The Ghost King

Upon entering the psychiatric hospital, the air was thick with a damp, musty odor.

Chilling.

The floor was covered in an indistinguishable layer of dust and filth, the pale moonlight casting a dark crimson hue over it.

Ye Chuan observed his surroundings calmly, sweeping his flashlight beam across the walls—mold sprawled everywhere, ivy crept along the surfaces, and the peeling paint revealed large patches of the building’s original structure.

Many walls bore eerie brown handprints, smeared directly onto the surface, sending shivers down one’s spine.

Ye Chuan pondered.

He began to think.

If this place were turned into a haunted house, how much money could it make?

Absolutely authentic! Absolutely terrifying!

Lan Xiaoke peeked out from behind Ye Chuan, trembling despite being a ghost herself. After her death, she had merely become a bound spirit haunting the school building, never encountering other ghosts.

She had been afraid of ghosts while alive—how could death suddenly make her fearless?

Wang Yanran walked beside Ye Chuan, a compass in her hand guiding them toward the Ghost King.

Just then, Ye Chuan suddenly spoke, "Stop."

Wang Yanran paused, startled. "What’s wrong, Senior?"

"Something’s coming. Several somethings," Ye Chuan said.

"Several…?" Wang Yanran glanced at her compass, about to say it showed nothing—but the next second, the needle spun wildly like a madman.

Wang Yanran: "?!"

Ye Chuan had sensed the anomaly before the compass?!

Naturally, Ye Chuan had detected it through his divine sense. Though his current cultivation limited its range, it was enough for scouting.

A rustling sound grew louder, and soon, seven or eight small ghosts appeared before them, dressed in blue-and-white hospital gowns, swaying like zombies while muttering incoherently, "Ah…"

"Eh?" Lan Xiaoke immediately piped up. "Ye Chuan, ghosts!"

"Don’t overreact." Ye Chuan watched as the specters drew closer. With a casual motion, his peachwood sword—specially effective against spirits—materialized in his hand.

[Thunder·Peachwood Sword]

Channeling his spiritual energy, Ye Chuan swung once. A crescent-shaped wave of energy sliced through the ghosts like reaping wheat, cutting them all in half.

The small ghosts wailed as they dissipated, leaving behind only blue specks of essence—spirit fragments.

"So strong…" Wang Yanran thought to herself, awestruck. Dealing with that many wandering spirits would have been difficult for her, yet Ye Chuan had obliterated them in a single strike. Just how powerful was he?

No wonder her grandfather had insisted she build a good relationship with him.

Ye Chuan took two more steps forward when the pendant around his neck glowed purple, absorbing all the spirit fragments.

"Hm?" He glanced at the pendant, realizing it was Lilith’s doing. "You refuse to form a contract with me, yet you sneakily devour these spirit fragments?"

"These soul energies are nourishment for me," Lilith’s voice echoed in his mind. "Help me restore my fragmented soul, and I’ll consider signing that strange contract of yours."

"Not a bad deal." Ye Chuan rubbed his chin. After all, Lilith was an S-tier tenant—once she moved in, the rewards would be substantial.

But restoring a fragmented soul… Did that mean he’d have to spend his days hunting ghosts with Wang Yanran?

"Those spirit fragments…" Wang Yanran had noticed them being absorbed by Ye Chuan. She hesitated but ultimately said nothing.

"What about them?" Ye Chuan asked, catching her expression.

Wang Yanran explained, "They’re useful to me—they can enhance my cultivation."

"I see." Ye Chuan nodded but, remembering Lilith’s needs, added, "I need them too, for now."

Wang Yanran clearly had no objections and simply agreed.

After clearing out the low-level ghosts, Ye Chuan felt the air grow fresher, the oppressive chill lifting slightly.

When they reached the end of the hallway, Wang Yanran checked her compass, her expression turning grave.

"Senior, it’s inside—the Ghost King."

The wandering spirits earlier had been mere weaklings. The real challenge lay ahead.

"Such dense ghostly energy…" Wang Yanran swallowed hard, watching the crimson mist seeping through the door cracks.

Ghostly energy?

To Ye Chuan, it was just ordinary spiritual energy—albeit with a yin attribute.

But it didn’t affect him in the slightest.

"This mission—I just need to subdue the Ghost King inside, right?" Ye Chuan confirmed.

"Yes. Capturing it would be ideal… but eliminating it is fine too."

Hearing that, Ye Chuan felt relieved.

He was a little worried he might obliterate it in one hit.

After a brief preparation, Ye Chuan kicked the door open.

With a loud crash, the rotting door flew inward. The moment Ye Chuan stepped inside, a pungent metallic stench of blood assaulted his senses.

A figure hung from the wall, disheveled hair obscuring its face, its blood-soaked hospital gown dripping.

The moment Ye Chuan and Wang Yanran entered, its cold, lifeless eyes locked onto them.

"That’s it!" Wang Yanran gasped, slapping several talismans onto the walls. But when she got a clear look at the Ghost King, her face paled.

"W-Wang Li?!"

Wang Li?

Ye Chuan studied the Ghost King and realized its features did seem familiar. Despite the tangled hair, it was unmistakably Wang Li—the same uncle who had choked Wang Yanran last time.

"Heh. Wang Li?" The Ghost King grinned. "This fool barged into my territory, so I devoured him."

"Kehahahahaha! I still remember his screams. What an idiot."

"Kehahaha."

"Kehahaha." Ye Chuan echoed the laugh.

Ghost King: ?

Are you mentally ill?

"Senior, it—it’s not just a fourth-tier!" Wang Yanran suddenly realized, her voice shaking. "It’s quasi-fifth-tier!"

"After devouring that fool, I’ve touched the threshold of the fifth tier. Kehahaha! You’ll stay here forever!"

With that, the hanging Ghost King stretched its neck unnaturally, then lunged at Ye Chuan and Wang Yanran like a grotesque monstrosity!

The next moment—BOOM!

A shrill shriek pierced the air as the Ghost King was sent flying, half its body disintegrating into drifting particles.

"Oh? You dodged?" Ye Chuan retracted his hand, mildly surprised.

"To withstand my Supreme Basic Attack… You’ve got potential."

The Ghost King stared blankly at Ye Chuan, its ghastly face frozen in disbelief.

Wait… this wasn’t how the script was supposed to go!