Chapter 39: The Slaughter Cruise (1)

At night, the monsters were far more active than during the day—not because of some mystical force like "yang energy," but because humanity harbors an unknown fear of darkness. Though not overwhelming, this diffuse negative emotion was like a delightful surprise for the ghosts and spirits. Thus, it was common for them to hunt under the cover of night.

Wang Yichuan had no real idea how long he could keep the monsters inside Haishan sealed. Judging by the current strength of the magnetic energy field he’d constructed, sealing a small ancient battlefield for a month would be easy enough, but Haishan was an entirely different matter.

When he fell into the pit, he sensed a vast body formed of flesh and blood beneath him; he’d landed atop its head. His worst fear was that the entire interior of Haishan had become the body of that monster.

Who knew how powerful such a monstrous being could be?

Even the high-explosive magnetic bomb had merely wounded what amounted to its hair; the explosion had only temporarily prevented it from using its resentment to launch bizarre attacks.

That magnetic bomb had taken Wang Yichuan two months to condense from his own magnetic energy, and yet it failed to kill the creature!

“Enough thinking. Let’s finish the seal and report it. Hey, come help me! This place is huge—am I supposed to wear myself out alone? Are you still my brother or not?” Wang Yichuan shook his head, dismissing his wild thoughts, and turned to call out to the helicopter pilot.

Naturally, the pilot was also a spiritual detective; otherwise, flying a helicopter here would be suicide. Did he really think ghosts couldn’t fly? If an ordinary person piloted a helicopter and was attacked, there was no alternative but a crash—everyone onboard would die.

“Alright!” came the reply, and the pilot began helping Wang Yichuan set up the magnetic energy field.

Binhai City District

Wu Zui and Xiao Ke’ai followed the lingering resentment all the way, but once they reached the city center, the trail vanished. They’d lost the ghost spirit. Besides the amount of time that had passed, their magnetic energy levels were another limiting factor.

“Master, what do we do now? I think we lost that three-star ghost spirit,” Xiao Ke’ai asked, bewildered.

“Let’s check the surveillance footage. It’s been so long, losing the trail through magnetic sensing alone is normal,” Wu Zui reasoned, offering another solution.

“Right!” Xiao Ke’ai exclaimed, suddenly enlightened.

While Wu Zui and his apprentice hurried to the traffic department to check the monitors, Sun Ming received a call from a mysterious contact.

“The matter is exposed. Escape immediately.”

Sun Ming’s face went deathly pale. The number belonged to a classmate who’d been promoted to the ministry—not the Detective Division, but the Resource Coordination Department. Through this connection, Sun Ming had met a bigwig in Resource Coordination, and then...

“Damn!” Sun Ming cursed under his breath, quickly summoning his wife Zhao Qing and preparing to flee.

If what he and the Resource Coordination bigwig had done was exposed, the lightest charge would be treason. If he didn’t run now and was caught, he’d be shot.

Sun Ming hurriedly gathered his unsuspecting wife, grabbed their phones and all the cash they had, and sped toward the outskirts.

Plane or train? Out of the question. He’d be caught by stationed detectives before he could even board.

Sun Ming and his wife’s terror, anxiety, and fear further nourished the ghost spirit forming in Sun Lang’s phone. It was worth noting that Sun Ming also discarded the old SIM card, replacing it with an anonymous new one.

Donggang, Zhao Family Fishing Village

After the smuggling ring in Li Family Fishing Village was annihilated by Wu Zui, Lin Feng, and others, the slightly smaller yet more discreet Zhao Family Fishing Village took over the business. However, they didn’t deal with ordinary stowaways—there was no profit in that.

They only smuggled out wealthy tycoons or corrupt officials—people with money. When such individuals fell from grace, they’d pay any amount, each worth ten ordinary clients. And the risks were lower; with a good reputation, more officials and gentry would flock to them.

Of course, their prices reflected this.

“What? Ten million per person? Why not just rob a bank!” In a shabby wooden shack, Sun Ming stared wide-eyed, his shock plain to see.

Zhao Qing beside him was equally stunned—a million per person? How could their family afford that? She knew nothing about her husband’s affairs, having become a full-time housewife after marriage.

“Mr. Sun, don’t think it’s expensive. We guarantee a safe and comfortable journey. You’ll first leave on our fishing boat, then a yacht will take you to a cruise ship, and finally you’ll arrive in Grand Metropolis. Ten million is quite cheap, isn’t it?”

