(Translator's Note: In Chinese folklore, the "Seventh Night" or "Tou Qi" is when the soul of the deceased returns home for the last time. It is a night known for having the heaviest "Yin" energy, where the boundary between the living and the dead is thinnest.)
[Time: 03:00 AM] [Location: Hotel Lobby]
The deepest darkness before dawn. In folklore, this is the hour when "Yin energy" is at its heaviest.
I really couldn't hold on anymore. Over twenty hours of continuous high-intensity labor and mental tension caused my consciousness to scatter. Even though I pinched my own thigh, my head still nodded off uncontrollably, inch by inch.
In the lobby, the light from the crystal chandelier seemed to have dimmed a little. The originally warm yellow light had, at some point, taken on a bleak, pale green hue, casting shadows on the walls that flickered like hunched human figures standing around.
The hum of the Arc Reactor also changed its tune. It was no longer a stable mechanical sound; it sounded somewhat like a group of people chanting sutras in the distance, or traditional mourning wails—intermittent, rising and falling.
"Hallucinations... it's all hallucinations..."
Hugging "Old Buddy," I curled up behind the counter and closed my eyes in a daze.
My consciousness plummeted rapidly, falling into a cold, viscous darkness.
I don't know how long passed. Maybe a moment, maybe a century.
A sound, faint as if it weren't there, drilled into my ears.
Ding-a-ling...
Like a wind chime, or the shaking of some ancient Taoist ritual instrument. Very light, very crisp, yet exceptionally piercing in this deathly silent night.
I jerked awake.
But, I couldn't move.
My mind was perfectly clear; I knew I was lying behind the counter, and I knew the axe was right by my hand. But my body felt disconnected from my soul. My fingers couldn't bend, my eyelids were as heavy as lead, and my throat felt stuffed with a ball of cold, wet cotton—I couldn't make a single sound.
Ghost Pressing Bed (Sleep Paralysis).
A bone-chilling cold aura was spreading across the floor towards me. That cold wasn't a physical low temperature, but a gloom that could freeze bone marrow, carrying a smell of... burnt Joss Paper (spirit money) and rotting earth.
I tried desperately to move my eyeballs, looking through the slit of my barely opened eyes toward the main door.
The door, which I had nailed shut, was still closed tight.
But, things were "seeping" in from under the door gap.
It wasn't smoke, but palm-sized, pale white pieces of paper. Like they were blown by the wind, they swirled into the lobby, making no sound when they landed, instead melting rapidly into the floor.
They were pieces of Joss Paper—money for the dead.
Immediately after, a shadow passed through the door panel.
It ignored the wooden planks, ignored the iron nails, just like a drop of ink dripping into water, slowly spreading out in the lobby.
It was a "Person." Or rather, a thing that looked like a person.
It wore a coarse white hemp mourning robe, and a tall pointed hat on its head. Its body was semi-transparent, the edges flickering with unstable garbled data, like a holographic projection with a bad connection.
It had no feet; it just hovered three inches above the ground, floating erratically toward me.
[WARNING: High-Risk Spirit Data Detected!] [Type: Wandering Soul (Funeral Variant)] [Trait: Physical Immunity / Mental Pollution]
It floated to the counter.
I watched helplessly as it passed right through the solid wood of the counter and arrived directly above me.
A massive, indescribable weight pressed onto my chest. Like a cold tombstone, it pinned my ribs down dead, making it impossible to breathe.
It slowly lowered its head.
I saw its face clearly.
That wasn't a human face. It was the face of a traditional Chinese ceremonial paper doll. Pale without a trace of blood, with two round, bright red rouge circles painted on its cheeks—mimicking a living human in the clumsiest, creepiest way.
It had no eyes; inside the sockets were two pitch-black holes staring dead at me. And that painted-on mouth grinned to an exaggerated arc, revealing a stiff, eerie smile.
"Hee... hee hee..."
The voice rang out. Not an electronic sound, but a sharp, high-pitched voice, like a performer singing Chinese Opera in a ghostly falsetto, drilling straight into my brain.
"New Shopkeeper..." "Do you accept... money from the Netherworld here?"
With its voice, several round white paper coins with square holes in the middle appeared out of thin air in its hand, drifting down lightly onto my face.
Bone-chillingly cold. The moment that spirit money touched my skin, I felt my life force being frantically extracted.
[HP -10] [Sanity -15] [Status: Soul Freeze]
I'm going to die. I'm going to be crushed to death here alive, becoming its scapegoat.
