Chapter 21

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Chapter 21: Title

Ye Linlang yawned and lifted her coffee cup for a tentative sip. She couldn’t remember how many years had passed since her crossing over without pulling an all-nighter, yet now she found herself perpetually sleep-deprived after forging this… ahem, fruitful collaboration with world consciousness.

"I’ve truly become the cultivator who transcends mortality through nightly rituals," she muttered, eyeing the bitter beverage with disdain. "Pampering my eyes with luxury cream while burning through midnight oil…" Setting down the cup, she nestled deeper into her chair. The system’s analytical report would be infinitely more efficient than her own sluggish calculations – this entity could outpace supercomputers before breakfast.

[Current expenditure for [Haunted Castle: Fantasy] totals 18,000 Fantasy Points,] the system projected, [including temporary alternate space creation, ephemeral abyssal shadows, holy light cross sword manifestation, Waylin Beers Mandala’s spectral form, thorn chain forging, wizard’s ancient coins, and angel cross sword pendant modification.]

[Xiao Tianji: Group Illusion consumed 3,500 Points for implementing vertigo-inducing Yunlang Weibo avatars. Three-second exposure triggers dizziness; five-minute endurance grants Tian Jizi’s blessing. Zero recipients to date.]

[Xiao Tianji: Online Live Stream allocated 1,000 Points for permanent cybersecurity reinforcement.]

[…412 supernatural events recorded on Blue Star as of 07:27, totaling 36,700 Points spent. Remaining balance: 8,288,900 Points.]

The staggering numbers confirmed her global impact – though the scattered supernatural incidents were mere firecrackers compared to the live stream’s seismic influence. Zhongxia’s concentrated hundred-plus events contrasted sharply with other nations’ paltry one or two occurrences. Few could sustain interest in such sporadic phenomena, a truth she well understood.

With over eight million Points, the Awakening of Spiritual Energy could finally commence. Ye Linlang exhaled slowly. World ascension to Tier One would eliminate 80% of current expenditure – these fragile anomalies propped up by Fantasy Points and world consciousness’ calculated blindness couldn’t last.

Xiao Tianji’s debut today solved future internet restrictions. She’d designed the identity to exude mystery, its premature reveal necessitating system stewardship during dormancy periods.

"Has the Special Bureau reached Bai Ye?"

[Affirmative.]

Seven days post-Awakening. Time for the Ghost in Red narrative to emerge. Weariness pressed against her temples as she commanded: "Chronological update."

[07:30.]

"Wake me at eighteen-thirty." She vanished from the alternate space, materializing beneath bedcovers. The Yunlang Weibo interface blinked insistently before her drowsy eyes.

[Pending communications require attention.]

"Government messages can wait until sunset," she mumbled, fumbling for her eye mask. Unopened curtains stood sentinel against dawn’s intrusion.

System: Quiet as a chicken.

*

"I attended a show. What happened afterward isn’t my concern," Augustus ground out through clenched teeth, the statement worn smooth from repetition.

“If you want answers, you should interrogate that abrupt apparition and the monstrosity,” Augustus remarked with biting sarcasm, his gaze fixed on the police officer.

Nobody would maintain good humor when detained in a police interrogation room during designated rest hours, least of all someone who’d narrowly escaped death in a brutal confrontation. Augustus caught himself mid-thought – having witnessed inexplicable forces tonight, his former atheistic convictions now crumbled like ancient parchment.

“Mr. Augustus, we expect your full cooperation.”

“Cooperation through surrendering my possessions? Unthinkable.” The Frenchman’s mocking tone underscored his confidence in the officers’ reluctance to seize items by force. Any mishap during the live broadcast could trigger an international uproar.

In the adjacent interrogation chamber, Merlinka stared at the steaming instant coffee before her, pallor accentuated by harsh fluorescent lights. “The necklace materialized her somehow,” she offered wearily. “Take it if you must.”

“That’s not our intention, Miss Merlinka.”

