My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

Zhang Ying pushed his phone screen towards the Taoist priest.

The screen went black, reflecting the Taoist priest's frozen face onto the reflective surface.

Zhang Ying's voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded like it was being ground out from between his teeth: "Taoist Master, can you tell me now why you, a tarot vendor, have my headshot and full ID information saved on your phone?"

He pulled his right hand out of his coat pocket, spread his fingers, and gently placed it on the velvet cloth on the stall table.

The Taoist priest's gaze fell on the hand, and he swallowed hard. "Young friend... let's talk this out!"

The Taoist priest's voice was still relatively steady, but he had already lifted his buttocks off the chair.

"Actually...actually I...damn!"

He pushed off the ground with both legs almost simultaneously, and his body leaned back.

He was going to smash the tarpaulin off the support and crawl out from the side. He didn't care about the stall; he just wanted to get away first!

His reaction was remarkably quick.

But Zhang Ying was faster!

The Taoist priest felt as soon as he turned around that a hand like an iron clamp grabbed the back of his collar.

He was lifted up, his toes brushing the ground, his knees instinctively trying to push forward, but after two attempts, he hit nothing.

Zhang Ying lifted the adult man, weighing over 100 pounds, out from behind the stall with one hand. His Taoist robe swayed in the air, and the peach wood sword slid down from behind and slammed onto the folding chair with a dull thud.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" The Taoist priest hung in mid-air, his hands frantically grabbing at his neck, trying to pull the collar out of his neck, but the fabric of the collar was already tightly digging into the sides of his Adam's apple, his voice was suppressed and thin, "Young friend, please put me down first—this humble Taoist is—this humble Taoist is—"

He didn't finish the second half of his sentence.

His right hand suddenly loosened its grip on his neck and swiftly reached inside his Taoist robe, his fingers finding a cold glass bottle in the inner pocket of his coat.

Zhang Ying's gaze was immediately drawn to the glass bottle. The bottle was empty, but in Zhang Yi's view, it emitted wisps of black mist.

He immediately activated his Evil Eyes and saw that the bottle was filled with black mist.

The Taoist priest gripped the bottle, placed his thumb on the edge of the cork, and flicked it outwards.

The stopper fell off, and the bottle opening was pointed directly at Zhang Ying's face.

Black gas gushed out from the bottle's mouth.

A rotten, sweet smell wafted out of the glass bottle and filled the entire hexagonal shed in less than half a second!

In Zhang Ying's gray vision, the black mist was rapidly shrinking in front of him, and a curled-up black shadow quickly took shape within it.

The dark figure was only the size of a child, with extremely thin and long limbs, and sharp, bony spurs protruding from its joints.

Zhang Yingsong dismissed the Taoist priest.

As his hand moved away from the Taoist priest's collar, it was already raised. With fingers spread, it grabbed the neck of the still-forming black shadow!

【Little Ghost】

[Ghost-level monster]

[Corresponding Ghost Story: None]

[Unconquerable]

【none】

Zhang Ying frowned as he looked at the information about the dark figure. A wandering spirit-level monster? Are there monsters even lower than earthbound spirits?

The texture of this little ghost was completely different from that of the upside-down ghost, whose skin was as smooth as rubber soaked in water. The little ghost's neck was rough and withered, as if you were pinching a piece of still-growing bone through a thin layer of tree bark.

The little ghost let out a shrill screech that was almost beyond the range of human hearing. Its two slender arms frantically pounded on Zhang Ying's wrists, its legs kicked wildly in mid-air, and its heels hit the edge of the stall, shaking the crystal ball off the wooden seat. The ball rolled to the edge of the tablecloth and shattered into several pieces on the ground.

Zhang Ying caught it in less than a breath.

He carefully examined the little monster's appearance.

The little ghost's face still retains traces of human features, but its initial assessment suggests it is no more than thirteen or fourteen years old!

