Mysterious Awakening

At home, Coral’s family shivered in terror.

Simultaneously, Miles was hurling towards Coral’s residence in a taxi that felt all too slow for his needs.

“Can you speed up?” His voice wavered, anxiety creeping into his tone.

“Do I seem ignorant of the city’s speed regulations? Cameras lurk at every corner. Breaking the limit attracts penalties,” retorted the taxi driver, focused firmly on the road. “I’m pushing as fast as I can without crossing any lines. Unless you can fly, we’re not going any quicker.”

“I feel like I could outpace this on foot,” Miles grumbled.

“Look here, I’ve been behind the wheel for over twenty years. My driving’s as steady as a rock. Do you see anyone overtaking us?” The driver’s voice resonated with both defensiveness and pride.

Estimating the taxi’s sluggish speed, Miles figured that they might arrive at Coral’s too late to change anything.

Could he rescue them?

The outlook seemed grim.

“Three lives… and five hundred thousand,” he murmured, half to himself.

His hand brushed against his own, making contact with the dormant eye concealed beneath his flesh. He was torn between choices.

Activating the ghost domain would transport him to Coral’s home instantaneously, but it also meant sacrificing a valuable utilization of his ghost power.

His ability was a precarious gift, as deadly as venom. Once, he had swallowed an eye to activate the ghost within, a move that had almost confined him to his bed. It was only a red paper that had managed to calm the restless eye.

Miles couldn’t predict how long the red paper would keep the ghost in check. However, he came to a decision after a brief contemplation.

“Your slow pace is increasing my stress levels. Could you move over to the passenger seat? I’d like to take control,” he softly tapped the driver’s shoulder.

“You wish to take over?” The driver smirked, “Are you questioning my driving ability or my vehicle? I’ve outraced innumerable cars over the years. I can overtake anything. If you’re in a rush, up the fare. A thousand bucks will get you there in ten minutes. Five thousand and we’ll reach in five, red lights be damned.”

“Five minutes? I’d make it in one if I were in charge,” Miles fired back.

The driver laughed in disbelief, “Modesty suits you, young man. If you manage to reach the residential district in a minute, the ride’s on me. I’ve navigated Dachang City for years, don’t you think I know the ropes?”

Miles opted for silence as an odd sensation of tearing emerged beneath his clothes. Multiple eyes appeared, and a crimson glow enveloped his figure, illuminating the taxi’s interior in a matter of moments.

“Remember your promise, don’t charge me if we arrive within the minute,” Miles warned coolly.

“Agreed,” the driver consented, only to find he was no longer in control. His foot instinctively sought the brake pedal, meeting only air. Miles had assumed his position at the helm.

“Good heavens… How did we switch seats?” The taxi driver jolted as if he’d seen a ghost.

Instead of replying, Miles firmly gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas pedal.

“Whooosh!”

In an instant, the car blasted forward, pressing them back against their seats. The speedometer needle quickly jumped from forty to eighty, then shot up to a hundred and beyond.

“Sweet Lord, brake, hit the brake! We’re about to rear-end that car!” the driver hollered, his face turning ashen. He hadn’t anticipated such reckless driving from the young man.

“He must be a novice, mixing up the clutch with the brake,” he reasoned.

Miles, unperturbed, reassured him, “Don’t worry, we’ll just go straight through.”

Through? Did he mean overtaking or actually passing through?

Before the driver could ponder this, the taxi sped towards the sports car ahead and then accelerated even more.

Unbelievably, the taxi appeared to pass directly through the sports car.

“Help!” Anticipating a collision, the driver squeezed his eyes shut, let out a shrill scream, and held on to his seatbelt with a death grip.

The affluent youth driving the sports car barely had time to notice the audacious taxi that sped past his vehicle, leaving exhaust fumes on his precious car.

“What the hell? How can a taxi outpace me? Dares to overtake my car like it’s a race? Is my ten-million-dollar supercar’s honor worth nothing?” Aggravated, he tossed his phone, shifted gears, and stomped on the accelerator.

“Vroom”

The sports car’s engine roared back to life, chasing the insolent taxi.

The vehicle under Miles’ control was far from ordinary; cloaked in his ghost domain, it distorted the reality around it.

His taxi had transformed into a ghostly vehicle, with him as its ghostly driver.

Fuming, the young man pushed his supercar to match the pace.

“Honk honk.” His car’s horn blared, causing Miles to spare him a glance.

In turn, the young man rolled down his window and offered a rude middle finger.

Unfazed, Miles extended both his middle fingers out of the window, reciprocating the discourteous act with double the force.

“Damn, this guy’s got some nerve,” the young man fumed, letting go of the wheel to mimic Miles’ brazen gesture.

Undeterred, Miles continued his silent response, not even bothering to look at the road ahead.

“Game on,” the young man muttered, eyeing the road.

The traffic light was green, and the path ahead was clear. With gritted teeth, he kept his fingers raised in defiance.

It was a silent face-off; whoever lowered their hand first would lose.

Three seconds into the standoff, the young man was prepared to brake at any second.

Four seconds in, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

By the fifth second, he sneaked a quick look at the road and eased off the gas.

Miles, however, stayed resolute, his gaze fixed and fingers steadfast, his foot pressing on the accelerator. As for the road ahead, his additional pair of eyes were on constant watch.

Six seconds in, Miles suddenly pointed, first at the young speedster, then towards the road ahead.

“SHIT!” The rich man’s eyes snapped forward just in time to see a pickup truck’s brake lights illuminating a fiery red. Swiftly reacting, he slammed on the brakes and swerved, the screech of the sudden stop echoing down the street.

His supercar made a full two hundred and seventy-degree turn before finally crashing into a roadside strip of verdant greenery.

“Damn, this lunatic’s playing with death,” the wealthy youth muttered, clambering out of his wrecked car, still shaking from the shock.

His disbelief deepened as he observed the faintly glowing taxi ignoring a red light, miraculously weaving around seven or eight cars before disappearing down the street at a mind-boggling speed.

It must have been clocking nearly one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour.

“No, he’s not a lunatic; he’s a master.” Lighting a cigarette and taking a deep puff, a sense of admiration filled the young man’s eyes.

Driving without hands, not looking at the road, maintaining breakneck speeds — this wasn’t just about skill. It required audacious bravery and nerves of steel. He had never seen someone remain so calm amidst danger.

His father had been right; such remarkable people did exist in the world.

His encounter with Miles left him spellbound, vowing to learn from him should their paths cross again.

Meanwhile, Miles kept his hand on the wheel, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

He navigated through bustling traffic, manicured parks, and towering buildings, reaching a gated community within a single minute.

As the car came to a stop, the taxi driver nearly fell out, gagging at the roadside, his eyes wide with fear.

He rambled on about the hair-raising ride, how his two decades of driving experience had been effortlessly surpassed, and how he’d one day rise to celestial heights, akin to the sun.

Miles, however, calmly stepped out of the car, a faint red aura still surrounding him. He cast a glance at the driver.

Unaware of the reality-warping ride that Miles had engineered, the driver assumed he’d merely been driving at high speed.

Creating illusions was a basic function of the ghost domain.

However, the ghost domain had a time limit of five minutes.

After that, the inner ghost would stir, giving rise to a possible awakening from within.

Therefore, having already activated the ghost domain, it was crucial not to waste the opportunity.

Miles dialed Mr. Beach’s number, “Hello, Mr. Beach? Could you let me know your building and floor number? I’m on my way.”

He hoped he wouldn’t discover a lifeless body upon arrival because, if so, his only option would be to retrieve the remains.