng on the wall.

Thunk!The copper spike embedded itself directly into Lin Feng's mouth. At that exact moment, Qiu Bulao, mid-charge, suddenly froze in place as if struck by a binding spell. Momentum carried him a step forward before he toppled to the floor like a statue.

Now that the situation was once again under control, Yang Xiao turned to me with a glance and said mockingly, "What were you posing for? You really thought I borrowed the Director's gun just to boost your confidence?"

It was only then that I lowered my weapon, which had still been aimed at Qiu Bulao's head.

Looking at Qiu Bulao lying stiffly on the floor like a wooden effigy, I couldn't shake the unease. "So… Old Qiu really is dead, right?"

Yang Xiao's gaze shifted back to Lin Feng and replied, "Dead? Yes, no doubt about that. But your Director Lin here really did right by his 'friend.' He turned Qiu Bulao into a Blood-Forged Ghost."

He continued, "Remember that time we escorted souls on the ghost train to the Gate of the Dead and met Min Tianyuan's dead son? Same principle. Except Min's son hid inside his father's body and still retained his consciousness. Lin Feng went a step further—he imprisoned Qiu Bulao's soul inside his own corpse. No thoughts, no will. Just a meat puppet—like my own puppets, but with a soul trapped inside."

I asked, "So what now? Can we send Old Qiu to the Gate of the Dead, like Min's son?"

"Not that simple," Yang Xiao said grimly. He glanced at Lin Feng, still pinned to the wall. "Though both are Refined Wraiths, Qiu Bulao's situation is worse. His soul is tethered to Lin Feng. If anything happens to Lin Feng—if he dies—Qiu's soul will be destroyed completely. No rebirth, no reincarnation."

Then Yang Xiao turned toward Lin Feng and sneered, "Director Lin, Qiu Bulao must've been seriously lacking virtue in his past life to end up with a friend like you. Not only did he die for you, but now his soul's tied to your worthless hide. Honestly, if you'd run into Yang Jun today instead of me, maybe your plan would've worked. Yang Jun wouldn't have died, but he'd have taken a heavy hit. Too bad for you—it's me you got. So? Any last words?"

As he finished speaking, Yang Xiao made a grasping motion toward Lin Feng. The copper spike embedded in Lin Feng's mouth suddenly shot back into his hand with a whoosh, followed by a stream of black blood spurting from Lin Feng's lips like a jet.

And yet, the actual blood flow was minimal—just a trickle trailing from his mouth. Despite the horrific injury, Lin Feng didn't seem critically wounded. Just weakened.

Maybe it was due to the trauma to his mouth, but his voice was hoarse and bizarre when he finally spoke. After spitting out a mouthful of blood, he looked up and croaked:"It's already come to this. With Qiu Bulao covering for me, I didn't lose out. Yang Xiao… I was only one step away from putting you in the ground. You know what my plan was? Head back to Kirin Tower, grab that two-year-old little girl. With her in my hands, the Heavenly Principle Diagram would've been yours to fetch for me. And then, a cup of Demon Acid—your choice to drink or not. Too bad that brat Shen La woke up early. Ruined everything. Otherwise, you'd already be one of my Refined Wraiths."

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"Yang Xiao erupted into a maniacal laugh. As it faded, his face turned ice-cold. He gritted his teeth and growled, "Well said."

Without another word, he flung the copper spike at Lin Feng's head with a powerful snap of his wrist. He wasn't holding back—if it hit, it would have blown Lin Feng's skull apart.

But just as the copper spike left his hand, the air temperature in the morgue plunged. White frost formed midair in layers. Clang!A flash of sparks flared in front of Lin Feng. The copper spike had been deflected—something had blocked it and sent it rebounding back toward Yang Xiao.

I tried to pull him aside, but it was too late. I could only watch as the spike spun back and struck him squarely in the chest.

But it didn't make a sound. No blood, no impact. It was as if the spike had fallen into a deep lake—completely absorbed into Yang Xiao's body.

Then… the white frost in front of Lin Feng began to coalesce.

A figure slowly materialized—formed entirely from the frost—standing between Yang Xiao and Lin Feng.