A strong will to survive finally broke through the shackles of fear.
"Get... Get away!"
I let out a low, beast-like growl in my throat, using all my strength to bite the tip of my tongue hard.
Severe pain and the taste of blood instantly stimulated my brain. Control of my body returned!
"AHHH!!!"
I roared, springing up from the ground, grabbing the fire axe at my hand, and chopping down viciously at that Paper Effigy Face inches away.
"DIE!!!"
This swing gathered all my fear and anger.
However.
Whoosh—
The axe blade passed through its body without any resistance. Like chopping through a cloud of smoke. Its paper body only twisted slightly, leaving not even a cut, instead splashing up a cloud of data dust like incense ash, blinding my eyes.
It was unharmed. The smile on its face became even brighter, the corners of its mouth grinning almost to its ears.
"Hee hee... useless..." "Weapons of the living... cannot hurt souls from the Netherworld..."
It reached out those pale paper hands, passing directly through my chest, and choked my heart.
Cold! Extreme chill spread through my blood vessels to my whole body. My heart beat slower and slower, my vision began to darken, and my ears were filled with that sharp opera-like laughter.
[WARNING: Core Data Damaged!]
"Old Buddy... is useless..."
I looked at the axe in my hand in despair. Faced with this kind of dirty thing that defies scientific logic, physical attacks are a joke.
Am I going to die? Really going to die in this ghostly place?
No! I'm not resigned to this! I just got the power on, just drank hot water!
Since physics is useless... Since it's a thing from the underworld...
Light! These dirty things are afraid of light!
With the last shred of my conscious mind, I let go of the axe, my trembling hand reaching into my pocket and pulling out that scorching hot phone.
My fingers swiped the screen by muscle memory and turned on the flashlight.
"Underworld spirit, huh? Wandering soul, huh?" "I'll give you a Consecration!!!"
I turned the phone screen brightness to max and simultaneously activated the [SOS Strobe Mode], shoving it right into that paper face.
Flash!
A blinding high-frequency LED flash exploded in the dim lobby.
For a data spirit that relies on gloom and fear to exist, this kind of high-frequency modern light source is simply the strongest Exorcism Holy Light.
SCREECH—!!!
A scream of extreme misery rang out, like tearing fabric, or some sharp instrument going out of tune.
That paper effigy face instantly twisted and deformed under the intense light; the red rouge painted on it flowed down like blood. Its semi-transparent body looked like it was set on fire, starting to smoke violently and disintegrate.
It let go of the hand choking my heart, covering its face in pain, retreating frantically.
"It works!"
I felt the pressure on my body lighten. Although I was still shaking, I knew I had bet correctly.
I held the phone high, like a crazy Taoist priest wielding a peach wood sword, pressing forward step by step.
"Don't you love to smile? Smile again for me!" "I'll show you the true light! Electronic Exorcism!"
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
The phone flashlight strobed frantically. The wandering soul was forced to shrink into a ball, emitting incoherent curses and wails from its mouth, finally turning into a streak of gray smoke, fleeing awkwardly through the main door and into the fog outside.
The lobby returned to deathly silence. The smell of burning Joss paper in the air slowly dissipated.
Huff... huff...
I let my hand drop weakly and turned off the flashlight. My whole body slid down against the counter to the floor.
The phone was so hot I could barely hold it.
I picked up the axe on the ground, looking at this "Old Buddy," my heart filled with bitterness and lingering fear.
My back was completely soaked. The suffocating feeling of "Ghost Pressing Bed" just now still made my hands and feet cold when I thought about it.
This night thoroughly woke me up.
I always thought that as long as I had an axe, as long as I was ruthless enough, I could hold this place. But this world doesn't play fair.
There are zombies, mechanical beasts, and this kind of underworld stuff that is completely immune to physical attacks. What if my phone ran out of battery just now? What if next time it's not one, but a group?
I would undoubtedly die.
I looked at the grayed-out [Employee Recruitment] icon on the phone screen.
Before, I thought it was too expensive, thought about saving money. Now it seems, this isn't a matter of money; it's a matter of life.
"Recruit."
Supporting myself on the counter to stand up, my eyes became incredibly firm, carrying a trace of madness.
"Must recruit."
"I don't care if you are human or ghost, I don't care which grave you crawled out of... As long as you can hit this kind of dirty thing, as long as you can help me keep watch at night..."
"Even if I have to sell my blood, I will recruit you!"