Mysterious Awakening

This is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The oppressive heat felt suffocating, creating a sensation so overpowering that it felt nearly impossible to draw a proper breath.

The body bag that enclosed Miles wasn’t fully sealed. Some deliberate gaps were left to ensure air could circulate. Although after becoming a ghost tamer, Miles wasn’t entirely sure whether he could still succumb to suffocation. Nevertheless, he decided it wasn’t a hypothesis he wanted to thoughtlessly explore.

Being cocooned inside the body bag was exceedingly unpleasant. But to ensure his own survival, enduring this discomfort was his only option.

Who could estimate the sheer number of specters prowling outside? Already, three of his fellow ghost tamers had met their untimely ends. This meant the spirits they harbored were now free. Add to that the restless spirits of the deceased, the aggressive phantoms, the menacing headless ghost, and two other entities named Yiming and Stretch who might turn on him if he’s not careful.

The Yellow Hill Village had rapidly transformed into a hub teeming with malevolent apparitions.

Survival in such a hostile environment seemed like a distant dream. Trying to discern patterns in the spirits’ movements or methods felt pointless because the danger he faced was immense, certainly exceeding his current capabilities.

Inside his makeshift sanctuary, sweat covered every inch of Miles. In the thick blackness, his own labored breaths were the only sounds he could hear. Outside, a disturbing silence prevailed, so deep that not even a whisper pierced through.

In a way, he prayed for the silence to continue.

Any noise would most likely not be from a living human.

So, Miles lay within the confines of the body bag, waiting in anticipation, hoping for some form of salvation.

If the headless ghost shadow he had unleashed earlier had its intended effect, there might be a glimmer of hope. However, if things took a turn for the worse, he might be forever trapped in this dire situation.

Miles retrieved his phone, checking the time.

The screen read 10:20.

It was morning, not night. By now, the village should have been awash in the morning sun. Yet, stepping out would reveal a village shrouded in an unnatural darkness.

“The headless ghost I released had better work in my favor. It’s valued at a billion. If it doesn’t turn the tide in this situation, I can’t even fathom the magnitude of my loss.”

As he reflected on his decision to unleash the headless ghost shadow, Miles didn’t feel remorse, but he couldn’t help feeling the sting of potential financial loss.

A billion had potentially vanished into thin air, and without any violent skirmishes, recapturing it seemed unlikely.

Perhaps it was his sanctuary within the body bag, but from 10:20 until 1:30, over three quiet hours elapsed, with Miles remaining untouched.

The 20-million-dollar body bag had proven its worth.

It appeared that even the potent might of the malevolent spirits was ineffective against the golden barrier. It was a testament to Professor Bruce Pi’s benevolence that he chose to share such groundbreaking research with the public.

Without such a safe haven, hopelessness would have certainly taken root.

But one can’t remain in hiding indefinitely.

Although Miles had the foresight to stockpile some non-perishable food and water in the body bag, it was a finite supply, lasting only a few days at best. If the situation outside didn’t improve within that timeframe, he’d be compelled to risk the unknown dangers beyond his protective cocoon.

However, the extended period of security and tranquility inside the body bag gradually lessened his apprehension.

Convinced of his temporary sanctuary’s efficacy, Miles’s tense nerves began to relax.

After some reflection, he decided it was time to reach out to Rain once again.

Surprisingly, the satellite phone was still operational, with a stable signal.

The response on the other end was swift.

“Hello, is this Miles?” The recognizable voice of Rain queried instantly.

“It’s me, Miles. I’m currently trapped in Yellow Hill Village. The file you provided regarding the Yellow Hill Village incident isn’t adding up. It seems that someone intentionally altered the report from the ghost tamer, Frank. I’m starting to think that there’s more to the Yellow Hill Village story than we originally thought,” Miles divulged.

Rain’s shocked intake of breath was audible, “That can’t be right. That file was sourced directly from our archives. Tampering with it isn’t a task easily accomplished. The circle of people with that kind of access is very limited. Are you insinuating an insider at our HQ is manipulating the data?”

Drawing a deep breath, Miles whispered, “Considering the pieces: Spear City’s Cockroach Club, Manager Sun, and the documentation regarding the technique to control and sustain a secondary spirit – what conclusions can you draw from these ties?”

