Sun Fatty looked around, then turned to glare at Zhao Minmin when he realized I was talking about him. "Yeah, I chopped his head off. So what?"
"You?" Zhao Minmin sneered. "You cut off the Ancestor Shaman's head? No offense, but you don't exactly look like you're capable of that."
"Whether I'm capable or not, talking won't prove it." Sun Fatty mimicked her tone and snorted. "Not to brag, but Ancestor Shaman? Please. I slice up ten of those a year. What's so special about him? Besides, he ambushed me underwater—half-human, half-ghost—I'm not exactly a pushover either. Blinded him with one stab and took his head clean off with the next."
He was a master storyteller, especially since he'd actually been there when Wu Rendi dragged half of the Ancestor Shaman's body out of the Water Curtain Cave. He simply swapped out the protagonist—himself for Wu Rendi—and told the tale as if he were the one who killed the Ancestor Shaman. He made it sound vivid and convincing.
Zhao Minmin's expression changed slightly. She gave Sun Fatty a cold stare but said nothing. She was starting to believe him—at least a little.
Mi Rongheng seized the moment and took a few steps closer to Zhao Minmin. "Tao Xiangkong is dead. Your followers aren't coming back. Let this end here. Come with us, and I promise you'll live."
After he spoke, both Yang Xiao and Wu Rendi stayed silent—essentially giving tacit approval.
It made sense. Even though we outnumbered her, that didn't necessarily mean we had the upper hand if things turned violent. Zhao Minmin had kept her abilities well hidden. Other than spraying blood all over Yang Xiao's face, we knew almost nothing about what she could do. Back in the pile of corpses, Tao Xiangkong was torn apart, yet Zhao Minmin remained unscathed. We'd even carried her out without realizing a thing. Her abilities were likely on par with Yang Xiao's—maybe not quite as strong, but definitely out of my league. And she almost certainly had a hidden trump card.
As for us, Wu Rendi was no longer reliable—he had voluntarily disabled his powers thirteen days ago and was now more or less at the same level as us junior investigators. Yang Xiao was in slightly better shape, but he'd lost a massive amount of blood—probably over a liter—his face pale as a ghost and barely able to stay standing. If it came to a fight, it'd be up to Sun Fatty and me.
"You'll protect me?" Zhao Minmin sneered at Mi Rongheng. "That's laughable. Who's going to protect you? Don't tell me you're banking on our Patriarch having some miraculous comeback and leading you all out of here?"
She then turned to Yang Xiao. "Patriarch, ever since I was little, I've known that for the Ghost Path Sect, blood is the foundation. When blood flows, power grows. When blood is lost, strength wanes. So tell me, Patriarch, are you just slightly anemic now? Or are you on your last legs?" She chuckled coldly.
"Ms. Zhao, what's wrong with you?" a few female students who were close to her asked timidly. They could tell something was off.
"It's nothing. Come here. Help your teacher," Zhao Minmin beckoned to the student nearest her. Sun Fatty, I, and a few others shouted at the same time, "Don't go near her! She's not your teacher anymore!"
"Don't listen to them," Zhao Minmin said gently. "They're the ones behind the disappearances at the academy. Come to me. I'll protect you."
The girl hesitated, then walked over to her teacher. Where one led, others followed. In the blink of an eye, nearly all the female students had gathered around Zhao Minmin. Some even bravely stood in front of her, forming a human shield.
It was hopeless. No matter what we said now, in a moment like this, Zhao Minmin's words still held more sway than ours. After all, we'd only known them for a few days.
Watching her gather more and more students to her side, I began to get nervous. What was she planning to do with them?
As my thoughts spun in confusion, a voice suddenly echoed in my head: "Shen La, from this distance—can you take her out with a single shot?"
I jumped. It was Yang Xiao's voice.
I looked at him. He was still staring at Zhao Minmin, perfectly still. It didn't look like he had said anything at all. Could I have heard wrong? Was it Wu Rendi? I turned toward Wu Rendi, and the voice rang out again in my mind: "Stop looking around. It's me. If you understand, nod."
It was Yang Xiao. He was pretending to wipe his sweat but shot me a quick glance. He really had this kind of ability? I gave a subtle nod.
"I'll give you the signal," Yang Xiao said in my head. "Shoot the vital spot. Make it a kill shot. You won't get a second chance."
I nodded again. Yang Xiao turned to Zhao Minmin and said aloud, "Yes, I've lost some blood. But even now, I've got more than enough to deal with a brat like you. Come, little girl—let Grandpa teach you a lesson… Shen La! Shoot!"
He'd learned this trick from Sun Fatty. I raised my pistol and pulled the trigger, aiming straight at Zhao Minmin's head.
Click. No gunshot—just the sound of a misfire. A round jammed in the chamber.
