Chapter 32: The Closed-Down Marketplace
Miles tormented this cunning merchant for over an hour, pushing him to the brink of collapse. Only then did he return to the cell phone repair shop, extracting the phone he had lodged into the merchant’s head.
Miles gripped the merchant’s collar, his voice icy as he warned, “I suspect you’ve made a habit of tricking people, trading their phones out from under them. I bet you’ve amassed a fortune that way. You should know, I can be just an ordinary customer, or I can be a menace ten times as ruthless as you, forcing you to regret your actions. I’ll be watching. If I see you persisting in these deceptive practices, next time it won’t just be a phone I’m lodging in your skull.”
“Big… big brother, I won’t dare again,” the merchant stammered, his voice laced with fear.
“It seems you people toss away any semblance of conscience in the name of profit. When you’re not caught, you’re arrogant, even going so far as to play the victim, accusing me of peddling stolen merchandise. You think a simple apology can erase your wrongs once you’re discovered? This is far too easy for you. Your deceit appears so effortless that swindlers like you are a dime a dozen. Take today as a lesson, and remember to tread lightly next time.”
Having sternly admonished the merchant, Miles departed, compensation for his emotional distress in hand. His tactics might have been somewhat dubious, but that didn’t faze him.
As an infamous individual leading a liminal life between the living and the supernatural, Miles understood that his survival hinged on tracking down that ghost. “I don’t mind resorting to despicable means as long as I can secure a comfortable old age for my mother before I die. If I’m gone, what will become of her? Her health is already failing,” Miles mused, a glimmer of sorrow flickering across his face.
“Sadly, there’s no payout for solving paranormal incidents in this place. Otherwise, I could risk it all for a chance at millions, perhaps even tens of millions of dollars.”
Roaming aimlessly through the city streets, Miles kept his eyes peeled for potential ways to pad his wallet. Eventually, he came to a halt in front of a telephone pole covered in an assortment of advertisements. These ranged from reward offers for lost children to simpler posts seeking ad space.
While scanning the ads, Miles’s attention was drawn to a half-ripped flyer. After a moment’s hesitation, he thought, “Should I take a chance on this?”