Why are all of us who transmigrated at the same time demons?

Seeing that the atmosphere was just right, Ling Miaomiao and Sister Quan followed behind Brother Long, pushed open the rusty door, and entered the ancient building that had been closed for nearly 50 years.

The ancient building was eerie, exuding a sense of decay. As Ling Miaomiao and her companions walked through it, they saw broken furniture and mottled walls everywhere. They could even see some dark brown radial marks, which some viewers had already guessed were traces of blood.

Ling Miaomiao led the group into a spacious hall, which had already been cleaned by officials, but the old bloodstains that had seeped into the floor could not be removed.

“This is where the Qi family held their family gathering back then,” Brother Long introduced, his tone tinged with sadness. “On New Year’s Eve that year, the entire Qi family gathered here for their New Year’s Eve dinner, and then that tragedy broke out. You can still vaguely see the scene of the tragedy from the bloodstains on the ground. My maternal grandparents, my eldest uncle, my second uncle, my third uncle, and other relatives all died here.”

"Please accept our condolences," Ling Miaomiao and Sister Quan comforted her.

Brother Long chuckled lightly: "I'm not that sad. My mother was only six years old when that tragedy happened, and even now she can't remember what my maternal grandparents looked like. As for me, I've never even met my maternal grandparents or my uncles and aunts. To say I'm sad is more like saying I'm feeling sentimental."

"So, what exactly happened to the Qi family on New Year's Eve?" Ling Miaomiao made a clever eye-covering gesture to change the subject.

“It’s a serial murder case!” Sister Quan pushed up her glasses. “I once looked up similar information when I was compiling local chronicles. The police system’s files clearly record that this was a family annihilation murder case. There were three perpetrators, all from out of town, who were extremely vicious. Two of them were arrested shortly after committing the crime, but the whereabouts of the remaining one are still unknown.”

"Based on the police's speculation, the remaining one is probably already dead," Brother Long added, concluding the story.

Walking through the former crime scene, although it still felt rather eerie and terrifying, the three remained completely calm. They were all insiders and knew that the paranormal investigation department had already thoroughly investigated and cleared the area of ​​any ghosts, so they were extremely relaxed.

"Ling Miaomiao is really brave!"

"Yeah, if I walked here, my legs would go weak with fear."

"Brother Long and Sister Quan are not ordinary people either."

"Just mentioning the murder case from back then terrifies me, yet they were able to chat so freely at the scene."

"What is that?"

"Wow, meow meow, look behind you!"

"There really is a ghost here."

"Run, child!"

Ling Miaomiao's expression changed, and she, Long Ge, and Quan Jie quickly turned around. At this moment, on the altar at the far end of the hall, a terrifying humanoid monster with a completely black body, blood-red hands, and a face as white as snow was squatting!

The Bloodhand Ghost stared intently at Ling Miaomiao and the other two with its eerie, green-glowing eyes. Suddenly, it opened its large mouth full of sharp teeth and let out a shrill laugh that sounded like the cry of a baby.

Ling Miaomiao and the other two were terrified. Without thinking, they quickly shut down the live stream. News of the ghost couldn't be allowed to spread, or it would bring disaster—a lesson learned the hard way in the supernatural world. Then, they took out their respective protective talismans. These were a perk provided to them, peripheral personnel, by the Supernatural Bureau. They could temporarily ward off ghost attacks while awaiting the Bureau's rescue, but only for Class C and D talismans; Class B talismans were practically useless.

At this time, the Paranormal Bureau had quickly received the news. In accordance with the corresponding contingency plan, professional network personnel had begun to control online public opinion, while field personnel were immediately dispatched for rescue.

"Damn it, that's not a ghost at all, that's an out-of-control Ghost Master!" Ma Lu, the captain of the field support team 1, was a little agitated. With his rich experience, he quickly recognized the true form of the black-bodied, blood-handed monster. "Which idiot Ghost Master escaped into the Qi Family Ancient Building and went out of control!"

At this critical moment, Huang Qiyuan, the director of the Supernatural Bureau of Fuyin City, was staring intently at the large screen in the bureau's analysis room, especially at the blood-red hands of the out-of-control ghost tamer on the screen.

With his sharp eyesight and memory, he quickly compared the shape of the hand with the bloody handprint belonging to the Death Wraith in the file. It was similar! It really was similar!

