Mysterious Awakening

“Leave this place as soon as you can if you wish to avoid trouble,” Miles states after coming up to Mr. Beach’s residence. “The ghost baby seems to have taken a peculiar interest in Coral, an interest that only grows with time. When I first encountered it, the ghost domain was out of its reach. Now, it shows clear signs of mastering that skill. It’s impossible to predict what it will learn next.” A shiver of dread passed over him at what this implied, “Once it reaches full maturity, the degree of horror it could inflict is simply unpredictable.”

Visibly shaken, Mr. Beach inquired, “What are you exactly, Miles? A human or a ghost?”

“I can’t say for certain,” replied Miles. “Perhaps I’m human, or maybe I’m a ghost. I myself am unsure. But that’s not what’s important. Right now, my ability to protect you is all that should matter. We should not waste time debating this.”

“Right, we must leave this place. I’ll gather some necessities,” said Mr. Beach, nodding quickly in agreement.

Mrs. Ocean, still recovering from her shock, asked, “Is that creature… dead? Will it return?”

Miles looked at her gravely. “It’s not dead, and there’s a substantial likelihood that it will return.”

“What? Why didn’t you kill it?” Mrs. Ocean cried out, upset. “You were hired to handle this ghost! You let it escape, so what’s our next course of action? If you can’t kill it, we’re not paying you. How do we know you didn’t deliberately let it go?”

“Look, just because Coral and I share the same classroom doesn’t mean our personal relationship interferes with my job. Are you attempting to avoid payment?” Miles stared at her pointedly.

“Do you think you deserve to be paid despite failing to solve the problem? Is half a million an amount you think can be casually given?” Mrs. Ocean snapped back.

“You’re mistaken. The agreed sum isn’t half a million, it’s a full million,” Miles clarified.

“Who told you it was a million? I heard my husband say the agreed price was half a million,” Mrs. Ocean retorted.

Rubbing his forehead, Miles sank onto the couch. “All this is giving me a headache. I’m a man of principles. If you want to dispute this, there’s little I can do. I’m not well-educated or worldly. I certainly can’t match wits with shrewd people like you. Perhaps we can consider my services a gratuitous favor for Coral.”

He quickly changed the topic. “By the way, Mrs. Ocean, what’s your favorite flower?”

She looked puzzled. “Jasmine. But why do you ask?”

“So I know what flowers to bring the next time I visit a grave,” Miles replied lightly. “If you run into that ghost again, you’ll have to deal with it yourself. With your harsh words, you might be able to convince the ghost baby not to harm you. I should be going now. I hope you can make it out of this building later.”

With those words, he stood, preparing to leave. He was curious whether Coral’s mother valued money more than life, but he didn’t have the time to stay and argue.

As Miles prepared to depart, Mrs. Ocean’s expression shifted instantly. She quickly attempted to mollify him, saying, “Wait, please. Let’s talk this over calmly. Don’t let anger cloud your judgment. I apologize if my words upset you. After all, you and Coral are classmates. Isn’t mutual help among friends a normal thing? Coral has been quite concerned about you these past few days.”

“Yes, we’re classmates, and it is indeed normal to help each other,” Miles acknowledged. “I just aided you and your family. Now, as I’m rather financially strained, wouldn’t it be fitting for you to help me with a million? It’s unfair if I provide favors and you, in turn, insist on conducting business. It seems that I, the less fortunate party, consistently end up on the losing end while the affluent, like you, reap the benefits.”

He continued earnestly, “I’ve learned to protect my interests. I won’t settle for less than a million.” His ability to maintain composure publicly was already a significant concession.

Mrs. Ocean looked uncomfortable. She was well aware of the incident Miles was referring to: when she previously gave him a mere two hundred dollars as a tip for bringing her daughter, Coral, home.

“There’s no need to attempt to curry favor with me,” Miles continued. “Coral and I may be classmates, but I’ve only interacted with you a handful of times. It’s best we keep our relationship strictly transactional. You pay, and I provide services. This arrangement is fair. You use your wealth to safeguard lives, and I risk mine to earn it. That’s a balanced deal.”

“Yes, that’s fair,” she agreed. “But once we’ve compensated you, you’ll need to devise a solution to this predicament, won’t you? Why is that creature targeting our family?”