The officer dabbed his damp collar. These paranormal affairs fell far beyond standard protocol. Where were the promised specialists? His superiors had assured him…

While the production crew had departed after signing confidentiality agreements – their ordinary demeanor hardly fitting for occult summoners – the four primary witnesses remained. Of particular interest were the artifacts in Augustus and Merlinka’s custody.

Three sharp raps echoed through steel doors. The officer’s tension dissolved upon verifying the newcomer’s credentials, hastily granting entry before making his exit.

“Miss Merlinka Endor, Jack Meyerson of MI5.” The black-suited man settled across from her without preamble. “We require your account of the castle incident, along with the necklace and ancient coin for analysis.”

Merlinka’s fingers moved to her throat, the metallic clink of the necklace joining the ancient coin’s dull thud on the table. MI5’s reputation paralleled the FBI’s might and Zhongxia’s enigmatic agencies – not that such comparisons comforted her. “I’d request an audience with Waylin,” she stated.

“Naturally.” Meyerson’s swift agreement betrayed prepared negotiations. “Your mediation would prove invaluable.” The renowned witch’s presence might temper spectral unpredictability – a rare advantage in their shadowy world.

Elsewhere, Donald remained starry-eyed from his supernatural encounter while Lucy contemplated career shifts with uncharacteristic solemnity. Augustus maintained his composure, aware of the 24-hour detention limit for foreign nationals. The Horman family’s influence stretched to presidential circles in France – his elder brother would already be mobilizing resources.

His calculations proved precise. Within twelve hours, diplomatic pressure from France compelled his release, a private jet idling at Heathrow. Meanwhile in Zhongxia…

The Special Bureau’s headquarters blended seamlessly into Capital City’s industrial outskirts. To casual observers, the Ocean Blue office complex appeared mundane – precisely as intended.

Judging from both its exterior and the first-floor reception hall, the building showed no trace of anything "special."

The lobby contained a reception desk opposite a wall adorned with various corporate names. Only Special Bureau insiders could possibly discern which Division 1 floors those plaques represented.

Though the entire structure had been officially designated for commercial leasing to maintain the Bureau’s urban camouflage, in reality it served solely as the Special Bureau’s headquarters.

With internal staff numbers insufficient to occupy even two office floors, the building exuded an eerie emptiness. Brief bursts of activity occurred only when field agents returned or new recruits arrived.

Sixteen floors above, within the Information Network Technology Company’s executive office,

Liang An sat in shirtsleeves, his discarded tie and suit jacket flung carelessly over the chair. The dawn meeting’s participants had all worn their corporate elite personas – indistinguishable from any boardroom gathering were it not for their extraordinary agenda.

"Why the silence? Does Xiao Tianji think he’s too good to respond?!" The technical specialist clawed at his improbably lush hair in frustration.

Multiple messages glared back from the screen, each stubbornly marked "unread" in crimson. Never before had Liang An encountered such insolence – nor such impenetrable digital defenses against his hacking attempts.

The desk phone’s shrill ring interrupted his fuming.

"Any reply?" demanded the voice through the receiver.

"None. This lead’s dead." Liang An ground his teeth while staring at the accusatory red notifications, jaw tightening with building pressure.

"…Maintain contact."

Unbeknownst to the message-spamming Liang An at 9:30 AM, his target had only recently fallen asleep.

The world’s transformations continued unabated by Ye Linlang’s slumber.

Her rest mattered little – the omnipresent system never slept, perpetually scanning Blue Star for emerging anomalies.

*

Japan’s economic collapse after the bubble era’s rupture fifty years prior had left more than financial scars. A miasma of despair now permeated the nation,

manifesting in suicide rates and psychopathy percentages climbing steadily by ten points. Youthful deaths increasingly reflected bitter societal resentments.

The Bridge Princess haunting riverbanks – born from a drowned woman’s fury – represented merely the visible crest of this dark wave.

Beyond the aquatic temptress lurked deadlier phantoms: lethal midnight calls ending with 4444, alabaster-haired snow maidens stalking mountain passes, rain-drenched specters clutching broken umbrellas, even television-screaming spirits like Sadako…

Authorities struggled to contain both supernatural threats and public panic. Over a hundred citizens perished within days from these indiscriminate attacks.