"Quickly! Notify Li Xiao and have him lead Team 2 to support Ma Lu! Give him the file on the 'Deadbeat'! Also, Ma Li, go and connect me to Director Chen's internal hotline in Jiannan City. Tell him I have something important to discuss with him," Huang Qiyuan roared.

Watching Ma Li move swiftly, Huang Qiyuan gritted his teeth uneasily. A terrible possibility echoed in his mind: No way! Please don't let it be!

Chapter 179 Supernatural Revival: The Ghost Master

Beside Huang Qiyuan, Loran, the employee in charge of image file processing in the analysis room, looked up and scrutinized Huang Qiyuan's anxious expression.

If you want to understand the general picture of this world, the fastest way, besides the internet, is through official documentation.

However, not everything is available online, because there is a vast amount of information in the world that can only be found in paper documents and cannot circulate online.

Therefore, Loran began to investigate the official agencies in this world that handle paranormal events, starting naturally with the government and police systems. For a large organization to function properly and extensively intervene in extraordinary events in a region, it's impossible to operate without the cooperation of these two systems. Thus, Loran easily learned of the existence of the Paranormal Bureau from the police chief.

The Paranormal Bureau is very mysterious. This part belongs to the military, and its logistics, funding, and personnel allocation are all handled through classified channels. Therefore, the police chief has only dealt with a portion of the Paranormal Bureau's liaison personnel. However, this information is enough for Loran to pinpoint the location of the Paranormal Bureau.

The paranormal bureau was located in the suburbs, next to a local military base. Loran disguised himself as a staff member of the paranormal bureau and managed to sneak in.

Using internal documents from the Supernatural Bureau of Fuyin City, Loran quickly established a relatively detailed cognitive model of this world.

Ghost, a word that permeates the culture of the Great Xia Kingdom.

Traces of "ghosts" have existed since the time of our ancient ancestors. Signs of ghosts can be seen in every dynasty, although they were more rampant in some eras than in others.

The Great Xia Dynasty is currently in a period of rampant ghost activity, which the authorities describe as a "suppression of the supernatural" and a "suppression of the supernatural."

The ghosts active in the Great Xia Dynasty were even more terrifying than the legends. These were truly terrifying ghost stories that were not allowed to circulate among the common people in the Great Xia Dynasty. Through research, it seems that the activity of a ghost is mysteriously related to its popularity.

The Great Xia Dynasty categorized ghosts into two types: "Chang Gui" and "Ling Gui." "Ling Gui" is closer to a distorted, rule-based entity or a calamity caused by ghosts and gods, and each "Ling Gui" is a calamity-level ghost. "Chang Gui," on the other hand, is often a ghost derived from the influence of "Ling Gui" or some mysterious factor, and its form is closer to the ghosts in folk legends.

Newly born "Chang Gui" are often just the lowest-level Ding-class ghosts, but Chang Gui will continue to grow stronger. However, the Bing-class ghost is the upper limit of "Chang Gui". In order to continue to grow stronger, "Chang Gui" must merge with or even derive the characteristics of "Ling Gui", which is the so-called "Chang Gui-Ling Gui" fusion.

The fusion of "Changgui-Linggui" is usually a Class B or even Class A ghost, which is very rare.

The reason why the Ghost Realm is prone to giving rise to calamity-level great ghosts is that the gathering of ghosts increases the probability of the cou ghosts developing "commanding ghost characteristics", thus giving birth to pure "commanding ghosts".

The birth of each "spirit" signifies a catastrophic ritual, and such terrifying disasters are firmly recorded in history books, though they are often covered up as natural or man-made calamities such as droughts, fires, floods, or wars.

The so-called "ghost tamer" refers to a human who uses a human body to contain and control ghosts. After fighting with ghosts for so long, many forces have summarized their experience and methods of containing and controlling ghosts. At the same time, some people have survived ghost attacks by chance and managed to control ghosts by chance.

The extraordinary ability of a Ghost Master is unstable. According to research by relevant individuals, a Ghost Master essentially turns his body into a miniature artificial ghost realm. Although this method can accommodate multiple ghosts and stabilize the ghost realm through the balance and restraint between the ghosts, the human body will eventually collapse over time, just like the ghost realm in the real world.

Moreover, the ghosts that emerge from a human's body become increasingly powerful and troublesome. Many ghost tamers who cannot accommodate a second ghost often do not live more than three years.

