Chapter 79: The Dragon Prison Well (7)

An immensely evil force gazed upon the spirit investigators, probing the deepest, most terrifying recesses of their memories. Instinctively, all the spirit investigators chose to keep their distance from the cluster of buildings, driven by the primal urge to survive.

But as the bell ceased its tolling, the newly appeared clock atop the church began to slowly turn backward. An invisible force bound every spirit investigator who had entered the complex in place. Then, a perfect reflection of the buildings appeared in the sky above.

The scene in the reflection was identical, except that the streets of the mirrored city were utterly deserted.

Here, however, endless flames erupted from the void, red fire clouds drifting around the investigators like spirits of fire.

Just then, the clock stopped its reverse motion, and the invisible bindings vanished.

A piercing scream rang out.

Suddenly freed, one spirit investigator inadvertently brought his golden weapon too close to a fire cloud, drawing it to him. The flames followed the weapon onto his body, and within a single breath he was transformed into a human torch.

The red flames were peculiar: they seemed to burn only on the surface, refusing to spread deeper or elsewhere.

The fire scorched the investigator's skin, blood pouring forth as the smell of charred flesh filled the air. Despite his agonized, soul-wrenching screams, the uncanny flames did not claim his life.

Instead, he became a blood-soaked monster, still ablaze.

Witnessing this, the other spirit investigators hurried to avoid the drifting fire clouds, fleeing toward the edge of the building complex. Yet the fire clouds were too numerous, and many were touched by them.

In an instant, the place became a living hell, reminiscent of what Ma Liang had once seen in the world of suspended flames. Curses, cries of pain, faces twisted with hatred and despair—negative emotions flooded the buildings.

As the fire clouds scorched the investigators, the waves of negative emotion were absorbed by the complex itself, causing it to slowly expand. Besides the newly appeared gray church, all the buildings grew in size and height, and the fire clouds grew larger, too.

Those who managed to escape fled toward the passage, while those left behind were likely lost forever.

The forest anomaly, also affected by the breaking of the chains, sensed the surge of negative energy. Beneath the earth, its arthropod-like legs began to move frantically, raising dust as it advanced toward the buildings.

Soon, the forest anomaly plunged into the complex, and a fierce struggle began. The forest consumed the buildings, while fire clouds on the roads began burning the trees. Two waves of despair-laden energy surged outward from the buildings.

Along with the spread of this energy came the spiritual contamination from both anomalies.

As the two collided, the overwhelming spiritual pollution caused all the spirit investigators to pause, even cracking the helmets issued by the research institute. They all sensed the power of these anomalies—and the sudden, overwhelming despair creeping into their hearts.

Humanity has always sought ways to strengthen itself, to resist the supernatural. But with the monsters growing so rapidly in strength, can they truly win? Can they really eradicate all ghosts and restore the old ways?

Doubt. Self-denial. Loss of identity. These thoughts plagued every investigator who had entered the world of the Dragon Prison Well.

“Move, now!”

At that moment, a resolute investigator broke through the mental contamination and shouted. His cry snapped many out of their reverie. Now was not the time for philosophy or pondering the future—escape was all that mattered. Companions shook each other awake; those who could not be roused were dragged along. The investigators began to flee toward the passage.

Meanwhile, the two anomalies, now saturated with negative energy, clashed more violently, even deploying their ghost cores as weapons.

Unlike their assaults on humans, spiritual contamination had no effect on ghosts. Their battle was raw, unrestrained.

The road devoured the roots of the forest, while the trees entangled and absorbed buildings, making them part of themselves.

Strange new creatures appeared among the trees: gray rabbits the size of domestic pigs, with blood-red eyes and four tusks; four-winged, red-eyed birds whose bodies had rotted down to bare bone. These strange beings began to battle and consume the fire clouds within the complex.

Until the gray church stirred—again ringing twelve times as black threads filled the sky.

The black threads twisted like living things, slicing the forest into splinters, binding the strange creatures and feeding them to the fire clouds. The fire clouds, after consuming these creatures, grew larger still.

