Chapter Forty-Eight: The Night Watch Ghost

Still going to die?

Glancing at the watch in his hand, less than a minute remained.

The vengeful spirit, Xiong Wenwen, the foreseen events, that strange knocking rhythm, the sound.

In this desperate situation, everything seemed poised to crush Shen Lin.

One bizarre thought after another floated like bubbles in water, suspended in midair, waiting for a flash of inspiration to weave them into a coherent thread.

A storm raged in his mind; everything around him rushed past like a movie playing at hundreds of times normal speed.

In the darkness, he suddenly stretched out his hand, as if trying to grasp something.

No! He caught it!

That white dove of inspiration.

Tick-tock—the watch hit zero; the time was exactly 12:30 a.m. According to Xiong Wenwen’s uncertain foresight, Shen Lin was supposed to die in this accident.

No movement, no use of ghostly powers; Shen Lin calmly watched the seconds tick toward the end, then he...

Closed his eyes tight!

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Time passed second by second. Xiong Wenwen’s heart nearly exploded from fear as he stared unblinkingly at Shen Lin. The scenes of Shen Lin’s death from his premonitions flashed repeatedly through his mind.

It’s okay, hopefully it’s okay, it must be okay!

Otherwise, once the terrifying vengeful spirit inhabiting Shen Lin awakens, none of them would survive.

Silence enveloped the entire space, broken only by the sound of breathing and the ticking of the second hand.

When the clock struck 12:31, Xiong Wenwen coughed violently a few times before bursting into unrestrained laughter.

They had survived. They had won!

In the darkness, Shen Lin opened his eyes, radiating unparalleled composure and calm. He looked at the vengeful spirit before him as if it were nothing but a void.

In his chest, the bloodthirsty impulse of the ghostly aura stirred restlessly but receded under Shen Lin’s willpower.

“What happens next?” Shen Lin asked.

Xiong Wenwen was momentarily dazed, as if waking from a dream, and hurriedly responded.

He unfolded his foresight.

Doubt vanished from Shen Lin’s gaze, replaced by tranquility.

His caution regarding the ghostly staircase had proved invaluable. This spirit’s complexity exceeded ordinary imagination. Shen Lin had secretly engaged in a psychological battle with the vengeful spirit.

The key was whether to trust Xiong Wenwen.

Though Xiong Wenwen’s multiple contradictory premonitions seemed flawed, they were in fact true.

In desperation, Shen Lin took a bold risk.

He had gambled correctly. If he guessed right, this spirit required multiple conditions to align perfectly before it would be triggered.

“Shen Lin, it’s fine. For the next ten minutes, the spirit made no move,” Xiong Wenwen exclaimed in delight. Zhou Bin laughed out loud as well. If the situation weren’t so tense, they might have jumped for joy.

“Why? What happened? Did you crack the spirit’s pattern?” Zhou Bin asked eagerly.

Shen Lin nodded, confirming his suspicion and validating his hypothesis.

“Sort of. In my theory, this spirit follows a composite pattern. Multiple conditions must be met to activate it, and all of these conditions are extremely stringent.”

Xiong Wenwen shook his head in disbelief. “That can’t be. If the rules were that strict, how would any of us have been caught?”

“Not all vengeful spirits are the same. This one is especially terrifying. Even headquarters probably can’t find anyone who can suppress it. But on the flip side, this spirit’s danger level is actually quite low. It kills only thirty-six people per night, about a million over a hundred years,” Shen Lin explained.

This was no exaggeration. By comparison, roughly 500,000 people die in traffic accidents worldwide each year, with 15 million more injured.

In contrast, this “watchman ghost” over a century barely matches two years’ worth of traffic accident fatalities.

The danger rating of a vengeful spirit is measured by the harm it causes to normal society.

This hooded ghost was extremely fearsome; triggering its pattern was almost a death sentence. Its terror level was off the charts. Shen Lin planned to stay far away from Dongchuan City for a long time, unwilling to tangle with this spirit. Skirting the edge of life and death was no pleasant experience.

“What did you find out?” Zhou Bin glanced nervously toward the hooded ghost and quickly asked.

“First, we retreat to the fifth floor. We need to disappear from the spirit’s sight for a while. Zhou Bin, take Xu Fang with you. Xiong Wenwen, keep track of time and remind me one minute before each hour,” Shen Lin instructed.

Without hesitation, they moved swiftly. Since the spirit’s pattern triggered only once every ten minutes, they had ample time.

Once settled, Shen Lin sat on the steps of the fifth floor, taking a brief breath. Anyone under such pressure would feel drained. Near-death experiences had taken a heavy toll on his spirit.

“Have you ever felt like the spirit’s appearance looks familiar?” Shen Lin asked.

Xiong Wenwen and Zhou Bin exchanged a brief, thoughtful glance before nodding.

“Can’t quite place it, but I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere,” Xiong Wenwen said.

“Me too, me too,” Zhou Bin echoed.

“In old TV dramas, there’s often a warning about dry weather and fire hazards. That comes from an ancient profession—night watchmen and timekeepers,” Shen Lin explained.