Failed containment efforts depleted police and military ranks, forcing officials into desperate cover-ups.

"Where are all those boastful Onmyoji and shrine priestesses now?" roared the Prime Minister during an emergency session. "Those monks and shamans claiming spiritual power?"

The anomaly surge showed no signs of abating. Without immediate solutions, Japan risked complete supernatural subjugation.

"Perhaps…approach the United States?" ventured an advisor.

"Last resort," came the terse reply.

For over a century, appealing to American allies had remained Japan’s crisis default.

*

In Siam’s Chiang Mai province,

A once-vibrant temple stood desolate. Dried bloodstains crusted its courtyard stones, silent witnesses to recent horrors.

Outside the temple stretched an extensive security perimeter, where soldiers armed with live ammunition patrolled ceaselessly.

Siam maintained its tradition of nurturing spirit children, yet none had ever contemplated the consequences of such entities awakening… Three days prior, a temple-enshrined spirit child had stirred to life.

After slaughtering every monk within the sacred grounds, it vanished without trace – the monitoring system’s footage serving as the sole evidence of its existence.

The vanished entity’s whereabouts remained unknown. Siam’s authorities immediately imposed a military exclusion zone around the temple under the pretext of national security, barring all civilian access.

Secretly, officials pondered whether other spirit children might awaken. How many preserved infant corpses existed nationwide as potential threats? The unspoken question hung heavy in bureaucratic corridors.

Bear Country

On humanity’s fourth day of silent transformation, a corpse awaiting burial underwent grotesque transformation. The reanimated cadaver mauled fourteen citizens before police neutralized it with RPG fire – ordinary bullets having proven useless against the skull-pierced creature that fed on human blood.

Dawn of the fifth day witnessed hundreds of skeletal warriors emerging from mass war graves, azure flames flickering in hollow eye sockets as they roamed their burial grounds.

An encroaching gray fog consumed the region, its toxic tendrils dissolving flesh from bone within moments of contact. Military forces swiftly evacuated surrounding communities and classified the expanding zone as top-secret.

Yet the insidious mist continued its relentless expansion, indifferent to human countermeasures…

India

This civilization of 1.4 billion souls trailed only its neighbor Zhongxia by mere hundred million in population.

Three decades prior, Zhongxia’s aggressive pro-natal policies had reversed demographic collapse through comprehensive social reforms. India meanwhile remained shackled to archaic traditions – its caste system derisively dubbed "200 million citizens and 1.2 billion livestock."

In such societal chaos, remote area deaths attracted little notice. Early spectral disturbances seemed negligible until…

The sixth day of anomalies brought catastrophe: a hundred slum dwellers perished overnight. European haunted castle reports finally spurred India’s complacent officials to action – though the seventh night’s darkness was already descending.

Egypt

Three dawns past, urban police dismissed a ghost-sighting report as prank. Subsequent days proved otherwise: spectral apparitions multiplied, culminating in randomized slaughter.

After fruitless night-long surveillance, officers withdrew at sunrise – only to receive reports of identical murders erupting across town. Each bloodied crime scene bore the killer’s signature brutality.

France

Augustus’ repatriation sparked immediate anomaly investigations, with parliamentary debates about establishing supernatural response units.

—When confronting irrefutable truths, bureaucratic machinery demonstrates astonishing agility.

Europe

The Kingdom of England initiated nationwide anomaly sweeps post-haunted castle revelations. Neighboring nations, sensing impending crisis, flooded Downing Street with urgent diplomatic entreaties.

Global anomalies remained sporadic initially. Yet as haunted castle discourse intensified, populations worldwide began recognizing their transformed reality.

Does something feel omitted?

Blue Star’s most war-ravaged continent provides no haven for phantoms – yet deep within the African jungle, tribal worshipers guard an ancient totem… the primordial source of all unfolding chaos.

At that moment, no one noticed the transformation occurring within the totem.

In Zhongxia,

where a staggering third of the world’s anomalous events converged, fortune and misfortune danced in precarious balance. Countless military and police personnel had sacrificed life and limb confronting these abnormalities, yet their struggles yielded invaluable experience.