In the end, the complex was stripped of all vegetation, with only a few gray trees by the roads and some odd creatures formed of fire clouds lingering in the sky.

The clash between the forest anomaly and the complex culminated in a fusion, with the buildings becoming the dominant entity.

The anomalous bell tower, which had rendered such service, now hovered quietly at the center of the complex above a pit wreathed in flames. The black threads, which once delved underground, now connected evenly to the twelve hour marks on the clock.

Taking advantage of this chaotic battle, the spirit investigators finally escaped with the remaining gray-covered books. Once outside, they delivered the books to the research institute, where researchers immediately began their work.

The lake anomaly, which also managed to escape, reached the sea near Mingzhu Island and quickly claimed a territory with a radius of about ten nautical miles (18,520 meters). Like a spreading stain, it turned the once blue sea pitch black.

Once its ghost core fully merged with the surrounding waters, its domain would grow ever larger—then would begin humanity’s true nightmare. Naturally, if a spirit investigator discovered it in time, it would remain but an infant among monsters.

The storm caused by the Dragon Prison Well had temporarily subsided.

Yet in Binhai City, Wu Zui was about to face new troubles. After the whale anomaly self-destructed, the dense, despair-laden energy not only attracted nearby ghosts, but also drew in things that were not human—for example, the Purification Society.

Among those arriving in Binhai City were more than one elder-level figure from the Purification Society. Of the society’s thirteen elders, each was said to be stronger than Scarface, at least his equal. Conservatively, each possessed a tamed, three-star ghost at their command. Their ghosts could presumably absorb not only despair energy but also magnetic energy, much like the ghost mist did before.

Ordinary investigators were utterly outmatched. Whether the research institute could devise a countermeasure remained to be seen.

…

At this moment, near the Donggang district of Binhai City, in a suburban villa, a man weighing at least three hundred pounds lay snoring on a soft bed. The original family of three who owned the house had vanished without a trace, despite two of them being two-star magnetic awakeners—it made no difference to their fate.

A blue-eyed anomaly, more than two meters long and resembling a wolfdog but far more muscular, lay at the door. Beneath its claws was the only edible flesh left in the villa—a man’s hairy leg.

The blue-eyed anomaly occasionally looked up at the sleeping fat man, its gaze fierce and murderous, yet tinged with fear. It was hard to imagine a monster afraid of a human.

Beside the fat man’s pillow sat a spectral woman in a bright yellow cheongsam, her voluptuous figure reminiscent of a ripe peach, almost irresistible in allure.

Yet her blood-red, murderous eyes proved she was no longer human, but a violent and powerful ghost spirit.

Just then, the fat man’s snoring stopped.

“My darling Spirit Consort, it’s time for some exercise!”

The fat man opened his eyes and immediately looked toward the spectral woman, his hand shrouded in dark energy as he grabbed the ghost and pulled her onto the bed. Soon, sounds best left undescribed filled the room.

This was the Purification Society’s thirteenth elder—the Carnivore, Man Tu.

The cheongsam ghost was a spirit he had tamed from an ancient tomb, a three-star ghost who had served him for some time. Man Tu’s purpose here was to help his darling Spirit Consort break through, using the abundant despair energy unleashed by the whale anomaly’s self-destruction.

…

At the same time, in an orphanage on the western outskirts of Binhai City, waves of despair energy drifted through the air. Nearby ghosts drawn by this energy never exited the seemingly dilapidated orphanage.

Inside, a thin man in a wine-red suit, bearing a somber air, excitedly painted with a bucket of red “paint” on the walls.

His black brush danced as he covered the walls with scenes of hell—blood, violence, slaughter leaping from the paintings, the imagery potent enough to inflict spiritual contamination on the human mind.

Suddenly, the man's excited expression froze. He turned, glaring viciously at the paint bucket in his hand. Lifting the bucket, he brought it to his nose, his demeanor growing manic.

After a slight twitch of his nostrils…

“No! It stinks! It stinks! Damn it, you insult my masterpiece!” The man in the red suit roared in fury, his voice echoing through the orphanage.