Chapter 92: The Changing Portrait
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
The sun finally broke through the horizon, signaling the start of a new day.
Miles had remained vigilant throughout the dark hours, seated stoically within the dimly lit mourning hall. Even though fatigue hadn’t overtaken him, the sheer emotional and mental stress from the situation had taken its toll. Hours upon hours of continuous surveillance of the coffin in the hall, expecting any form of paranormal activity would undoubtedly drain anyone. To put it bluntly, this kind of tension could bring even the toughest person to their knees.
Yet, there was something unusual about Miles at this moment. He wasn’t entirely human, and this perhaps explained why he hadn’t sought any respite. When facing such crucial circumstances, enduring extreme exhaustion becomes a necessity.
Staring at the coffin, Miles mused, “The coffin hasn’t been tampered with or disturbed all night. Not once did any malevolent entity confront me during my watch. It seems my prior assumptions were indeed accurate.” His eyes, though, told another story. They were a deep shade of red, so intense that even without his supernatural sight, one could mistake them as belonging to a ghost.
The risk he had taken the previous night was not a small one. He had attempted to understand the connection between the malicious ghosts and this particular coffin. From what he could piece together, not one but both the troubled souls from the village seemed intrinsically linked to it. However, one enigma haunted him: Why had the entity known as the “Sick Ghost” specifically orchestrated a meeting of all the ghost tamers the night before? What was the motive?
Although he had numerous facts and observations, connecting them into a coherent narrative proved difficult. “However,” he thought, “I’m now confident that the genuine spirit is trapped within this coffin. I must devise a plan to ensure it stays that way.” His gaze shifted to a body bag nearby. He had invested a hefty 20 million in it, and he hoped it would prove its worth.
His earlier hesitation stemmed from uncertainty about the coffin’s actual contents. The consequences could’ve been dire if he had made a wrong move and the ghost was still roaming free.
Mulling over his next move, Miles rose from his seated position, stretching his limbs, which had grown slightly stiff. Despite the looming danger, he knew he needed to act, and as he took steps towards the coffin with intentions to pry it open with his ghostly abilities, an unexpected sight caught him off guard.