You've got to be kidding me. A jam now?
While my misfire gave away our intentions, it also alerted Sun Fatty. He immediately pulled out his pistol and fired at Zhao Minmin. With students all around her, he didn't dare aim for the head, so he aimed at her chest instead.
Bang! A clear gunshot. Zhao Minmin collapsed to the ground. The surrounding students broke into chaos. I quickly racked the slide, ejecting the jammed round.
"I got her!" Sun Fatty shouted, rushing toward the fallen Zhao Minmin to confirm the kill. A shot to the heart—almost certainly fatal. But before he could get too close, both Yang Xiao and Wu Rendi shouted:
"Don't go over there!"
"Stay put!"
Sun Fatty stopped mid-step. I also sensed something was wrong. Zhao Minmin lay there motionless, but not a single drop of blood leaked from the gunshot wound on her chest.
"She's dead! They killed Ms. Zhao!" The first girl who had gone to Zhao Minmin's side cried out and rushed forward again. But as she approached, her sobs suddenly cut off—Zhao Minmin didn't look like someone who had been fatally shot.
Though lying flat on the ground, her body was trembling—slowly at first, then with increasing intensity.
"She's still alive! Quick, help—" Before the girl could finish her sentence, Zhao Minmin suddenly sprang up and pinned her to the ground. Then she sank her teeth into the girl's neck, right over the carotid artery.
I knew it wasn't that easy to kill her!
Sun Fatty and I opened fire again, unleashing over a dozen bullets into Zhao Minmin. The impacts made her jolt a few times, but that was it. She didn't stop. She just kept biting and drinking the blood spurting from the girl's neck, swallowing mouthful after mouthful.
By the time we ran out of ammo, we hadn't done a damn thing to stop her.
"Our pistols are specially made by the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation—whether human or ghost, one shot means certain death. Lin Huo died from my gun; there's no way Zhao Minmin could still be standing." I switched to my last spare magazine, raised the muzzle at Zhao Minmin, but hesitated to pull the trigger.
Sun Fatty had already emptied all his bullets. He holstered his gun and pulled out his baton, but didn't move forward—instead, he took a few steps back and asked, "Director Wu, Old Yang, she can't be killed by bullets! What now?"
By this time, Wu Rendi had already reached my side. He drew a long dagger from his waist—identical to the one my third uncle had given me. Who knew how many of these knives he had hidden? Holding the blade in his hand, Director Wu slashed at Zhao Minmin's head. Though the strike whistled through the air, to be honest, it was far from the power he had displayed in the Water Curtain Cave back then.
Seeing her head about to be cleaved, Zhao Minmin must have sensed it—she let go of the female student, pushed off with her legs, and leapt back more than ten meters.
The female student had already died. Chaos erupted among the surrounding girls—some crying, some screaming, some yelling. The smarter ones had already run to Yang Xiao's side, and the others quickly followed. In the blink of an eye, Zhao Minmin was left surrounded by only me and Wu Rendi.
I raised my gun again, ready to shoot, but was stopped by Wu Rendi. "She's a Half-Corpse. You can't kill her right now."
Half-Corpse? My head started to ache. Hao Wenming had warned me before—these special Bureau-issued bullets aren't a catch-all. The spell engraved on the bullet tip has no effect on creatures that span both the yin and yang realms. When I'd asked for an example, Director Hao had said, "Let me put it this way—if you see a Half-Corpse, steer clear."
Half-Corpse—just as the name suggests, a being that's half-human, half-corpse. The Bureau's archives record them like this: A Half-Corpse is someone who, before dying, uses a special method to seal their soul within their body. After death, the soul does not leave. The flesh doesn't decay, nor does the body emit corpse qi. Their behavior—sitting, walking, speaking—is no different from a living person. (At one point, Half-Corpses were even mistaken for a form of immortality.)
Half-Corpses carefully maintain an internal balance of yin and yang, making standard Bureau weapons nearly useless against them. But they have a glaring weakness: after three years, corpse qi begins to form within them. Their skin and muscles start to wither, the yin-yang balance collapses, and they eventually become something akin to a zombie. At that stage, Bureau weapons can finally deal effective damage. That's when it hit me—isn't that just a mummy?
That's why Wu Rendi said I "can't kill her now."
Zhao Minmin had retreated to the far wall, blood still dripping from her mouth. She looked at Wu Rendi and me and let out a chilling chuckle. "Is that all you've got? How disappointing. Hmph!"
As she spoke, I noticed her eyes flicking toward the dagger in Wu Rendi's hand. She seemed to recognize it as something extraordinary—there was unmistakable wariness in her gaze.
Wu Rendi stared at her with a blank expression. He said, "I was wondering why the mummies outside let you go. Turns out you're one of them. So what about Tao Xiangkong? Is he really dead?"
