Chapter 79: This Woman Has Finally Learned to Be Bad

Fang Cheng’s joke about taking the vajra home for toilet use was just that—a joke. He felt sentimental about his old plunger, worn smooth from use, and couldn’t bear to replace it.

But he did want to keep this awkwardly shaped vajra. His current attack methods relied on physics, leaving him helpless against undead. Plus, Kanzaki Rin being a minor might cause misunderstandings if she carried such an item. Better for Fang Cheng to hold it and take the heat instead.

They reached their destination: a solitary twenty-story building swallowed by darkness. Most residents had moved out or gone to bed early.

Entering through the unmanned main door, they found the security room empty and dark—the guards had likely fled. The elevator buttons showed only up to the 18th floor, with 19 and 20 missing.

Kanzaki Rin pressed “18” while steering a drone via tablet to inspect the rooftop. The feed showed boarded-up windows and doors—no way in except from below.

Fang Cheng glanced at the ascending floor numbers. “You scared of ghosts?”

“Nothing to fear.”

“Good. You go first then. I’m kinda spooked.”

Kanzaki Rin: “…”

The elevator doors creaked open, a chill gust making them shiver. Fang Cheng ducked behind her, suddenly recalling scenes from *Return of the Living Dead*.

She turned, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? You’re a ghost too.”

“Different kinds! If you call both fish, would you let me touch yours—”

An elbow silenced him. She strode out, stone-faced, Fang Cheng scrambling after.

He wasn’t truly scared—just wary of ambushes. Better she take point. If trouble struck, he could save her; the reverse? Unlikely.

The 18th floor’s lights were dead, the hallway pitch-black. Fang Cheng’s night vision barely worked, useless against spirits. Kanzaki Rin tossed him special night vision goggles from Tokyo’s Natural Research Institute—modified to detect spiritual entities.

They advanced single-file through the icy corridor, footsteps echoing. Most girls would’ve tensed up, but Kanzaki Rin moved calmly, unnervingly composed for a teenager.

At the staircase, the landlord had originally nailed wooden boards over the entrance, but they had been broken apart, leaving a hole large enough for an adult to slip through.

Fang Cheng and Kanzaki Rin exchanged glances, their hearts filled with doubt and surprise.

Had someone arrived before them?

According to Kanzaki Rin’s investigation, the landlord had sealed off access to the upper floors long ago without reopening it. The Countermeasures Department hadn’t dispatched anyone here either.

Who would willingly visit a haunted place?

This world didn’t have those reckless ghost-hunting live streams – such ventures literally got people killed.

The unexpected discovery weighed heavily on them as they squeezed through the gap and ascended to the nineteenth floor.

The nineteenth floor felt distinctly more oppressive. A cold wind whistled through the dust-choked hallway, where every door stood boarded shut.

Kanzaki Rin nudged Fang Cheng, directing his attention to the floor.

Footprints – chaotic, overlapping trails left by at least five people – marred the dusty surface.

Holy hell. Were there really idiots doing group exercises in a haunted building?

The tracks led straight to the stairwell accessing the top floor.

The top floor defied expectations. No dust lingered here. No eerie winds blew. Even the hallway lights functioned normally, illuminating spotless walls and floors that suggested regular maintenance.

The apparent normality was itself alarming. This was clearly where the lingering spirit roamed, its influence twisting the environment to mimic its living memories.

But it was all illusion. The surveillance drone outside still showed the top floor’s windows and doors sealed behind planks, yet Fang Cheng and Kanzaki Rin clearly saw unobstructed windows framing the moon through their night vision goggles. No spiritual entities appeared on their scanners. The footprints that had guided them here vanished abruptly.

Kanzaki Rin produced two prayer bead bracelets etched with sutras from her pocket, fastening one around her wrist. When Fang Cheng reached for the other, she calmly attached it to her stun gun’s barrel instead before taking point.

Fang Cheng stared.

Damn. She’d learned to play dirty.

The top floor’s few rooms stood mostly unlocked. They reached the final door at the hallway’s end, hearing faint noises from within.

Locked. Normally they’d need noisy lock-picking tools, but now they had Fang Cheng – the human lock opener. He drew his dagger, pricked his finger, and pressed the bleeding digit against the keyhole. His blood flowed inward, filling the mechanism before hardening through Steel Blood.

Crude but effective.

Kanzaki Rin positioned herself for optimal shooting angles. Standard procedure called for tear gas, but their spirit-hunting gear lacked such mundane tools.

Fang Cheng widened his finger wound. Blood pooled in his palm, coalescing into a javelin. He gripped the weapon and kicked the door open.

The brightly lit living room revealed three figures in monochrome uniforms forming a triangle around a blood-drawn circle. Gruesome remains occupied the circle’s center, alongside a translucent girl with long hair. Battle scars marked the walls. In one corner lay Sato Hayato, bound and gagged.

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The intruders had been reciting from black-bound texts when the door crashed open. Fang Cheng processed the scene instantly.

He lunged inside, arm snapping back like a trebuchet. The spear left his hand with a whine.

The lead cultist barely twitched before the projectile impaled him, pinning his corpse to the far wall.

As the remaining two froze in shock, Kanzaki Rin fired her stun gun. Crackling electricity dropped the second cultist in spasms.

The survivor dove behind a sofa, frantically reciting from his tome. His skin desiccated as he chanted, middle-aged features withering into elderly frailty within seconds – decades of lifespan burning away.

Fang Cheng’s third blood-javelin formed as the air rippled with an emerging shadow.