“It’s not specifically after your family; it’s focused on Coral,” Miles clarified. “I wanted to bring this up at school earlier, but there were more immediate threats to address. I believe it has to do with the handprints on Coral’s neck. She was attacked by the ghost baby at school once, and I intervened. But it seems the ghost baby has developed an obsession with her, repeatedly seeking her out. Of course, this is just speculation at this point. I need to consult someone to verify my suspicion.”

“Is there a way to resolve this?” Mrs. Ocean inquired anxiously.

“I’ll be able to tell you once the payment is made,” replied Miles.

Just then, a notification chimed on his phone. A message confirmed that one million dollars had been transferred to his account.

At this moment, Mr. Beach emerged from his room, saying, “I’ve transferred the funds. We trust that you’ll do your utmost for Coral. If there are any additional requirements, don’t hesitate to share them. If they’re within our means, we won’t deny your request.”

Miles flashed a smile. “Mr. Beach, you’re refreshingly straightforward. You display the efficiency and reliability of a successful man. However, I’m curious. How did you obtain my bank account details?”

“I work for a credit company. It’s a professional habit. I once snapped a photo of some documents at a school parent-teacher meeting,” Mr. Beach explained.

“No wonder Coral was perpetually encircled by classmates from affluent families, leaving a humble guy like me in the sidelines,” Miles reflected, with a certain level of respect for Mr. Beach, who, even at a high school level, was laying the foundations for Coral’s future network. “Mr. Beach, it appears you’ve been orchestrating this from behind the scenes.”

Mr. Beach chuckled uncomfortably, choosing to remain silent. It wasn’t entirely his brainchild; he was simply participating in what a consortium of prosperous parents had put together.

“I believe it’s time we took our leave,” announced Miles, casting a fleeting glance at the clock. Less than a minute remained before the ghost domain would manifest.

Soon enough, they all vacated the premises and swiftly drove off. Given the active ghost domain, they didn’t run into the ghost baby. The ghost domain seemed to obstruct the detection abilities of other ghosts, an observation Miles made a mental note of.

“Miles, I… I apologize,” Coral murmured, regaining some of her poise and gently pulling on his hand in the car.

“No need for apologies. I’m here for the pay,” Miles assured her.

“Thank you,” Coral responded, gratitude resonating in her voice.

As he maneuvered the vehicle, Mr. Beach queried, “Where should we head to now, young man?”

“Any place will suffice, as long as it’s a considerable distance from that building. Even if the entity wishes to track us down, it’ll take some time,” Miles responded.

“Would relocating overseas enable us to evade the ghost?” Mrs. Ocean questioned from the backseat.

“And what if you fail to escape?” Miles countered. “Do you assume supernatural occurrences are non-existent overseas? They are, in fact, more severe than here. Unlike here, there’s no dedicated agency managing such events there. One has to rely on private services. Therefore, tackling such a situation overseas would cost at least a few million dollars as a starting rate. You can verify this with your contacts if you don’t trust me, Mr. Beach. I wasn’t spinning tales when we spoke over the phone.”

“Can you address the issue with the handprints on Coral’s neck?” Mrs. Ocean asked, cautious to not antagonize the young man further. The money had already been transferred, and if Miles took offense and declined to assist, their family would be in jeopardy.

Miles hesitated before responding, “I can only strive to discern the cause. If it’s beyond my capabilities, there’s little I can do. In that case, Coral’s fate will be left to chance.”

He swiftly retrieved his GPS-enabled phone and dialed his operator, Rain. By handling Coral’s case, he could gain deeper insights into managing formidable ghosts, which would be advantageous for him in the future.

Rain answered promptly, “Miles, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Miles confirmed. “Are you operators always on standby? Can I reach you at any time?”

“We offer dedicated services. Each ghost tamer is assigned one handler. I’m your exclusive operator, and my sole duty is to facilitate communication with you,” Rain replied, maintaining her professional demeanor.

“Alright, let’s not get caught up in such trivialities,” Miles interrupted.

“?” Rain was momentarily caught off guard.

“I’m in a bit of a bind,” Miles proceeded, “I’ll apprise you of the details, and perhaps you can offer some guidance.”