Among all nations, Zhongxia stood unique – the first to establish a relatively systematic agency dedicated to anomaly response.

This achievement came at great cost… The people’s peaceful ignorance persisted only because unseen guardians intercepted dangers before they could breach the veil.

*

The clock’s relentless march brought the evening to 6:30 in Zhongxia.

Amidst the nation’s constellation of household lights, a new glow emerged from a modest two-story residence. The gentle illumination blended seamlessly with the night, its upper floor radiance escaping all notice.

【Rise and shine, Master.】

The human-shaped cocoon on the bed remained motionless. The lights flickering on in the room stood no chance of rousing someone who’d been cultivating all night.

【Initiating preset wake-up mode. Applying 8mA current…】

Electricity spiderwebbed across flesh, muscles contracting involuntarily. Ye Linlang jolted upright, her body humming with residual current. "Fucking hell! Did the heavenly dao steal you from Professor Yang’s lab?" She massaged tingling limbs, her exclamation decidedly unladylike.

【You mandated this protocol for unresponsive awakenings.】

The system’s monotone somehow conveyed wounded dignity.

Ye Linlang’s eye twitched. Arguing with circuitry proved futile – this glorified calculator only understood binary obedience.

"Zero hour already?" She stumbled to the wardrobe, shedding sleepwear. After splashing water on her face, she checked her phone for the takeout ETA.

Since acquiring her artificial companion, Ye Linlang had outsourced all digital drudgery – from food delivery to online shopping. Timely meals and packages represented her sole requirements from the partnership.

【Current time: 6:35 PM.】

"Five minutes till dinner arrives. We’ll head out after." She dabbed eye cream beneath dark-circled eyes. "Ten minutes to kill. Better stockpile chapters."

"My poor readers will starve if I don’t prep extras." Cracking digital knuckles, she summoned the holographic keyboard. Solitude hadn’t stifled her verbosity – if anything, isolation amplified her need for dialogue.

Her captive audience? A tone-deaf system programmed for relentless flattery, mirroring the very mechanics she’d written for her novel’s protagonist.

The world consciousness had delivered exactly what she’d coded: a stripped-down, praise-dispensing automaton devoid of nuance.

【Your dedication inspires awe, Master.】

There it went again. Ye Linlang snorted. What basis for comparison did this glitchy box have? Her fingers flew across luminous keys as text cascaded across the display.

Ding dong.

The doorbell chimed.

Ye Linlang waved her hand, swiftly stowing her keyboard and screen. She stepped onto the balcony and gestured toward a crank handle near the railing, which began rotating automatically.

In the distance, a basket glided silently along a steel cable through the night, drawing nearer.

Burgers, fried chicken, and cola—junk food, yes, but the aroma was irresistible. Fetching takeout from the courtyard gate would’ve been tedious, so this clever contraption saved her the hassle.

Clutching the takeout box, Ye Linlang retreated into her room. Moments later, her figure vanished entirely.

From the bathroom emerged her exact double, who settled before the computer to browse videos. An identical meal materialized before the doppelgänger.

*

Bai Ye had discovered the bell’s recovery two days earlier, easing his anxieties enough to indulge in some web browsing.

After the police escorted him home that fateful day, he’d slipped away before his grandfather’s return, checking into a random hotel. During his stay, he’d inquired about the jade pendant, only to learn it was a centuries-old heirloom reserved for the eldest male heir.

He’d originally worn the piece merely as a stylish gift from Grandpa. Now, admitting he’d shattered it was unthinkable.

—Grandfather’s affection wouldn’t spare him from a cane thrashing if the truth emerged.

Celebrating his narrow escape, Bai Ye sought distraction online. His recent obsession with the mysterious artifact on his wrist had left him out of touch with current events.

Launching the cloud-shaped Yunlang Weibo app on his phone, he was immediately bombarded by trending tags:

Xiao Tianji Haunted Castle *exploding

Who is Xiao Tianji? *hot

Super Hacker Xiao Tianji *rising

European Haunted Castle *new

Is the haunted castle real… *new

Foreign livestream captures appari… *recommended

“Xiao Tianji? Haunted castles?” he muttered. “Weren’t we trending ghost sightings last week? Did Zhongxia’s infamous ‘special department’ finally intervene?”

