The situation was dire.
Hong Yanxun and the others were clearly struggling, the tide of battle slowly turning against them.
Realizing defeat was inevitable if the fight continued, Hong Yanxun prepared to retreat.
As she turned around to withdraw, she caught sight of Mo Lin standing motionless with Fu Wansan at his side.
She froze.
Hadn't she already instructed Mo Lin to flee with Fu Wansan?
Why hadn't he left?
"Why are you still here?" she called out to him.
"Why would I leave?"
If Mo Lin fled, who would capture the ghost?
He was here to subdue it—leaving now would mean a total loss.
A devastating one.
"Can't you see? That ghost is on the verge of advancing to the Nightmare level. We can't win. Staying here is a death sentence!" Hong Yanxun snapped at him.
"You're mistaken," Mo Lin replied calmly. "You can't defeat it. I can."
"Oh, look at you, putting on a show now?"
"Fine. You're so capable—go on then." Her words dripped with sarcasm.
"I will."
Mo Lin called out unhurriedly, "Chen Xi."
At the sound of his voice, everything came to a halt.
Even the ghosts that had moments ago been locked in fierce combat froze in place.
The three-armed ghost ceased its attack, staring fixedly in Mo Lin's direction.
Before Mo Lin stood a female ghost.
Unlike the contract-bound spirits around her, this one seemed completely out of place.
Her expression, her form—everything about her was eerily lifelike.
The moment her gaze swept across the room, everyone felt their hearts seize.
It was the chilling sensation of being marked by death itself.
"This pressure... A Nightmare-class ghost..." Only then did Hong Yanxun realize the truth—Mo Lin's ghost was a Nightmare-class entity.
It was her first time standing so close to one.
As a ghost handler herself, it was only now that she fully grasped the vast chasm separating Terror-level and Nightmare-level spirits.
An unbridgeable gulf.
As Chen Xi emerged, hope returned to the faces of Zhuang Ruo and the others. They rushed toward Mo Lin, seeking the safety of his presence.
Sensing the shift, the three-armed ghost turned to flee.
Even ghosts knew fear.
But it was too late.
In a flash, Chen Xi's hand pierced clean through the ghost's chest.
Its resistance crumbled instantly.
She dragged the now powerless spirit before Mo Lin and handed it over for judgment.
Mo Lin chose to suppress it.
"Congratulations. You've acquired the ghost technique: Mimicry."
A new page appeared in the Book of Suppressed Spirits.
Name: Song ZhaiClass: TerrorTechnique: MimicrySpirit Coin Yield: 40 coins/day
Effortless.
This was suppression by someone from a higher plane.
A clash between different dimensions entirely.
Capturing the ghost was almost laughably easy.
Beside him, Hong Yanxun swallowed hard.
Too powerful.
She had never imagined that the man before her was a Level Five Ghost Handler.
Even among ghosts, there were levels of strength.
Her own ghost, though of the same class as the three-armed one, had been unable to defeat it.
But Mo Lin's ghost was a Nightmare-level entity—and an exceptionally powerful one at that.
One move. That was all it took to annihilate a Terror-level ghost.
A shiver ran through her.
If that ghost had targeted her, she might've been wiped out in an instant.
Level Five meant true strength.
It wasn't just Hong Yanxun who was shocked.
Fu Wansan was left speechless.
He had asked Mo Lin to act as a bodyguard just to make up numbers—never expecting him to be this formidable.
Incredible.
He had once feared Li San.
But after witnessing Mo Lin's power, that fear vanished.
Perhaps Mo Lin was their true weapon against Li San.
"Impressed?" Mo Lin asked Hong Yanxun.
"I am," she admitted with a nod.
"Then why did you try to stop me? If you hadn't interfered, I would've finished this ghost long ago."
She hung her head, frustration written across her face.
How was she supposed to know he was a Level Five handler?
If she had known, she never would've gotten in his way.
"I didn't realize you were so powerful..." she muttered apologetically.
"Young man, thank you for saving our lives," Zhuang Ruo stepped forward to express his gratitude.
If Mo Lin hadn't intervened, they might have all died in that room.
"Thank you," the others echoed sincerely.
"Mo Bro, much appreciated," Fu Wansan added.
"Don't thank me yet," Mo Lin said, his tone steady. "It's not over."
He pointed toward the door. "Li San is still out there."
The expressions of those around him darkened.
Today, they had completely severed ties with Li San.
Since Li San wanted them dead, they couldn't just let it go.
But the immediate concern was to escape safely.
Outside, Li San stood with arms crossed, gazing silently at the house.
He had heard the chaos within and assumed the ghost had begun its slaughter.
It was a vicious ghost, impossible to tame or bind with a contract.
That was why he had resorted to sealing it in a jar.
Today, he released it purely to eliminate Fu Wansan and his people.
Once they were dead, he would make his move on the Yunchuan commercial market, planting his flag quickly and securely.
He had even begun envisioning his empire's growth in Yunchuan.
A smile tugged at his lips—he was pleased with how things were going.
The silence that followed the clash inside the house only confirmed his belief: the ghost had likely massacred everyone.
No survivors.
Now all that remained was sealing the ghost again.
That part was tricky...
But before he could work out the details, something unexpected happened.
Fu Wansan and the others walked out of the house—alive.
Li San blinked in disbelief, rubbing his eyes to be sure.
No mistake.
They were alive.
One bodyguard was missing—likely dead. Another had lost an arm.
But the rest? Unscathed.
How?
That ghost was a Terror-class entity.
Why hadn't it killed them?
Unwilling to accept this outcome, Li San's eyes locked on Hong Yanxun.
If there was an explanation, it had to be her.
She was a Level Four Ghost Handler—the only one capable of subduing the creature.
"Fu Wansan... so you brought a bodyguard of some renown after all," Li San muttered, eyes still fixed on Hong Yanxun.
"You're despicable, Li San," Fu Wansan growled. "You lured us here under the pretense of a deal, only to plot our deaths."
"How else was I supposed to rise in Yunchuan if you all lived?"
No more pretense. The masks had fallen.
There was no need for deception now.
Li San made no effort to hide his intentions.