The smuggling ring’s boss was unfazed by Sun Ming’s reaction. Since the outbreak of monsters, their prices had doubled. Many believed the situation abroad was better, so plenty were leaving.

So surprise was only natural!

Sun Ming glanced at his watch. He guessed the detectives hunting him had already searched his home and were checking road surveillance for his whereabouts. Having come from the detective system himself, Sun Ming knew his time was limited.

“Swipe the card! We leave now!”

He pulled out a card registered to a distant relative. Even if their assets were being frozen, it would take time to trace the cardholder. Plus, he had foreign accounts.

“Mr. Sun, you’re decisive. You’ll depart immediately. The fishing village and yacht are on standby; the cruise ship will require a brief wait in the Pearl Sea, but less than an hour,” the smuggling boss said amicably after confirming payment.

“Good—just hurry,” Sun Ming replied, squeezing his wife’s cold hand.

“Of course. Our efficiency is unmatched,” the boss answered.

The smugglers moved fast. Once Sun Ming’s funds hit their offshore accounts, he and Zhao Qing boarded the small fishing boat and vanished into the dark sea.

Luckily, as the business expanded and the need for a good reputation grew, they didn’t kill their clients—Sun Ming and his wife survived.

After two transfers, they boarded a cruise ship bound for Grand Metropolis, exhilarated at having escaped.

But even more excited was the ghost spirit formed by Sun Lang, now at two stars and freed from Sun Ming’s phone. The phone would likely be discarded before reaching Grand Metropolis. More importantly, the cruise ship was packed with negative energy that Sun Lang craved—nutrients for its advancement.

Naturally, Sun Ming and his wife weren’t the only passengers. The cruise sailed international waters, passing through several countries before reaching Grand Metropolis.

Onboard were the wealthy from many nations. Besides gambling, the ship offered all kinds of entertainment, including the infamous cage game.

Inside a wire-enclosed fighting arena, two boxers fought for a five-million prize, using any means to kill their opponent.

The rules? There were none.

Eye gouging, throat locking, groin kicks—anything was allowed, as long as it ended in death. Outside the cage, elegantly dressed men and women shouted themselves hoarse, each cheering for their chosen contender.

It was paradise here—for ghost spirits.

Sun Lang, drawn by instinct, entered the arena. The thick negative emotions were like a culinary masterpiece; Sun Lang began to absorb them greedily. Frenzy, bloodlust, slaughter—all these feelings became its power, raising its level from two stars onwards.

But soon, Sun Lang’s progress stalled at the peak of three stars; the threshold to four stars loomed like an abyss.

Sun Lang grew frenzied. Its already solidified spirit body gleamed with cruel scarlet eyes.

What does a ghost spirit need to advance? Negative emotions! Yes, fear is humanity’s greatest negative feeling; only unknown danger can create true terror.

It must be said—a three-star ghost spirit possessed intelligence rivaling humans, at least in the art of killing. And having dwelled long in electronic devices, manipulating electronics on a large scale was easy.

Sun Lang’s lips curled in a sinister smile. Its spirit body dispersed, and every passenger on the cruise received the same message—

“Shall we play a game? Let’s use your lives.”

Not everyone had their phones handy; many bosses’ devices were with their secretaries or lovers. Even those who saw the message dismissed it as a tasteless prank.

Most people thought, “Play with my life? What nonsense!”

So, those flirting kept flirting, gamblers kept gambling, spectators kept watching the cage match.

In the cruise’s bar—the most crowded spot—a man about to kiss his companion suddenly froze, his expression turning bizarre.

A gush of blood sprayed forth, dousing the woman across from him.

She screamed, her shrill cry overpowering the soft bar music, then fainted dead away.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the scene: the man turned, wearing a strange smile. His eyes had been gouged out and were bleeding; he held his eyeballs in his hand.

“The game has begun! Are you ready?”

With a chilling tone, he addressed the crowd, then twisted his neck and snapped it.

For a peak three-star ghost spirit, possessing a non-awakened person was child’s play.

The ship’s electronics broadcast his words everywhere. For those watching their phones or tablets, things were worse—the screens switched to a live feed.

The bloody scene and close-ups would terrify anyone except psychopathic killers.

Instantly, those with weak nerves wet themselves; the bar was filled with the stench of urine. Being nearby, they suffered the greatest shock.