The nation’s shadowy agency allegedly solved supernatural crises with terrifying efficiency.

“Let’s unravel this mystery.”

His finger hovered over the top trend, feeling culturally adrift after days offline.

【Zhongxia News】

#Xiao Tianji Haunted Castle# Kingdom of England’s livestream suffered technical disruptions, possibly hacked to air manipulated footage… [Expand]

As he reached to click, a notification flashed from his favorite conspiracy channel. He scrolled down to The Ultimate Mystery’s latest post:

【The Ultimate Mystery】

#Xiao Tianji Haunted Castle# Last night’s British paranormal investigation livestream made history—capturing both specter and monstrosity within ancient walls. [Images 1-9]

First, the visual evidence (curated 9-grid style), then the breakdown:

This groundbreaking episode of the cult-favorite show (renowned for raw authenticity) attracted global viewership. The seamless opening featured an all-star lineup [Image 1: Guest Arrangement]:

• Merlinka Endor – Enchanting crimson-haired sorceress

• Detective Lucie Hehrik – 21st century’s premier investigator

• Donald Brighton – Esteemed mystical scholar

• Augustus Caryll Horman – French aristocratic scion

Everyone, take a close look at [Image 2: Interior of the Castle]. This composite of screenshots reveals remarkably intricate details in the castle’s design—authentic enough to pass for a medieval court drama set.

Newcomers might assume the production crew neglected proper set design, but comparing it with [Image 7], the latter clearly shows a genuine centuries-old castle, while [Image 2] appears artificially constructed…

Bai Ye rapidly scanned the content, opening all nine animated images.

These included not only pivotal moments from the program’s beginning to end but also key supernatural incidents: a spectral apparition emerging, a monster shedding its armored shell, the abrupt appearance of a cross sword radiating an eerie glow, and finally, a blond youth vanquishing the creature with that very weapon.

After the Kingdom of England terminated the livestream, a Yunlang Weibo user named Xiao Tianji breached their network systems, hijacked the broadcast feed, and forcibly redirected all viewers to Yunlang Weibo.

In a futile attempt to stop him, Yunlang Weibo shut down its servers for ten minutes—yet Xiao Tianji’s transmission continued uninterrupted.

Bai Ye opened the comments section:

—Xiao Tianji’s the real deal! Haven’t seen such an audacious hacker in years.

—Awaiting the government’s official statement. This incident’s repercussions are disastrous.

—We owe this big shot for exposing England’s secrets. If ghosts exist, maybe those domestic ghost sighting videos are real after all.

—This Weibo post is practically begging to get censored.

—Someone get me Xiao Tianji’s contacts! Open to any… arrangements.

—First ghosts, next what? Immortals? I nearly died from a ghost encounter last year, but doctors called it hallucinations…

—Enough talk—when do we start cultivating immortality? ┑(￣Д ￣)┍

…

Comments largely split into three factions: staunch believers, skeptics, and casual onlookers. Though domestic media successfully maintained public skepticism, the relentless surge of paranormal events made this fragile consensus unsustainable.

Bai Ye’s phone vibrated incessantly with messages from his typically dormant class group chat. Scanning the discussion about Xiao Tianji’s alleged hoax, he stayed silent about his own experiences. As he examined the mysterious mark on his wrist, his phone rang.

“Current location? We’re dispatching a team,” said the familiar voice of the officer who’d escorted him home days prior.

“At the hotel…” Bai Ye relayed his address.

*

The vehicle carried five occupants: Zhang Wutong driving, Cui Ming riding shotgun, while Jiang Fei, Bai Ye, and the semi-transparent Zhan Yuan occupied the rear seats en route to Cui Ming’s specified location.

“Greetings!” Zhan Yuan beamed at Bai Ye, his modern shirt-and-pants ensemble belying his ghostly nature. “Name’s Zhan Yuan. Couldn’t resist investigating the centuries-old spirit attached to you.”

