I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

Hearing Zhang Yangqing's question, the repairman didn't look up and continued, "The butler only appears when the mistress is around. You can't find him at other times. If you want to find him, you might as well wait for the mistress to come back."

After tidying up, the repairman went to the laundry room to wash and change Zhang Yangqing's clothes. Then, as agreed, he took Zhang Yangqing to the eighth floor to find a usable surveillance camera in the storage room.

When I got to the vicinity of the toilet on the eighth floor, all I could see was black smoke.

The black mist was so thick, it was like ink seeping from the walls, filling the entire corridor.

From this angle, it looks like you can see something floating in the toilet.

Those things, one by one, round, like eyeballs, slowly rotated in the darkness.

What are they looking for? What are they searching for? Their eyes sweep across the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Once they find their target, they'll probably start staring at it like crazy.

Zhang Yangqing could sense a very powerful spiritual force emanating from those eyeballs, spreading in waves like ripples on water.

If you were to be stared at by them, you would probably be trapped inside, your consciousness dragged into some unknown place, and your body turned into an empty shell.

The repairman clearly noticed this as well, stopping in his tracks with a deep frown: "What's going on? Why is there a Shining here? This is going to be difficult, let's take it slow."

Zhang Yangqing asked, "Why are they called Flash Spirits?"

The repairman said, "These guys are special, eerie creatures. They mainly torture people. Their eyes blink, so they are called 'shining spirits.' They don't kill people, but they are more terrifying than killing people. People targeted by them will be trapped in their own nightmares, repeating the most painful memories over and over again until they have a mental breakdown."

He paused, then added, "This kind of thing didn't exist here before; I don't know where it came from."

Zhang Yangqing nodded. "Understood. Wait here for a moment, I'll go get some people to help."

The repairman remained silent, seemingly aware that Zhang Yangqing had strong connections and didn't need him to say anything.

Zhang Yangqing turned and left, going up to the ninth floor.

The door to the psychic's room was still open, and the faint scent of sandalwood still lingered inside.

Four or five people sat cross-legged on the floor, their eyes closed, watching the beads, needles, and stones in front of them move slowly.

Zhang Yangqing walked in and stood among them.

Their eyes snapped open, and they all stared at Zhang Yangqing, waiting for him to speak.

These guys were eerily calm, their faces completely expressionless.

Zhang Yangqing tried to take out the harmonica and twirled it in his hand.

This time there were no clues. He didn't know if there was any connection between the harmonica and the telekinetic user; it was purely guesswork.

But to his surprise, he noticed that one of the red-haired psychics had widened his eyes, his pupils slightly contracted, and was staring intently at the harmonica in his hand, as if he had seen something he really wanted.

Zhang Yangqing spoke up, saying in a friendly tone, "I'm doing something for the mistress. There are a few spirits blocking the way on the eighth floor. Whoever can handle this will be rewarded, and I will also report their merits to the mistress."

As soon as he finished speaking, a red-haired psychic appeared in front of Zhang Yangqing.

He was sitting in the corner just moments ago, but now he's standing next to Zhang Yangqing. There was no movement or sound of him walking; it was as if he teleported, silent and incredibly fast.

The red-haired psychic smiled and said seriously to Zhang Yangqing, "I'll handle it. I can deal with Shining. Actually, I don't want any reward. Serving the mistress is my duty."

This remark earned him disdainful looks from his "colleagues."

Some people scoffed, some rolled their eyes, some shook their heads, and some simply closed their eyes, too lazy to look at him.

They all knew what kind of person this kid was; he said one thing but meant another.

But they also knew that this kid was indeed capable, so they just looked down on him and no one stepped forward to take his place.

If it were anyone else, they would definitely keep a certain distance from this red-haired psychic.

This guy is hypocritical and sweet-talking; he's definitely unreliable.

Zhang Yangqing is different; he likes guys like that.

He felt this guy was very "alive," so lifelike, like a real person. The more opportunistic someone is, the better they are at judging people; the better they are at talking, the faster their mind works.

Zhang Yangqing's attitude towards the leader was completely different from before; he got along very well with this red-haired psychic.

He patted the red-haired psychic on the shoulder, his tone relaxed: "Alright, then it's you."

On the way to the eighth floor, the red-haired psychic walked beside Zhang Yangqing, his eyes constantly scrutinizing him: "You're quite something, kid. You're so young and you're already working for the mistress. How long have you been under her? What do you do?"

Zhang Yangqing said, "When dealing with troubles that the mistress doesn't want to see, who are you on your side?"

The red-haired psychic said, "We psychics are all under the Fifth Young Master's command, and of course, we are also the Mistress's most loyal lackeys."

He spoke these words in a very natural tone, without the slightest hesitation or shame, as if he were talking about a very honorable identity.

This sentence perfectly captures his personality.

They have no moral bottom line, but are absolutely loyal.

It seems contradictory, but it's also a survival skill.

You can't find any fault with this kid in his words or actions.

Yes, he was cunning, but he didn't say anything wrong, do anything wrong, or offend anyone.

The two arrived at the location of the toilet on the eighth floor.

The repairman was still standing there, leaning against the wall, holding his toolbox.

His eyes lit up when he saw Zhang Yangqing return with the red-haired psychic.

He had seen telekinetics before, but there weren't many people who could command them.

The fact that they were willing to put aside their own affairs and come along shows that Zhang Yangqing is someone they value highly.

The repairman didn't say much, just nodded, his gaze lingering on the red-haired psychic for a moment before he stepped aside.

The red-haired psychic walked to the toilet door, raised his hand towards the churning black mist.

His fingers were long and slender, with a faint light flickering at the tips—this was his stance, or rather, a provocation.

The eyeballs in the black mist sensed his presence; they stopped rotating and all turned to face him.

Dozens of eyes and gazes fell upon him at the same time.

The sense of oppression was so strong that the repairman took several steps back, and the lights in the corridor flickered a few times.

The red-haired psychic did not retreat; he drew a circle in the air with his finger, and a vortex appeared inside the circle.

The vortex wasn't large, but its suction was very strong. The black gas was sucked in little by little, like water being poured into a sewer.

Those eyeballs began to struggle, began to resist.

Their light grew brighter, their mental energy became more concentrated, and they surged in waves, circling around the red-haired psychic.

The red-haired psychic swayed slightly, but quickly regained his balance.

He gritted his teeth and raised his other hand, controlling both hands simultaneously.

At this moment, perhaps in a place unseen by Zhang Yangqing and the audience, the red-haired psychic was battling Shining.

They may decide their victory or defeat in a special 'spiritual world'.

The red-haired psychic's mental strength was significantly greater than that of the Shining; he could have easily killed some of them, but he didn't.

He was on the defensive, waiting, wearing down his opponent, and trying to lure them into his trap.

The red-haired psychic waited a long time, not knowing what was happening in the mental world, until the rotation of those eyeballs slowed down and their light dimmed, before he made his move. (End of Chapter)