Just as Wu Rendi spoke, a scream rang out from the students. I turned to see a girl collapse to the ground, with two thick copper nails impaled in her chest and navel. Yang Xiao stood beside her, driving a third nail into her throat.
The girl's body trembled violently, and her features began to morph—what was once a gentle, lovely young woman turned into the face of a young man. Tao Xiangkong. But he was supposed to be dead!
With the three copper nails embedded in him, Tao Xiangkong was completely immobilized. He lay flat on the ground, his eyes fixed lifelessly on the corridor ceiling above—no vitality, no resistance, as though frozen in time.
Seeing this, Zhao Minmin let out a wail and lunged toward Tao Xiangkong, completely ignoring Wu Rendi and his dagger. Unexpectedly, Wu Rendi raised his other hand—holding a small crossbow. He fired a bolt directly at Zhao Minmin's thigh.
Whatever the bolt was made of, it made no sound as it flew—just a blur of movement, and it pierced her leg cleanly.
The third bolt shot out and struck her hand, pinning it to the ground. Only then did Zhao Minmin give up, her head slumping weakly onto the floor.
Sun Fatty, Xiong Wanyi, and I were all dumbfounded. In barely a minute, the situation had completely flipped, and we hadn't even gotten a chance to help.
"You two had the right idea, and guts too—but it's a shame you picked the wrong opponent," Yang Xiao said. His tone was like a teacher scolding two wayward students. "This same thing happened over a hundred years ago, in your grandfathers' generation. I never thought history would repeat itself, with the same ending."
Zhao Minmin and Tao Xiangkong lay motionless on the floor, silent.
Yang Xiao looked at them and sighed. "Aside from you two, are there any living members of the Ghost Path Sect left?"
"No." Tao Xiangkong's eyes regained a trace of life. "As of today, the Ghost Path Sect is officially dissolved. We've held on all these years—for your sake, if nothing else."
Yang Xiao was about to say more, but Wu Rendi raised a hand to stop him. The Director looked at Zhao Minmin and Tao Xiangkong and said, "Tell us everything. Start from the beginning."
Neither of them replied. Their expressions said they were ready for death.
Wu Rendi didn't seem surprised. He added, "If your answer satisfies me, I'll consider sparing one of you."
"I'll talk!" Tao Xiangkong stepped forward, shielding Zhao Minmin. "Most of what I said earlier was true. Everything changed after my father returned from Sichuan with the so-called 'Immortal Technique for Undying Flesh.' Since Minmin and I had just gotten married, my father allowed us to delay cultivation until we had a child. That's how we dodged the disaster."
His face was ashen, his eyes vacant, as though recalling some nightmarish scene. He continued, "After practicing the 'Immortal Technique,' they turned into what they are now. Bloodthirsty. Sometimes they'd attack one another, killing the weakest and feeding on their flesh. I had no choice but to capture a few living people to keep the sect fed. As long as they had fresh blood, they'd regain their senses temporarily.
"I thought maybe they'd cultivated it wrong—had gone astray. So Minmin and I tracked down Lin Huo, following the address my father had once received. We journeyed all the way to Yunnan and eventually found the true culprit behind it all—Lin Huo.
"It was like he'd been waiting for us. He brought us into a cave behind Dead Man's Pool. There, we saw countless walking corpses—just like my father—and a being like a god: the Ancestor Shaman. Lin Huo and the Ancestor Shaman treated us with surprising courtesy. Lin Huo told us my father and the others weren't true 'Immortals' yet. They could still be turned back. But when I begged him for help, he only smiled in silence.
"Eventually, after I kept begging—kneeling for who knows how long—he gave me three choices."
Tao Xiangkong spoke too fast and had to pause, catching his breath before continuing, "First, do nothing, and let my father and the rest become true long-lived corpses. Second, go find someone named Wu Mian—if we could locate him, Lin Huo would restore the others. Third…"
He hesitated and glanced at Yang Xiao, then said, "Third, bring back the Patriarch. If we could bring him to Lin Huo, he'd restore everyone outside. We told him we didn't know where the Patriarch was—and even if we did, we weren't strong enough to face him.
"But Lin Huo had already prepared. He gave us a vial of the Ancestor Shaman's blood. Said if the Patriarch touched it, he'd lose his mind and be at our mercy. After that, he ignored our pleas and forced us out of the altar at Dead Man's Pool.
"We were devastated. We had no way of finding this Wu Mian, and the Patriarch had left the sect for over a century. How could we find him? But we couldn't just abandon our kin and followers. So we came back—and decided to take it one step at a time.
"Minmin and I stayed near here to care for those who had turned. Because of our cultivation in the Ghost Path Sect, we aged slowly. To avoid complications, we'd change our identities and appearances every so often, continuing to guard this place in secret."