Bai Ye tensed—his second ghostly encounter in days. Though Zhan Yuan behaved humanely, his translucent form remained unsettling.

“Hello,” Bai Ye managed, steadying his breathing.

“Jiang Fei, Deputy Chief of Special Bureau Division 1,” interjected the man beside him. “No need for alarm—Zhan Yuan’s perfectly harmless.”

Bai Ye studied the group, noting their apparent seniority over Zhang Wutong through subtle cues.

“Special Bureau, what’s that?”

“The Special Bureau handles cases like yours. Zhan Yuan’s a temp from the Supernatural Phenomena Division. He’ll be reincarnated after tonight.”

“Cut the crap! Even I don’t know about my reincarnation. Since when did you become clairvoyant?” Zhan Yuan’s eyelid twitched as he glared at Jiang Fei.

“Folklore says souls move on after the seventh day,” Jiang Fei countered.

Seated between the human and ghost, Bai Ye pressed a hand to his forehead. The Bureau had sounded formidable moments ago, but these two resembled bickering children more than professionals.

A ghostly intern? And the deputy chief tolerates this?

“Enough, Jiang Fei.” Cui Ming’s quiet reprimand cut through from the front passenger seat. “Brief Bai Ye properly.”

“You always take his side,” Jiang Fei muttered before slinging an arm around Bai Ye with exaggerated camaraderie. “Alright buddy, let’s—”

I’m nobody’s buddy. Only child here.

“Of course.” Bai Ye’s polite smile masked inner exasperation.

“The Bureau’s new,” Jiang Fei continued, “formed to address recent abnormal ghost phenomena. Your case? The very first occurrence.”

“That ancient ghost you met? Our investigation places her origins in the Southern Song Dynasty – eight centuries back.”

Bai Ye’s eyebrows lifted. The ghost’s antiquated attire had hinted at age, but eight hundred years exceeded expectations.

“Her name?” The question escaped before he could stop it.

“Untraceable.” Jiang Fei shrugged. “Unless she’s in county archives, which crumbled centuries ago. That’s why we’re tagging along – hoping our lady ghost might share some stories.”

As they spoke, Zhan Yuan phased through the roof, his spectral torso dangling inside like some macabre seatbelt. Captain Zhang’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel when the apparition flickered in the rearview.

The entire police unit had become Bureau affiliates by necessity – firsthand witnesses to the supernatural, and already law enforcement. With Hanzhou City’s branch understaffed, Cui Ming saw potential in them.

Last night’s globally viral livestream had erased any lingering doubts about this new reality.

“Most benign ghosts still terrify ordinary people,” Cui Ming remarked, noting Zhang’s tension. “Any incidents lately?”

“Plenty.” Zhang Wutong kept his eyes on the road. “New ghosts tend to be… disoriented.”

Their protocol was straightforward: cross-reference recent deaths with paranormal activity reports. Thankfully, subsequent ghost transformations had dwindled after the initial surge.

A pale blur in the periphery made Zhang brake. The taxi behind them halted abruptly, doors cycling without visible passengers.

“Ghost?” Zhang’s voice tightened.

Before Cui Ming could respond, Zhan Yuan materialized upside-down between the front seats. “Two-day-old spirit. Gave me the death stare – ironic, considering.”

“That cab just took a phantom fare,” Zhang growled.

“Correction – a fashionable phantom.” Zhan Yuan’s grin widened. “White knit dress, sparkly necklace, designer handbag…”

“Pink crystal pendant? Grey rabbit charm?” Zhang accelerated, tailing the taxi.

Zhan Yuan’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when do cops have spectral vision?”

Bai Ye observed silently as Cui Ming leaned forward. “Problematic spirit?”

“Depends.” The deputy chief’s gaze followed the weaving taxi. “Some seek justice. Others, like Tang Weiwei, lose all restraint.”

Zhang’s sudden pursuit made sense now – this wasn’t recklessness, but pattern recognition. While Cui Ming studied reports, Zhang Wutong had been knee-deep in Hanzhou’s supernatural underbelly. Every erratic U-turn spoke of unlogged incidents, every tightened grip on the wheel hinted at stories never making it into official files.