The Ninth Secret Bureau

The vests were special bulletproof armor reinforced with a large metal plate at the center. It’s also engraved with taoist symbols so that spirits couldn’t attach themselves to the wearer.

The weapons as well, they’re all specially crafted for their use during these missions. And the bullets, it’s hollow inside and packed with a secret mineral powder that explodes upon contact. Then there were the knives. Supposedly the blades had been baptized by clerics from the Vatican Church, thus allowing the wielder to slay supernatural creatures of lore.

Just by looking at their arsenal Idle could tell these agents had come prepared to the teeth.

“What were you doing hanging around over there?” Fatty Ho asks after seeing the young man had returned.

Shrugging, he casually explains with nonchalance: “I was counting the number of spirits there are.” Then fumbling his chin, he made a face like he found something incredible. “But I couldn’t see a soul in sight after doing a round. Maybe they’re all hiding inside the hospital?”

Without surprise, Fatty Ho and his men got all quiet like a blanket just dropped over their heads.

After a long while of this awkward silence, the fatty gathers his courage to ask what everyone was thinking: “How many do you think is inside?”

“Not sure, but it will be equal to the number of people that died here that’s for sure.” Idle casually wrinkled his nose and carefully sniffed the air. Using a heavy voice, he grew serious, “A lot of people died in there you know. When I arrived, I couldn’t tell for certain due to the flames, but now I can smell the heavy stench of death like we’ve stepped onto a massive grave pit.”

Fatty Ho didn’t show much of a strong reaction once he heard this; after all, he’s the senior agent present so he knew everything from the start. On the other hand though, the rest of the authorities present weren’t so calm and started to get cold feet as the nervousness struck their spines.

It couldn’t be helped. At the end of the day they are investigators and not exterminators. Rarely do they have to deal with these special cases about spirits and such.

“Is there anything to say before we go in?” Fatty Ho glances over to the hospital entrance representing the maul of hell itself, “such as paying attention to specifics or taboos…”

“Mmm, what is the main focus of this operation?” Idle asks, wanting to confirm their main objective before heading inside.

“Search and retrieve the key.”

“In that case, only you need to come with me. The others remain out here.” Idle raises a hand and scratches his nose with a hint of irritation due to the stench, “The air of death is too heavy. With that many spirits roaming about, I won’t be able to safely secure everyone if so many follow. One is my limit.”