However, the power of demon tamers is indispensable to humans. Humans may still have ways to restrain D-level and C-level demons with some modern methods, but once a demon advances to B-level and begins to develop "commanding demon characteristics", it becomes difficult to kill these demons with modern methods, and often the power of demons is needed to fight them.

This is essentially a short-sighted approach, like drinking poison to quench thirst. According to calculations by relevant research institutions, relying on the devouring of ghosts to kill the spirits will eventually give birth to an ultimate ghost. No... perhaps we don't even need to wait for the birth of the last ultimate ghost. Some powerful spirits hundreds or thousands of years from now may have the power to destroy human civilization.

"Human civilization is built on a volcano that will erupt sooner or later."

Loran flipped through the internal documents of the Paranormal Bureau—"An Introduction to Paranormal Studies," an internal training material published by the authoritative institution for paranormal research in China for training employees of the Paranormal Bureau. This sentence was printed at the beginning of the prologue of this textbook.

"Constantly devouring and eventually merging into an ultimate monster that brings about the apocalypse—this premise sounds so familiar!" Loran remarked.

Huang Qiyuan nervously began to call Director Chen of the Jiannan Supernatural Bureau, pleading for help.

Working across borders without orders from superiors is a major taboo. The Paranormal Bureau itself belongs to the military system, and its dispatching is even more stringent. Director Chen hesitated after hearing Huang Qiyuan's request.

But after hearing Huang Qiyuan say that there was a ghost tamer in Fuyin City who was suspected of losing control of a Class A ghost, Director Chen couldn't sit still any longer.

There is only one person in the entire country capable of controlling a calamity-level ghost, and the process of his containment is nothing short of a miracle, impossible to replicate. Moreover, that person's current condition is quite poor, and the country spends a great deal of manpower and resources every year trying to slow down the loss of control of the vengeful spirit within him.

Therefore, Class A ghosts can be considered the pinnacle that a Ghost Master can control.

A Class A Ghost Master going out of control is more terrifying than a simple Class A ghost, because this Class A ghost is essentially nurtured by the Ghost Master, a small ghost realm, making its ghostly characteristics even stronger. Furthermore, the various negative emotions generated when the Ghost Master goes out of control will make the vengeful ghost more aggressive towards humans.

The most serious problem is that researchers concluded that this Class A vengeful ghost was related to the Niutou Mountain Ghost Realm, which is a huge problem.

Humans have observed a phenomenon involving vengeful spirits: their transfer within the ghost realm. This phenomenon is extremely rare. Firstly, the formation of the ghost realm itself is rare, and secondly, the ghost realm exists in a fragile state of equilibrium. Any significant change in a vengeful spirit can cause the collapse of the ghost realm itself. Therefore, the transfer of vengeful spirits between ghost realms is extremely rare.

However, as mentioned before, the body of a ghost tamer can be regarded as a small ghost realm. If someone controls a fierce ghost in a certain ghost realm, then that person will establish a connection with that ghost realm. The fierce ghost in the original ghost realm may then move between the original ghost realm and the human ghost realm through this connection.

In other words, this Ghost Master has become a mobile, large-scale ghost realm that could explode at any moment. Not to mention that this Ghost Master is about to completely lose control, which is equivalent to drilling a hole in the original large ghost realm, with the opening of the hole being the Ghost Master's body.

This is also why the supernatural world explicitly forbids those who control ghosts from commanding vengeful spirits in the ghost realm and considers it a taboo.

If the out-of-control ghost tamer in the Qi Family Haunted Building is indeed controlling the Death-Summoning Ghost, and that Death-Summoning Ghost is indeed related to the Niu Tou Village Ghost Realm as the researchers have said, then it's as if the exit of the Niu Tou Village Ghost Realm is located in the Qi Family Haunted Building, and terrifying and vengeful ghosts from within the Ghost Realm could crawl out from it at any time.

Huang Qiyuan's scalp tingled at this thought. Damn it! The Qi Family Ghost Building was built on the edge of the old city of Fuyin City. Wasn't that a big difference from opening the exit of the Ghost Realm inside Fuyin City?

"You son of a bitch! Don't let me find out who that bastard who defied the ban and rode the Death Demon is! Otherwise, I'll hang his whole family up and whip them. Who told you to raise such a wretched creature!"

Huang Qiyuan thought angrily.

Chapter 180 Supernatural Revival: A Mad Elegy

Two months ago? Perhaps it was two months, or perhaps it was a fleeting moment frozen in amber. In the heart of Rongcheng, the swollen, pus-filled, neon-lit heart of Pingjiang Province, Yu Wuxia sat regally in a luxurious club called "Drunken Life, Dreamlike Death."