Rain, pen in hand, halted his note-taking, “This… it’s rather perplexing.”

Undeterred, Miles pressed, “Though you might be hesitant to accept it, you must sense deep down that your organization has a hand in this. Only with their secret involvement could such an extensive scheme unfold. I believe this entire event was engineered, dangling the method of controlling a second spirit as a lure, coercing ghost tamers like us to intervene in the paranormal occurrences in Yellow Hill Village.”

“We, as freelance ghost tamers, represent an unpredictable element. It’s plausible that the organization desires to direct us to confront these supernatural incidents head-on. Naturally, ulterior motives might also be in play. To the higher-ups, the loss of our lives is a trivial matter. Ghost tamers are already marked for doom by the resurgence of these malevolent entities. Instead of us dying and escalating the paranormal phenomena, they’d rather we meet our end combating major, isolated incidents. Whether we seal away one or two spirits, it’s all the same in their eyes.”

“They’re manipulating us, treating us as mere pawns in their grand game. The Cockroach Club is likely their middleman.” Miles voiced with unwavering certainty, “I have a strong suspicion that we aren’t the only ones in this nation grappling with this predicament.”

Rain, her voice edged with gravitas, responded, “To be honest, I can’t confirm or refute your claim with complete surety, but I can certainly dig deeper into the matter. If our records have indeed been tampered with, I’ll ensure the culprits face the consequences.”

Miles countered, “Rain, it’s not like I oversee the city or hold any official sway, and you don’t owe any explanations or apologies to me. My only intent in reaching out was to discern the truth. If my time comes, I’d prefer to leave this world with a clear understanding of why.”

A shiver ran down Rain’s spine as she processed the gravity of Miles’s words. His tone was unmistakably urgent and filled with peril, hinting at the dire circumstances he was under. She wanted to provide some clarity or solace, but she was genuinely in the dark about the intricate details.

Seeing her struggle, Captain Build, who had been nearby, gently placed a hand on Rain’s shoulder, signaling her to step aside. “I’ll handle this conversation. You continue with your tasks.”

She nodded, murmuring, “Of course, Captain,” and moved away, her worry evident.

Taking over the conversation, Captain Build greeted, “Miles, this is Captain Build speaking.”

Miles acknowledged, “Hello, Captain Build.”

Build began, “I’ve been apprised of the overarching circumstances. While your doubts do raise some pertinent questions, it’s important to understand that within HQ, there’s a camaraderie between various divisions. I can’t vouch for all of them, but I can assert with confidence that our international section is steadfast in its mission to combat supernatural occurrences.”

“Rest assured, internal animosities or vested interests don’t skew our objectives. We value every contribution equally, irrespective of rank or affiliation. I assure you that your commendable efforts in Spear City haven’t gone unnoticed. Many of your concerns will be addressed once you’re officially a part of HQ. Should you need our assistance, know that I will pull all stops to help. I just hope you won’t let conjectures tarnish our mutual trust.”

Without missing a beat, Miles shot back, “Speaking of help, there’s a specific request. I demand a face-to-face with the actual power player behind that shadowy organization. Given your resources and connections, you should be able to trace them through a businesswoman named Sun.”

He paused before adding emphatically, “This isn’t a request, it’s non-negotiable.”

“And remember, if I don’t make it out of here, everything’s off the table. But if I come out alive and my demand isn’t met, you’ll have to deal with the repercussions.”

The weight of Miles’s words settled heavily, and Captain Build’s face clouded with concern. “Miles, I implore you to stay composed. We’ll leave no stone unturned to address your concerns.”

“It’s not about trying, Captain. It’s about delivering. And just so you know, with this one call, I’ve acquired leverage potent enough to bring all of you down,” Miles’s voice had an unmistakable chill.

“Take it as a veiled threat if you will.”

“Goodbye.”

With a beep, the line went dead.

Within the walls of the call center, a stifling silence hung heavily in the air. Every operator within earshot had halted their operations, their faces a mix of shock and fear as they turned their attention to Captain Build. The gravitas of the call left an indelible mark on the atmosphere.

Could it be possible? A single phone call with the potential to bring about the end of everyone present?

