Chapter 97: Releasing with His Own Hands.
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Had Miles truly lost his grip on reality? Not exactly. He wasn’t spiraling into insanity but was instead making a daring and strategic gamble, anchoring his decisions on a profound instinct. In the past, Miles exhibited moments of doubt and uncertainty, leading to choices that disrupted the established equilibrium.
“Why would that elderly lady try to deceive us over something as mundane as a cough? If we accept that spirits are real in this narrative, then her actions hint at an intent to disturb the balance—something that contradicts what we previously believed about her.”
In the midst of the surrounding pandemonium, there was no luxury of time to ponder these questions. Their immediate concern was survival.
“It’s taking form!”
Miles, with bated breath, watched intently as a silhouette emerged from the elaborate golden box in front of him. It moved fluidly, shaping and reshaping on the floor, resembling a dark mist or a fleeting shadow.
“What kind of ghost is this?” Yiming posed, his concern palpable, his fingers ready to activate his supernatural skills if necessary.
Stretch, too, appeared on edge, seemingly about to summon his own spectral force.
“I’m not inclined to share that,” Miles replied coldly. “While I’ve had my misjudgments, you two bear a significant portion of the blame. Your early doubts about me paved the way for impulsive actions. But, the identity of this spirit hardly matters now.”