Chapter 169: Ghost Assistant (I)

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Chapter 169: Ghost Assistant (I)

Shang Ke stood in the System Space with his eyes closed, one hand pressed over his warm chest. His heart felt completely filled with happiness. Every moment he had shared with his lover remained crystal clear in his memory, transforming into boundless motivation to keep searching for him in the next world.

【Host, please prepare yourself. The next world is Difficult Mode.】

The System’s reminder interrupted Shang Ke’s thoughts.

“Let’s begin.” Without hesitation, Shang Ke stepped out of the Hundred Training Space and went to meet his next challenge.

Space rippled around him, and Shang Ke was quickly transported to another world.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a blood-soaked woman’s face. There were no eyeballs in her sockets, only two pitch-black holes from which several strands of viscous fluid slowly trickled.

“Ah!” Startled, Shang Ke shot backward and sent more than half his body straight into the wall.

He was not timid, but having a hideous female ghost appear without warning was enough to rattle even the strongest nerves.

The female ghost glanced sideways at him and said in a chilling voice, “We’re both ghosts. Do you really need to make such a fuss?”

With that, she floated away on her own.

Only then did Shang Ke have a chance to examine himself. Half his body was embedded in the wall, leaving only his head and parts of his arms and legs exposed. Obviously, he was in spirit form—or, more precisely, he was a ghost.

【Main Mission—revive within three months.】

Shang Ke: “Sorry, what did you just say? Revive?”

【Correct. Revive within three months.】

“System, did you catch a virus or something? My missions are supposed to make me die heroically, and now you want me to come back to life? How am I supposed to complete a mission this contradictory?!”

【The living can die, and the dead can return to life.】

Shang Ke: “…System, come out here. I promise I won’t kill you.”

As Shang Ke understood it, there were roughly three ways for a ghost to return to life. First, find a substitute victim and exchange that death for a chance at reincarnation. Second, forcibly seize a living person’s body. Third, borrow a newly dead body and return to life through it.

While he was thinking, the System added: 【Revival restrictions: 1. You may not find a substitute victim; 2. You may not seize the body of a living person; 3. When borrowing a corpse to return to life, you may not use the body of someone who died naturally at the end of their lifespan or someone who died from incurable severe injuries.】

He could understand the bans on substitute victims and stealing a living body, since both violated the System’s heroic principles. But why were there so many restrictions on borrowing a corpse as well?

【Possessing the body of someone who died peacefully at the end of their natural lifespan will be judged an immediate mission failure—one of the mission conditions is that Host may not die a peaceful death. Possessing the body of someone who died from incurable severe injuries will leave Host as a living corpse with no vital signs, which does not satisfy the mission requirements.】

Shang Ke had nothing to say to that.

【Special reminder: ghosts can be destroyed by talismans, occult arts, warding objects, and similar methods or artifacts. Host, please take care.】

Shang Ke: “…”

The System then began transmitting information about this world.

This was Planet Aurora, a technologically advanced and peaceful world where ordinary people generally lived in comfort, the entertainment industry flourished, and the arts were deeply valued. Most Aurorans did not believe in gods, demons, ghosts, or monsters; every paranormal event supposedly had a scientific explanation. Of course, disbelief did not mean such things did not exist. The living and the dead were separated by the boundary between yin and yang, making it difficult for ordinary people to encounter the world of ghosts. Only a tiny number possessed the ability to perceive or communicate across that divide, and in such an advanced age, they usually remained hidden among the general population.

The ghost Shang Ke had transmigrated into had an unknown identity, unknown cause of death, and unknown time of death. At night he could manifest a physical form, and he could move objects with his mind. Sunlight did not frighten him, although prolonged exposure was harmful.

There was no other information. In other words, what Shang Ke needed to do now was find a suitable corpse and revive through it.

Since people who died naturally or from incurable severe injuries were excluded, his only viable targets were people who died suddenly—from cardiac arrest, mechanical asphyxiation, or something similar—and he had to possess the body immediately after death.

People died every day, but finding a sufficiently “fresh” corpse that met every condition at exactly the right moment was hardly easy.

Shang Ke floated out of the building and found a prosperous metropolis spread before him. Hovercars streamed through the sky, leaving dazzling trails of light. Skyscrapers rose between the crisscrossing streets, while holo-screens of every size continuously played film clips and creative advertisements.

He drifted above the city and scanned the surroundings, but saw no sign of any other ghosts. They probably preferred not to come out during the day.

While he was thinking, pleasant piano music suddenly floated from a nearby holo-screen. Following the sound, Shang Ke saw a formally dressed man seated before a black piano, completely absorbed in his playing. His posture was elegant and his aura cool and distant, as though he stood apart from the rest of the world and existed only for the music.

Shang Ke recognized him almost at a glance.

Shao Feidu—that was his name in this world.

Shang Ke immediately perked up and flew into an internet café to search for information on Shao Feidu. Born in September 5721, he was twenty-eight years old and possessed astonishing musical talent. At seven, he won an international youth piano competition. At fourteen, he embarked on a worldwide concert tour. At sixteen, he received the International Medal of Artistic Honor and was specially appointed to the International Music Association. By twenty-five, he was already recognized worldwide as a master pianist.

But after turning twenty-six, Shao Feidu suddenly vanished from public view. He rejected every performance invitation, and no one knew where he had gone.

