Chapter 91: The Open Coffin
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Note: I’ve changed alot of things compared to the older edit so if you’re unaware of some name changes, check the wiki on the site
Three sleek sports cars, one tailing the other, sped down a winding rural road, each heading toward Spear City. Their engines roared in harmony with the surrounding tranquility, and the world outside became a blur of greens and browns.
Initially, a group of five people had embarked on this journey. They came with different backgrounds but a shared purpose. Yet, when the moment of departure came, only three remained to hit the road. And the time elapsed between their arrival and their swift departure wasn’t even a full day. In fact, the span between the moment they crossed paths with the menacing ghost and their decision to abandon their mission was astonishingly less than an hour. It could very well be a record-breaking exit for any group of ghost tamers.
As the cars sped on, Stretch started a group call inside one of them: “Yiming, should we really be leaving like this?”
Page’s voice crackled through from the frontmost car, dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, feeling brave? Why not turn around and play the hero for Miles? I’ve never been his biggest fan, but I’ve tolerated him for the sake of our mission. Did you see the sheer force that ghost wielded? We lost two of our friends before we even had a chance to retaliate. And, to make matters worse, the spirits within Sheng and Tian were sucked away.”
“And speaking of numbers, do you have any clue how many spirits haunt the premises of Yellow Hill Village?”
Stretch was quick to defend himself, “That’s not the point. Miles, with all his swagger, isn’t reckless. Remember the incident at the club? Or when he faced the ghost head-on? He’s fearless, no doubt. And after mapping out the village in such detail, we know he’s smart too. Why would someone of his caliber willingly remain in such a dangerous village? There has to be an underlying reason.”
Yiming, managing to multitask between steering the wheel and puffing on his cigarette, retorted, “What’s your point?”