The implications of such a possibility were daunting to say the least.

Suddenly, a decisive voice cut through the tension, “Captain Build, it’s clear that this ghost tamer, Miles, is mentally unraveling. He’s showing signs of malice and a thirst for revenge. My recommendation is to sever all ties. It might be best for everyone here if we cease all current operations, disconnect all lines, and escalate this matter to the higher-ups.”

An officer, seemingly of a comparable rank to Build, stepped forward, advocating for this drastic measure.

But before he could elaborate, Build’s hand crashed onto the table, his face a picture of intense anguish. “That’s preposterous! Halting everything will only expose us to more dangers!”

“Then why don’t we simply sever ties with Miles? Remove him from our contact list and cut all communications with him?” the officer continued to counter with the suggestion.

Build, his voice rising, responded, “That’s an even worse idea! You yourself mentioned his fragile mental state. What if isolating him exacerbates his condition? And do you genuinely believe that cutting off one device will deter him? What if he tries alternative methods to reach us? Do you fancy another paranormal incident happening right here in our midst?” His gaze bore into the officer, demanding an answer.

Build’s frustration was palpable. “But what’s truly gnawing at me is this: Who in the world altered the documents? Do they not grasp the dire repercussions of such actions? Lives hang in the balance!”

He was livid. His team had spent a good amount of time cultivating trust with Miles, and just as they were bridging gaps, this fiasco erupted. Should this become public knowledge, every ghost tamer within HQ would start questioning their operations. Such skepticism could very well spell the end for the entire Asian division.

“Some individuals just relish in creating mayhem,” Build spat out. “I’d relish the opportunity to confront them.”

Turning his attention to Rain, he instructed, “Maintain your communications with Miles. Utilize every possible tactic to keep him grounded. I will delve into the company’s affairs and dig up everything about its operations. Within 72 hours, I demand a face-to-face with their head honcho outside Yellow Hill Village.”

Rain, ever diligent, responded, “Understood, Captain.”

Build, his fury unabated, made his exit. Although he wasn’t the highest-ranking officer at HQ, he wielded substantial clout outside.

Elsewhere, Miles lay ensconced within what appeared to be a body bag. Yet, despite his precarious situation, his mind was sharp. The call was a strategic move designed to lay the groundwork for forthcoming negotiations and to assess the true intentions of the company’s hierarchy.

But all these calculations rested on one crucial premise: his survival. If he were to meet an untimely end, every strategy would crumble. For the time being, as he lay in wait, his mind busied itself with plotting the next moves.

Deep in thought, Miles speculated, “Build must be reeling after that call. He probably didn’t expect me to corner him like that.” A smirk played on Miles’s lips. “However, that’s a distraction I can’t afford now. I need all the energy I can muster.” With that, he allowed his tensed muscles to relax and his mind to let go of the immediate worries. Slowly, his eyelids grew heavy and he slipped into a restorative sleep, knowing that a well-rested mind would be crucial for whatever lay ahead.

As the hours ticked away, the atmosphere within the body bag grew stuffier. But Miles’s body had adjusted, recognizing the need to conserve energy. However, the serenity was interrupted by a noise. The clock, which he had set up nearby for keeping track of time, showed 6 p.m.

From a distance, a rhythmic thudding became audible. Footsteps. They were unmistakably human, but the pattern and pace were erratic, not quite matching the usual stride of a villager.

Miles’s previously relaxed state was shattered. His senses heightened, every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. Those footsteps were drawing nearer, making their way from the outskirts of the village, steadily approaching his hideout.

“Who could it be?” Miles pondered, anxiety gnawing at him.

The village had its share of ghost stories. Was it the ghost of the headless apparition he had once encountered? Or perhaps the residual spirit of some other restless soul? Worst of all, could it be the malevolent entity – a ghost so powerful that even experienced ghost tamers dreaded its wrath?

The footsteps continued to approach, each step growing louder, amplifying the suspense.

A battle raged within Miles. Curiosity and caution fought for dominance. The body bag, his current shield, also blinded him. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to unzip the bag slightly and use his unique ghostly vision to identify the intruder. But was it worth the risk?

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as the footsteps neared, and Miles’s heart raced, ready for whatever challenge the evening would throw his way.