He pressed the little ghost onto the stall table, turned around and roared, "Taoist Master, you—"

The purple curtains fluttered in the wind.

The stall owner has disappeared.

Outside the canopy was an empty street, with the roadside trees casting quiet shadows under the streetlights.

He looked down at his right hand, and the little ghost was gone.

Zhang Ying stood in the empty hexagonal shed, his right hand still hanging in mid-air in the position of choking someone's neck.

He slowly withdrew his hand and put it back in his coat pocket.

The Taoist priest had run away, abandoning his stall, but he still had his phone. He turned the priest's phone over; the background page had automatically locked, and the lock screen wallpaper was a picture of a Taoist temple.

When I pushed open the curtain and stepped out, there was indeed no one on the street.

That Taoist priest was able to disappear completely in less than a second; he certainly had the skill to escape.

He didn't go upstairs immediately, but stood by the hexagonal shed for a moment, going over the events of the day in his mind.

First it was the man in the black coat at the hospital, then it was the Taoist priest at the entrance of the residential area.

Although he didn't know where the two people came from, their intentions were very clear: they were after him.

Zhang Ying pushed open the door, closed the windows tightly, and drew the curtains. Then, standing by the window, he lifted a small gap in the curtains and glanced downstairs.

The purple hexagonal shed at the entrance of the residential area is still there, but no one goes near it under the streetlights.

He scanned the street one by one, making sure there were no suspicious figures. He closed the curtains, turned around, and walked to his desk to sit down.

Before he could find out more about the two people, he decided to reduce the frequency of going out.

With Li Ziqing watching over his mother, he wasn't worried. Having a monstrous creature of such high caliber protecting him was far more effective than calling the police.

When Zhang's mother returned home that evening, Zhang Ying was cooking dumplings in the kitchen.

The water in the pot was bubbling and steaming, and white mist rose up, obscuring the edges of the range hood.

He heard Zhang's mother changing her slippers in the living room, then she pushed open the kitchen door and peeked in: "Oh, you're cooking today? Did you know I was coming back and that's why you're pretending?"

A very faint, transparent outline was visible in the air half a step behind her.

Li Ziqing sidestepped past Zhang's mother, her skirt brushing against the corridor wall, and swayed lightly at the door of his bedroom as if to greet him before slipping into the room.

While eating, Zhang's mother was holding her bowl when she suddenly rubbed her arm.

"Has it gotten colder lately? It feels chilly around me." Zhang Ying picked up a dumpling, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and mumbled, "Maybe, Mom, wear more clothes."

After finishing their meal, Zhang Ying returned to his room and told Li Ziqing about his experiences that day. Li Ziqing said he would take precautions to protect Zhang's mother, and then left Zhang Ying's side to go to the school to maintain his own strength.

late at night.

All the lights in the house were off, and the only sound in the hallway was the low hum of the refrigerator compressor.

The bedroom curtains were drawn tightly shut, and a very thin orange line of streetlight shone through the gap in the curtains, running across the center of the ceiling.

Zhang Ying lay on the bed, the blanket only pulled up to his chest, with one hand outside the blanket.

His breathing had calmed down, his eyelids were closed, and his consciousness was drifting into the depths of sleep.

Ta-da! Ta-da!

Zhang Ying's eyes snapped open in the darkness.

He had been on high alert for nearly a month, which allowed him to go from deep sleep to full wakefulness in less than a second.

He slowly propped himself up and turned to look in the direction from which the sound came.

The orange streetlight was still shining through the gap in the curtains, but now there was a shadow in the very center of the light.

It was the shadow of a bird. It wasn't large, with two tufts of upright ear feathers on its head, and the outline of its head was cut into a rounded arc in the backlight.

He immediately became alert, carefully placed his hand on the curtain, and then suddenly pulled it open.

Moonlight spilled onto the windowsill.

An owl was standing outside the window, tilting its head to look at him.

He had a letter dangling from his mouth.