Chapter 87: Phantoms Within the Prison (2)

All the large warehouses that should have stood nearby had vanished without a trace. Even the small building occasionally used for executions had disappeared as well, leaving nothing but a barren, open ground in sight.

Inside those warehouses were stored the weekly food supplies for everyone in the prison. Now, with no way out and this cache lost, countless lives would soon be threatened by starvation.

More crucially, none of the Awakened in this crowd—whose highest rank barely reached two stars—noticed that a short distance away, where the warehouses should have stood, there now gaped a pit shrouded in black smoke. They still believed it was flat ground because the specters here had conjured an illusion to deceive them.

At that moment, a figure identical in appearance to the Warden was standing where the warehouses once were, waving to the crowd as if urging them to come closer. Trusting the Warden’s longstanding reputation, the guards and arriving prisoners walked straight toward him, vanishing instantly into the swirling mist…

Yan Junhao felt the ground dissolve beneath his feet, an endless sensation of falling overtook him, and in the blink of an eye, he found himself in a place of eerie gloom.

The ground was uneven, darkness pressed in from all sides, not a single spark of light to be seen. The people who had been at his side had disappeared. But soon, a warmth enveloped him—a gentle, comforting sensation that eased his vigilance, lulling him into its embrace…

Meanwhile, Wang Liang, the five-star Spirit Investigator who had entered earlier, watched as this group of guards and prisoners tumbled down like fools. A wave of despair washed over him.

Binhai Prison had a long history, its founding tracing back to the previous century. In such ancient buildings, hidden stories inevitably unfolded over time, and no one knew how many secrets lay buried beneath its foundations.

These strange tales might have unforeseen consequences for the specters that haunted the place. Wang Liang had already witnessed that the ghost appearing here was highly unusual.

It possessed both the intangible aspect of a spirit and the formidable physical form of a monster, allowing it to switch between ferocious assaults and elusive retreats. If it was outmatched, it would dissipate into a cloud of resentful energy and slip away. When Wang Liang was at a disadvantage, it would transform into a colossal black creature and pursue him relentlessly. If Wang Liang hadn’t mastered the spatial singularity, he would have been drained to death in the depths of this pit.

Unfortunately, dropping into the pit was like stepping into the ghost’s domain—no matter how Wang Liang manipulated the spatial singularity, he couldn’t breach its boundaries; he could only move within.

Wang Liang had hoped that newcomers might help him escape. At worst, he could expend a large amount of magnetic energy to implant spatial singularities in them, allowing them to leave and summon reinforcements. But these fools had jumped straight down!

“Ah, it’s all ruined! I wonder if any Awakened managed to avoid falling in. No matter, I must find a way out and alert the outside world!”

If such a monstrous ghost escaped, it would spell disaster for Binhai City, which had only just survived the whale monster’s attack. Wang Liang sighed deeply, muttering to himself.

He hadn’t anticipated that the ghost’s confined space would be so bizarre—once inside, he was trapped. Otherwise, he would have reported the situation long ago.

Coo… coo-coo…

Just then, a sound like a pigeon’s call echoed nearby. Wang Liang’s expression changed; magnetic energy surged through him, and his body contracted rapidly towards his chest, transforming into a blue dot the size of a grain of rice and vanishing.

Moments after he disappeared, a black figure, taller than the prison itself, suddenly appeared where Wang Liang had stood. Its body was composed entirely of soft, sagging black matter, resembling a massive black bell inverted on the earth.

Atop its body were two enormous eyes, red as crescent moons, and beneath them gaped a hollow, round mouth like a black hole. Besides these, it had no other features.

Coo—

A booming sound rang out, yet the giant figure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

Wang Liang materialized elsewhere in the pit, emerging from the spatial singularity. He scanned the surroundings, and when he confirmed that the ghost was not nearby, he relaxed a little.

Though he couldn’t kill the ghost, as a five-star Spirit Investigator he could still protect himself—his magnetic energy was sufficient to shield him from the ghost’s psychic pollution. Those who had fallen in without reaching five stars were already being drawn into illusions, their minds being reworked by the ghost.