Following the available clues, Shang Ke first located Shao Feidu’s manager, Mu Zhen, and through him eventually found the man he was looking for in a secluded villa.

Inside a piano room nearly two hundred square meters in size, Shao Feidu sat alone on a floor covered in sheet music. Pen and paper in hand, he alternated between thinking and writing, utterly absorbed in his composition.

Shang Ke floated over without making a sound, crouched beside him, and watched him compose.

Shao Feidu’s movements abruptly stopped. The muscles in his face tightened, his eyes fixed rigidly on the paper in his hand, and his entire body went stiff.

Shang Ke failed to notice anything unusual. When Shao Feidu remained motionless for a long time, he finally asked in puzzlement, “What’s wrong?”

Shao Feidu suddenly rose and strode quickly out of the piano room.

Shang Ke hurried after him.

His assistant, Gibbs, was waiting outside. When he saw Shao Feidu emerge, he asked, “Young Master Shao, do you need anything?”

Without saying a word, Shao Feidu walked to the living room, sat on the sofa, and switched on the 3D holo-screen.

Shang Ke promptly sat beside him and watched television with him.

Gibbs poured Shao Feidu a cup of hot tea, then glanced at the screen. A ridiculous variety show was playing. He could not help wondering when Young Master Shao had developed an interest in this kind of program.

He did not ask. Shao Feidu had mild autism and was usually quiet and withdrawn. Apart from music, almost nothing seemed capable of holding his attention.

Ten minutes later, Shang Ke looked at the man beside him. “Doesn’t sitting like this get tiring? Have some tea, or maybe some fruit?”

Shao Feidu stared straight ahead, sitting as rigidly as a mountain.

Bored, Shang Ke reached out to poke Shao Feidu’s clenched fist, only for his finger to pass straight through it. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he saw the veins on the back of Shao Feidu’s hand bulge several times.

Can he see me? Shang Ke raised an arm and waved it up and down in front of Shao Feidu’s eyes.

Shao Feidu did not even blink.

Shang Ke leaned closer and began making grotesque ghost faces at him. A ghost’s scary face was no minor thing—blood streamed from all seven orifices, his complexion turned blue-green, and fangs protruded from his mouth, as though some horror-movie sound effect ought to accompany the sight.

Shao Feidu kept his face taut and his entire body rigid. A drop of cold sweat silently slid down his temple.

“Do you think I’m handsome?” Shang Ke asked, enunciating every word.

Shao Feidu: “…”

The cold sweat on his forehead began multiplying into streams.

“If you still won’t speak, I’ll tear my face off and put it over yours,” Shang Ke threatened in an eerie voice.

Shao Feidu still said nothing.

Shang Ke placed both hands on top of his head. “I’m really going to tear it off, you know?”

Shao Feidu’s brows twitched several times. His gaze had gone unfocused, with no fixed point at all.

From beginning to end, he had not once looked directly at Shang Ke, which made Shang Ke rather unhappy.

“You obviously can see me. Why are you pretending you can’t?” Shang Ke suddenly pulled his own head off and hurled it at Shao Feidu.

Shao Feidu sprang to his feet and walked stiffly toward his assistant.

Gibbs was organizing files on his computer. When Shao Feidu suddenly stalked toward him with a murderous expression, he hurriedly stood in alarm.

Shao Feidu stopped beside him and simply stood there without moving.

“Y-Young Master Shao, what’s wrong?” Gibbs asked nervously.

At nearly two meters tall, Shao Feidu towered over the one-hundred-seventy-centimeter Gibbs like a mountain, his shadow alone enough to blot out the light.

Shao Feidu acted as though he had not heard the question and remained planted there like a post.

Shang Ke picked up his head, held it directly in front of Gibbs’s face, and said, “Tell Young Master Shao that if he keeps pretending he can’t see me, I’ll eat you.”

Gibbs had no idea a severed head was hovering inches from his nose, glaring at him with two blood-soaked eyes.

Shao Feidu’s lips moved several times, but no words came out.

Gibbs had no idea whether he should sit or stand and felt unbearably awkward. Worse, Shao Feidu was like a walking freezer, radiating such a bone-deep chill that Gibbs’s hands and feet went numb. This had happened more than once. No matter how high the heating was turned up, the temperature plummeted whenever Shao Feidu approached.

Gibbs secretly decided he would resign next month. If this continued, sooner or later the stress would drive him insane. He had originally chosen to become Shao Feidu’s assistant not only because the salary was generous, but also because of Shao Feidu’s fame. But after Shao Feidu injured his fingers two years ago and could no longer perform, Gibbs gradually began neglecting his duties.

Ding-dong, ding-dong… Just then, the alarm on Gibbs’s phone rang. He nearly wept with relief. Glancing at the time, he hurriedly said, “Young Master Shao, the housekeeper will be bringing dinner over soon, so I’ll head out first.”

With that, Gibbs gathered his things at lightning speed and shot out of the villa. Any other employer would probably have berated an assistant for behavior this rude, but Shao Feidu rarely showed anger even when people slighted him.

Shang Ke had also begun to sense that something was wrong. He put his head back on, restored his complexion, stopped the bleeding, and made his voice normal again. Looking heartbreakingly beautiful, he said to Shao Feidu, “I won’t scare you anymore. How about we become friends?”

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