He was like a jade sculpture just unearthed from a thousand-year-old ice tomb, his skin a deathly white soaked in moonlight, or like a sheet of Xuan paper drained of all life, so thin that you could see the dark blue, slowly writhing veins underneath.

That whiteness wasn't human whiteness; it was the whiteness of bones licked by vengeful ghosts, the whiteness of the belly of a blind fish in the deep sea, where the sun never shines.

He sat there, the surrounding glitz and clamor seemingly blocked by an invisible, viscous membrane, the sounds distorted into the gurgling of distant underwater bubbles bursting.

His movements were precise, cold, and lifeless. Not elegant, but like a sophisticated instrument executing a pre-programmed sequence. The moment the corkscrew pierced the cork, it made a soft "pop," but to Yu Wuxia's ears, it was amplified infinitely, like the sharp sound of a skull being shattered by a sharp instrument.

The deep red wine poured out into the stemmed glass. Under the hazy, shifting lights, the liquid had an eerie viscosity, unlike the fragrance of grape juice, more like... congealed, aged blood clots forcibly dissolved, releasing a nauseating stench of rust and rotten sweetness.

Not far away, there is the projection of hell on earth.

His "colleagues"—this group of undead known as "Demon Slayers"—are partying.

Seeking pleasure? No, that's too frivolous; it's a blasphemous sacrificial act!

The air was filled with an overwhelming, cloyingly sweet perfume scent, the smell of evaporating alcohol, and... an indescribable, pungent stench that seemed to emanate from the very source of life itself.

The light was distorted; the colorful spotlights, like countless slippery venomous snakes, danced wildly in the swirling smoke, stretching the figures into grotesque and deformed silhouettes.

Their limbs were intertwined on the sofa, like wet sea anemones exposed to the sun after the tide has receded, secreting mucus and greedily absorbing all the warmth they could touch. Their naked skin glistened oily in the eerie light, like a layer of snakeskin about to peel off.

They poured expensive liquids down their throats, like pouring lubricant into a rusty machine, just to make this already numb body "function" briefly and falsely.

Their eyes were cloudy and empty, with an inhuman, insatiable hunger burning deep within their pupils—a hunger for stimulation, for pain, for the last spark of sensory experience that could prove they still "existed."

The more senior the elders, the more decaying their aura and the more like walking coffins they are, the more horrifying their behavior becomes.

Some people press burning cigars onto their companions' pale arms, making a hissing sound and emitting blue smoke and a burnt smell, while the victims let out almost pleasurable sighs; others use their diamond-encrusted fingernails to cut through expensive silk, leaving winding trails of blood on the delicate skin of the person beneath them, licking the crimson from their fingertips, their eyes glazed over as if they were falling into an abyss.

They are living graves, walking coffins.

The fate of demon slayers? A life of constant uncertainty? Ha! They are cursed vessels, containing terrors that do not belong to this mortal world.

Every second, the foreign creature residing within them gnaws at their flesh and blood, sucks their souls, peeling away, chewing up, and swallowing the very essence of "living." Touch? Taste? Smell? Hearing? Sight? They are like cheap paint soaked in water, blurring and fading on a canvas called "Flawless Jade," ultimately leaving only blurry, distorted, and unreal outlines. Numbness is the norm, a gasp on the edge of the abyss.

In order to fight against this eternal nothingness, and in order to grasp a sliver of the illusion of "I think, therefore I am" before they are completely reduced to puppets of vengeful ghosts, they must throw themselves into a more intense, more filthy, and more profane sensory furnace!

Are they born followers of Slaanesh? No, they are the flawed and tormented projection of Slaanesh himself on earth! They are the abyss torn open in the material plane, flowing with pus and blood!

On this cursed land, which of the so-called "top families" is not built upon piles of bones and the wailing of vengeful spirits? Their foundation is not gold, nor power, but the freshest flesh and soul of their own people, sacrificed to vengeful ghosts!

Demon Slayer? What a grand and prestigious title.

Strip away this facade, how are they different from the young boys and girls who were sacrificed to the river god in ancient times? The ancients sacrificed children to pray for vague and ethereal good weather and abundant harvests; while they were pushed into the embrace of vengeful ghosts by their own loved ones, exchanging the eternal torment of their souls and the continuous decay of their bodies for the pitiful and pathetic "protective power" of their families in the mortal world.