Once lost in the illusion, everything about them—their magnetic energy, their flesh and blood—would be devoured as nourishment for the ghost. They would become its slaves, subject to its command.

What Wang Liang didn’t realize was that this ghost’s illusion was quite singular, unlike others who wielded such powers. There was no bloodshed in its illusion; instead, it provided for those trapped within the fulfillment of their deepest, most secret desires.

For example, in Yan Junhao’s illusion—

The woman who once scorned him, Song Shuxian, was now his wife—a paragon of virtue and kindness, their relationship harmonious, exemplary. They had two adorable children, a boy and a girl, both well-behaved.

His former rival, the wealthy heir Zhong Yuyu, had squandered his fortune and wandered off, whereabouts unknown. Meanwhile, Yan Junhao, whose career once stalled, was now ascendant, having brought home multiple international gold medals for China.

Such scenes of filial devotion, conjugal bliss, and familial happiness made him the very image of a life triumphant.

Perhaps this was the vision most longed for by Yan Junhao, who had not yet become a mercenary, whose athletic dreams still burned bright, whose heart still harbored hopes of love.

His surrender was inevitable; the longer he lingered in the illusion, the more his body in the pit was tainted by darkness. Once fully engulfed, he would lose himself completely.

Others who fell with him fared even worse—some were wholly submerged in short order. The illusion granted them the things they most craved: a perfect dream where they were the sole protagonists of the world.

Here, those obsessed with wealth possessed endless riches; those greedy for power became rulers of nations; those lustful enjoyed ever-renewed beauties.

They had no inkling that their bodies outside were being assimilated, their consciousness soon to be erased altogether.

Wang Liang crept through the pit’s depths, finally locating the guards and prisoners who had just fallen. He watched, hidden, as the enormous ghost enveloped them.

From its gaping maw stretched countless black tubes.

These tubes, invisible, pierced directly into the brains of the crowd, yet no blood flowed. The ghost transformed their darkness-corrupted bodies into black liquid, which it siphoned through the tubes into itself.

Once drained, the victims vanished completely, leaving only their clothes and the memories others held of them—nothing else remained.

Witnessing this, Wang Liang felt a surge of urgency. If he did nothing, once the ghost finished feeding on these Spirit Investigators and Awakened, its power would surely grow, and his own safety would be in jeopardy.

Not to mention the lives before him!

Eyeing the black tubes connecting the ghost’s mouth to the crowd’s brains, Wang Liang devised a plan, though uncertain of its feasibility.

“Enough! Do or die—if I don’t act, I’m dead anyway!”

Seeing more and more people reduced to black liquid and devoured, Wang Liang steeled himself for a desperate struggle. While the ghost fed, he crept near, using the pit’s uneven ground for cover.

If he could just touch the ghost’s body, he could activate the spatial singularity and remove it. The force of space would sever the tubes, and perhaps the ghost would suffer a backlash from its own rage.

But the ghost was no fool. As Wang Liang approached, it quickly detected the slippery, elusive human it hadn’t managed to catch in the prison.

The moment Wang Liang met those blood-red crescent eyes, he knew disaster had struck—

He’d been discovered!

Sure enough, the humans whose bodies had been devoured now reconstituted themselves, drawing on the ghost’s resentful energy to form forms resembling their originals. They launched an assault on Wang Liang.

Wang Liang wielded a golden blade crackling with magnetic energy, slashing at these ghost slaves who flickered between intangible and iron-hard forms. His goal was clear—to reach the ghost and use the spatial singularity to expel it.

Though the attacking ghost slaves retained some human semblance, they were essentially extensions of the ghost. Unless the giant ghost died, their attacks would not cease; even if destroyed, they would be reborn from the ghost’s body.

Seeing this, Wang Liang grew ruthless.

He hurled golden bombs, detonating them at his feet. Shrapnel tore through the ghost slaves—and wounded him as well.

Blood streamed from a dozen wounds in his flesh…

Ignoring the pain, Wang Liang seized the opportunity as the ghost slaves were cleared, racing toward the massive ghost’s body.

“Get out of here!”

With his bloodied right hand, he slapped the ghost’s form. Magnetic energy surged, blue bands wrapping the monster. It contracted toward its core, and finally its immense body vanished from sight.