What a cunning ghost

"Ahhh!!! Ghost, it's a ghost!!!"

Zhou Qiaoling screamed and turned to flee.

Just moments ago, a ghost had breathed down her neck, sending the trio scrambling in panic into the basement.

They had just found the box of matches when they heard a frantic "thump-thump" sound—like a heart pounding wildly.

Then, a female ghost in white suddenly appeared beside them.

"What demon dares—? I am of the Pure Yang—"

"Run!!!"

Before Mu Yawen could finish his declaration, Zhou Yue grabbed him and dragged him up the stairs.

Lu Ze's illusionary realm had been tested by countless mighty cultivators, proving one universal truth:

No matter how strong you are, within this realm, all are equal!

Even Zhong Yi had been taken without a trace—how could Mu Yawen's Pure Yang Spirit possibly work here?

Zhong Yi was already gone. Zhou Yue couldn't just watch his reckless junior brother become the ghost's next meal!

The female ghost hung her head, her long hair cascading down as she leisurely climbed the stairs.

"Tap…"

"Tap…"

Each footstep was like a death knell, sending tremors of terror through their hearts.

"Ahhh!!! Lu Ze, you demon, you're inhuman!!!"

Zhou Qiaoling shrieked, her voice raw with fear, dignity as a Nascent Soul cultivator long forgotten.

The basement entrance lay at the top of a long staircase.

The entire haunted mansion was plunged in darkness, the only light coming from the spirit lantern Mu Yawen carried at the rear.

In the dim glow, Zhou Qiaoling suddenly saw it—

A writhing shadow on the stairs ahead.

"Ahhh!!! Another one! There's another ghost!!!"

She screamed again.

In horror games, one person's panic often spreads to the rest.

The illusionary realm was no different.

The trio's sanity had already dropped below 60.

Under the influence of the Fear-Soul Binding Array, their nerves were frayed to the limit.

"No choice—charge through! Don't let it grab you!"

"Get out, get out now!!! I'll hold it off if I have to!"

Zhou Yue and Mu Yawen roared in unison.

Zhou Qiaoling clenched her teeth, shut her eyes, and bolted forward.

With a "squelch," her foot landed on something soft.

Zhou Yue followed, stomping on the "ghost" on the stairs as he sprinted upward.

Mu Yawen, the boldest of them, leaped over the shadow—but not before glancing back.

The shadowy figure's head hung low, muttering incoherently as it reached out toward him.

Mu Yawen's face paled, and he kicked the "ghost" down the stairs.

"Hah! You think you can catch me?"

With the second "ghost" gone, the three fled the basement like their lives depended on it, slamming the iron door shut behind them.

Only then did they collapse, gasping for breath, their hearts still racing.

"Did anyone else… think that voice sounded familiar?"

"Voice? What voice?"

"That thing tried to grab me! Good thing I reacted fast and kicked it down!"

They exchanged shaky accounts of their narrow escape.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the stairs, Zhong Yi lay in a dazed heap, having tumbled down in a bruised and battered mess.

After struggling through endless supernatural barriers, he'd finally broken free…

Only to have his own teammates fail to recognize him.

As he pushed himself up, a bone-chilling cold crept up his spine.

He turned—and locked eyes with the grotesque, rotting face of the female ghost.

No.

Not "eyes."

Her sockets were hollow, the eyeballs gouged out, leaving only squirming maggots in their place.

"Guh… guh…"

Zhong Yi's chest heaved violently.

A terror unlike anything he'd ever known exploded in his mind.

His limbs turned to jelly, but he forced himself up, staggering blindly toward the stairs.

The iron door above was shut tight.

He slammed his palms against it, his voice tearing from his throat:

"Ghost… there's a ghost!!"

"Open the door! OPEN IT!!"

"LET ME OUT!!!"

Upstairs, the three had barely caught their breath when the violent banging on the door sent their nerves into overdrive again.

The muffled voice from below made Zhou Qiaoling's lips tremble.

"That… that sounds like Zhong Yi…"

"Damn cunning demon! Now it's impersonating Old Zhong?!"

Zhou Yue gritted his teeth, pounding the floor in frustration. "Little sis, help me hold this door down!!"

……

In the basement, on the stairs—

Zhong Yi's teeth chattered uncontrollably.

His sanity had plummeted below 30.

Every second near the ghost drained it further.

Desperation etched on his face, he battered the door with everything he had.

Then, an icy breath grazed the back of his neck:

"Debts must be paid…"

"Blood must be shed…"

The ghost's mundane whisper was laced with unspeakable horror.

Zhong Yi lost all control.

He punched, kicked, threw his body—even his head—against the door in mindless frenzy.

……

"Damn it! It's getting stronger—this ghost is relentless!!"

Zhou Yue strained to keep the door pinned, Zhou Qiaoling beside him pushing with all her might.

"Let me handle this!!!"

Mu Yawen bellowed, leaping into the air—

THUD.

His massive frame crashed onto the door like a boulder.

The noise from below ceased entirely.