Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

"Just die!"

"That's what I tell blokes who are tired of living, hehe. I mean, if you're tired of living, why are you still alive?"

Stark stared down at the Spirit that was talking at him, a luminescent raccoon held an acorn in its hands as though it was a second heart.

There was another spirit next to it, one that was levitating and nodding at every joke the obnoxious raccoon would crack.

It was round and blue in colour, with bead-like eyes and what looked like a pencil-drawn mouth.

"Death is far sweeter than you think, I mean look at me! I'm living life!"

He bit into the nut he had, his fingers roving around them before he paused.

'Why am I listening to this guy again?'

Two days ago, Stark had found his way to Darrell's mansion, but he had not yet been able to infiltrate it.

He was currently working as a labourer for the next extension Darell was building in his estate.

No doubt the price he got for betraying him. Stark was helping them build a house soaked in his own blood.

"You see that expression on your face, kid? That's the one, the one that shows you are tired of life."

Stark sighed.

"I have better things to do…"

He turned to leave when a gust of wind shot past him, ruffling his hair and revealing his ears. Stark quickly covered his ears with both hands and placed his hair above them.

"Oops, I didn't know you were hiding such a… troublesome past."

"That was you?!" Stark walked closer to the log the raccoon was standing on, his expression murderous.

"Maybe I should just crush you and be done with it…"

The raccoon took a step back, lifting its fingers defensively, its eyes wide in concern.

"Wait, wait, wait, no need to be harsh. I actually have a proposition that might be of interest to you."

Stark was not listening. He grabbed its tiny hands and pulled it towards himself, the raccoon falling over on his stomach.

Then pulled out his black dagger...

The little spirit had been bothering him for days now, Stark was not planning on killing it, he just wanted to scare it a little.

For someone who claimed to love death, the little guy began to panic, while the chubby spirit next to him was floating in circles, clearly agitated.

"You want to get into the estate right? I can help you with that!"

Stark paused.

"How do you know that?"

The spirit shrugged. "Ehh, I always catch you staring, it's like they have your kidneys in there or something."

'Fair enough…' Stark let go of its hand.

"How can you get me in?"

He had tried a couple of ways already but none of them had worked. Darell had purposely tightened his security.

It seemed betraying his best friend had made him realize that someone could as well do the same to him, hence his paranoia.

The little raccoon stood up and dusted its large belly while muttering something underneath its breath.

"What was that?"

"Ahh, nothing…" it sat down and sighed.

"You know in my last life I used to be a knight. A strong powerful knight that could strike fear into the hearts of many!" The raccoon laughed and slapped its knee.

"I was tall too, six foot—"

"Get to the point." Stark interrupted, he needed details, not a long backstory.

"If you say so. I have dirt on one of Darell's men. Dirt that can get you into the estate."

As far as Stark knew, Darell had four important workers in his estate: the chief maid, the captain of the guards, the knight commander and the general manager of affairs.

If he had dirt on any of these four people, it would be immensely helpful, but if it was nobody, then he would have wasted his time.

"Who do you have dirt on? And how potent is this dirt?"

The raccoon smiled smugly and glanced at the round spirit, the little guy jumped up and down.

"The secret is about the general manager of affairs. How potent? This was the dirt that got me killed, of course it's juicy, juicier than an overripe apple in summer."

Stark rose a brow. He said he was a knight before he died, yet his mannerisms were far too similar to that of a raccoon.

Spirits didn't have to retain their original forms when they died, but a raccoon was a bit of a stretch.

He placed his dagger back in his shirt. "So?"

The raccoon watched him blankly. "So… so what?"

"What is the secret you're so proud about?"

"Ohhhhhh, sorry, I can't tell you that."

There was a short moment of silence. Even his chubby spirit companion seemed as confused as Stark. "Hm?" it hummed, its voice delicate and squeaky.

As for Stark…

"This fucker."

"Calm down, before you do anything rash, let me cook."

The raccoon cleared its throat, more for dramatic intent than for actual need.

"I'll tell you all I know but you will have to do something for me first."

Typical of a spirit… they loved contracts far too much.

"What?"

"Two things actually. First, you are a spirit medium, right? Take this guy along with you, he's a natural born spirit and I can't be with him forever." He said, pointing a thumb at the round spirit.

The spirit hummed again and turned to stare at Stark.

Stark considered his words. It was his first request and it was already a difficult one.

Currently, he had five spirits: Jade, the dire wolf, and three goat spirits…

Each one was useful and he was not planning on getting rid of them any time soon.

Noticing his hesitation, the raccoon rubbed the smooth head of the spirit. "This guy is actually great, he can sing… and heal… I think."

"Not a very convincing pitch."

"Tch, well it's either you take him or I walk with my juicy secrets."

The raccoon tried to act disinterested by looking away, but Stark caught him stealing glances at him.

He sighed, his eyes closed as he considered it even further. "Fine! What else?"

The raccoon laughed. "The next one is actually the hard part."

Its voice turned cold and suddenly became serious, a burning emotion nestled in its eyes as it stood up and walked toward Stark.

Then it poked Stark with his finger.

"I need you to fuck someone up for me."