They are living sacrifices, the eternal flames burning with their own flesh and blood on the family altar.

Jade without flaws is the most exquisite yet most painful offering on the vast altar of the Yu family in Rongcheng.

His father? The current "head" of the Yu family? No, he is the high priest who presided over this sacrifice. The Yu family keeps two "guardian beasts": one remains in the old lair, which is his cousin, and the other is chained to the authorities and driven by others, which is none other than Yu Wuxia.

Not long ago, the "high priest" told him in a voice as cold as the wind in a tomb that his little nephew, Yu Meichen, that flower bud that had not yet fully bloomed, had been chosen, and the family was "carefully selecting" a suitable vengeful ghost for him.

Selecting? What a gentle lie! It's like a butcher selecting lambs for slaughter at the market, then hypocritically asking the lambs if they prefer a particular cut.

Yu Wuxia abruptly raised her wine cup and poured the expensive, ominous crimson liquid down her throat. The swallowing motion was mechanical and rapid, her Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a dying fish struggling in a swamp.

Taste buds? They had long since withered and died under the erosion of the vengeful ghost.

Rich? Fragrant? Layered? All of these are distant memories belonging to another species. The liquid slid down my esophagus, leaving only a cold, rough sensation, like swallowing a polished shard of glass.

Resentment? Anger? These burning emotions couldn't even be ignited by a spark. His emotional system, like a precision instrument cracked by extreme cold, was completely paralyzed.

The family's "supreme" philosophy—honor? responsibility? Those words, repeatedly instilled like a spell, echoed in his empty skull, yet failed to stir even a ripple.

He didn't understand, he never truly understood. He was like a perfect, exquisite marionette, chosen from childhood and repeatedly polished. He observed the expressions of those around him, their joy, their sorrow, their anger, and then imitated them perfectly.

His acting skills were enough to deceive even the gods and the "relatives" who pushed him into the abyss.

The torrent of brainwashing washed over him, but only left futile watermarks on the hard and smooth "flawed" shell of his mind.

However... his nephew's existence was like a long needle coated with ice poison, piercing his numb shell and penetrating his previously untouched, dark and cold core!

This word, carrying an unprecedented, sharp, soul-tearing fear, exploded on the frozen ice field of his mind! He did not understand the warmth of "unity," nor the weight of "honor," but he instinctively, animalistically, understood the meaning of "abandonment"!

That is a nothingness more complete than death! It is falling into an eternal, absolutely desolate abyss that even vengeful ghosts would disdain! The family has no need for two tools that are about to become obsolete.

The new, fresh offerings are ready. His old vessel, riddled with cracks and about to be completely shattered by the vengeful spirit, should be ruthlessly discarded in the garbage heap called "useless," quietly awaiting its final disintegration!

This fear was so pure, so primal, so powerful! It even overwhelmed the fear that tormented him day and night, brought about by the two evil spirits residing within him—the never-ending whispering curses of the Telephone Ghost and the constant writhing of the Pseudo-Shape Ghost, which seemed to want to tear his skin apart!

The instinct for survival, within this body that had already been sentenced to death, emitted its most mournful and desperate scream!

"No...no..." Yu Wuxia's teeth chattered slightly between her deathly pale lips, making a faint sound like the grinding of broken bones. Her cold fingers gripped the empty wine glass tightly, her knuckles turning a corpse-like bluish-gray from the force.

"To survive...I must...get better...value...greater value..."

For the first time, his eyes, those two cold, black glass beads embedded in his pale face, began to spin violently, frantically scanning the twisted and decadent scene before him, as if piercing through the walls and gazing into some unknown, forbidden, dark direction.

"A vengeful ghost... a stronger vengeful ghost... I must accept it... I must accept it!" This thought, like a frenzied vine, instantly coiled around his entire consciousness, almost suffocating him. Only stronger power! Only by proving he still had "usefulness"! Only then could he avoid ultimate abandonment!

He stood up abruptly, his movements stiff. Behind him came several muffled shouts, tinged with drunkenness and discontent, as if they were coming through thick, frosted glass soaked in corpse oil.

Yu Wuxia ignored him and strode forward, like a puppet being pulled by invisible threads, toward the door of the clubhouse that was depicted with a distorted carnival pattern.

The clamor of debauchery behind him receded like the tide, isolated in another world.