Both men fell silent, seemingly piecing something together.

“You mean this spirit is acting as a night watchman? It patrols and announces the time?” Zhou Bin, ever quick-witted, asked, his expression turning to one of horror.

“For whom is it making rounds and announcing the time?”

The thought was chilling—what purpose drove this ghost to tirelessly patrol and mark the hours? Whom was it serving?

“I don’t know,” Shen Lin shook his head.

Many mysteries surrounded the watchman ghost, including the origin and function of the broken wooden staff it held. No one knew for sure, and Shen Lin had no desire to find out. The spirit’s terror level was too high; he preferred to avoid drawing its attention.

“Thinking along the lines of a watchman’s duties, I believe this spirit follows four main rules, all of which must be triggered for it to attack.”

“First is the range. Like a traditional watchman has a patrol area, this spirit must have a certain regular range it roams each night, patrolling and announcing the time within that zone.”

Both men swallowed hard. The thought that a vengeful spirit might be roaming somewhere in the darkness outside was terrifying.

Shen Lin deliberately kept this vague—range was range; no one really knew how vast the spirit’s territory was. Historically, watchmen’s patrol areas were small and varied, but never too large.

“Second is time. The spirit has a strict time window. It operates from midnight to six a.m., triggering its pattern every ten minutes, targeting thirty-six people each night.”

A guaranteed kill on each strike was characteristic of this spirit. Though its overall danger level was low, its terror factor was frightfully high. There was probably no current method to deal with it.

“Third is sound. The spirit announces the time with a ‘clang-clang’ sound, similar to what we commonly hear. I suspect that those who can hear the chimes fall within its hunting range. This needs further investigation.”

The two men pondered this and found it plausible.

“The fourth condition is most peculiar. It is almost undetectable on each of us, which is why we initially overlooked it.”

“Closing our eyes!”

Both men were stunned; no one had anticipated this layer.

The watchman spirit’s time announcements were one thing, but its patrol was the key.

Thinking back to the first and third times they avoided the spirit, Xiong Wenwen had closed his eyes out of fear, and Zhou Bin had peacefully awaited death with eyes shut.

Putting it all together, this spirit launched indiscriminate attacks every ten minutes from midnight targeting those who kept their eyes open.

This spirit was on watch!

“Damn! So it means that after midnight, closing your eyes for one minute every ten minutes lets you avoid the pattern?” Zhou Bin exclaimed.

Xiong Wenwen rolled his eyes, feeling he had a fool for a teammate.

“I disdain your intelligence, Brother Xiong. To keep it simple: if you sleep soundly past midnight until morning, this spirit can’t touch you.”

Zhou Bin was stunned. Indeed, this was a watchman spirit with principles.

Though its rules seemed harsh, in modern society, staying up late is common.

This was a watchman spirit’s paradise; its strict pattern was easily triggered by modern habits.

“Verifying this theory is easy. One minute until 12:40. We just need to close our eyes for one minute. If we aren’t attacked, it means our guess is correct,” Shen Lin said.

This was no wild guess. Based on his earlier attempts and Xiong Wenwen’s predictions, they were about 80% certain. Now was the crucial moment.

Zhou Bin smiled sheepishly, lying down and playing dead with eyes shut. A drunk’s ability was no different from feigning death; he was used to it.

Xiong Wenwen scoffed, curling up beside Shen Lin like a koala, tightly closing his eyes.

Shen Lin smiled and did the same.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Time passed second by second. Though confident, their hearts pounded anxiously.

Fearing inaccurate silent counting, Shen Lin counted deliberately to one hundred and twenty before opening his eyes, a little late as the time neared 12:43.

He revealed a hint of victory—this meant they had survived, barely clinging to life.

“Open your eyes.”

They did so nervously, stealing a glance at the watch before finally relaxing.

Xu Fang remained unconscious, having suffered multiple attacks that likely impaired his mental state. When he would awaken was unknown.

Just as they were about to speak, an eerie sound came—

Pat-pat, pat-pat—

Footsteps! Footsteps! The watchman ghost’s footsteps.

What was happening? Had their theory been wrong? Shen Lin was stunned and quickly exchanged a glance with Zhou Bin.

Without hesitation, Zhou Bin sprang into action. Now was no time for fear. Using his drunkard’s agility, he swiftly moved to the stairwell corner on the fourth floor, peering down cautiously.

He locked eyes with the vengeful spirit.

Eyes swollen white, a rotting, shriveled skull, a terrifying aura washed over him.

Zhou Bin could barely contain his terror, covering his mouth and forcing himself not to tremble or make a sound, hoping to avoid alerting the spirit and keep a chance to escape.

That brief moment of eye contact chilled him to the bone.

Fortunately, it was mere coincidence. The spirit’s footsteps did not stop; it slowly faded into the darkness.

On the third floor, the spirit was gone. Only a puddle of foul-smelling bloodstained water remained, slowly flowing.

After confirming the watchman ghost had left, Zhou Bin let out a deep sigh of relief, sitting down and gasping heavily.