[HOST INTEGRITY: 15%]
[LOCATION: THE OLD BELL TOWER]
[WARNING: RESENTMENT DENSITY CRITICAL]
The air inside the Bell Tower didn't taste like air. It tasted like copper coins and stagnant water.
Ren stood at the bottom of the spiral staircase, looking up into the darkness. To the naked eye, it was just a dusty, abandoned stairwell covered in bird droppings.
To Ren's [Spirit Sight], it was a throat. The walls were pulsing with black veins of malice, and the "wind" whistling down from the belfry sounded suspiciously like a girl weeping.
"Jian," Ren said, his voice flat. "Stay here. Guard the door. If Ye Lingshan or a teacher comes near, create a distraction."
"Distraction?" Jian squeaked, clutching his backpack. "Like what?"
"I don't know. Fake a seizure. Start a fire. Just buy me five minutes."
Ren didn't wait for an answer. He stepped onto the first stair.
CRACK.
The moment his foot touched the wood, the atmosphere shifted. The gravity in the tower doubled.
[SYSTEM ALERT: INTENTIONAL TRESPASS]
[THE TENANT IS HOSTILE]
Ren grabbed the rusting handrail. His interface flashed red: [PHYSICAL STRESS: HIGH].
He didn't wince. He didn't complain. He simply checked his stamina bar and adjusted his breathing to conserve oxygen.
I have 12 minutes of activity before collapse, Ren calculated coldly. Enough time to conduct an interview.
He climbed.
First floor. The weeping got louder.
Second floor. The shadows on the walls started to detach, forming grasping hands that swiped at his sling.
Ren didn't flinch. He kept his eyes locked on the trapdoor at the top.
"I am not here to play," he whispered to the shadows, his voice carrying the weight of a manager silencing a rowdy breakroom. "I am here to hire."
By the time he reached the belfry, his vision was swimming, but his focus was absolute.
He kicked the trapdoor open.
The top of the tower was open to the sky. The massive bronze bell hung in the center, silent and green with oxidation.
And standing on the ledge, looking out over the school courtyard, was Her.
She wore the Northwood High uniform, but it was tattered, shifting like smoke. Her skin was the color of a bruise. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle.
She turned slowly. Her eyes were gone—replaced by two hollow pits of black rot.
[ENTITY: LIAN (THE SUICIDE GHOST)]
[RANK: VENGEFUL SPIRIT (TYPE B)]
[STATE: CHAOTIC]
SCREEEEE!
She didn't ask who he was. She screamed—a sonic shockwave of pure hate.
The windows of the tower shattered.
Ren was thrown back against the bronze bell. CLANG.
His ears rang. His health bar flickered.
[HP: 15% \rightarrow 12%]
"Cease!" Ren shouted, struggling to stand.
She didn't listen. She lunged. Her fingers elongated into spectral claws, aiming for his throat.
Ren pulled the Tiger Seal. He held it up like a shield.
"I SAID SUBMIT!"
The red light of the Seal flared. It hit her like a physical wall.
She stopped mid-air, hissing, her claws inches from his face. The Authority of the Seal was holding her back, but just barely. She was struggling against it, her resentment boiling over.
"Why?!" she shrieked. Her voice was a distorted glitch. "Why are you alive?! Why do they get to live?!"
The pressure was immense. The Tiger Seal was hot in Ren's hand.
I can't hold her with brute force, Ren realized. My soul is strong, but this body is a cheap battery. It's draining too fast.
He needed to end this. Not with violence, but with Protocol.
"Think," Ren gritted out. "How did I bind the General of the North? How did I shackle the 10,000 rebels?"
I didn't beat them. I gave them a purpose.
The ghost pushed harder. The red barrier cracked.
Ren's vision went black.
Then, a sound cut through the chaos.
Not a scream.
A bell.
A heavy, deep, brass bell ringing from the depths of history.
DOOOOONG.
The blue System window in Ren's vision didn't just flicker. It glitched. The pixels tore apart, revealing a layer of blinding GOLD code underneath.
[CRITICAL SYNC DETECTED]
[TRIGGER: OVERWHELMING AUTHORITY IN A WEAK VESSEL]
[ACCESSING ARCHIVE: TIER 1 MEMORY...]
[DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.]
Flashback.
Ren wasn't in the tower.
He was sitting on a throne of black iron. The sky was burning.
Before him, a thousand captured demon soldiers knelt in the ash. They were screaming, chaotic, wild.
The Ancient Ren didn't shout. He didn't use a sword.
He simply opened a scroll.
"Chaos is inefficient," the Ancient Ren stated.
As he spoke, chains of golden light erupted from the ground, wrapping around the necks of the demons, turning them from a mob into an Army.
Reality Snap.
Ren opened his eyes. The gold light faded from his retina, but the words remained burned into his tongue.
He looked at the screeching ghost. He wasn't afraid. He felt... Administrative.
He dropped the Tiger Seal barrier.
Lian lunged, her claws reaching for his heart.
Ren didn't dodge. He stood his ground and spoke the Tier 1 Memory.
"By the Iron Law of the Ninth Sector..."
His voice changed. It wasn't the raspy voice of a teenager. It was the reverberating, multi-layered voice of a Minister.
The air in the tower froze. The wind stopped. The dust hung suspended in mid-air.
Lian stopped mid-lunge. She choked, clutching her throat.
"...I hereby audit your grievance," Ren continued, his eyes glowing with a faint golden rim. "And I find your death... Unresolved."
He reached out. He didn't punch her. He grabbed her spectral wrist.
His hand didn't phase through her. It burned her with the heat of a branding iron.
[SKILL UNLOCKED: SOUL-BINDING CHANT]
"You want to kill them," Ren said, his voice dropping to a ruthless whisper. "The boys who pushed you. The teachers who looked away. But you are just a ghost haunting a stairwell. You are unauthorized noise."
Lian trembled. The black rot in her eyes receded for a second, revealing the terrified girl underneath. "I... I just want them to pay..."
"Rage is useless without Order," Ren said coldly. "Chaos gets you purged by hunters like Ye Lingshan. Structure gets you results."
He released her wrist and held out his hand.
"I am not a Priest. I will not send you to heaven."
"I am a Businessman. And I have a vacancy."
Ren smiled. It was the smile of a CEO offering a hostile merger.
"Sign the contract, Lian. Become my Foreman. Run my factory. Manufacture the chains that will bind this city."
"Do this..." Ren leaned in closer. "...and I will give you the authorization to flay the skin off the men who killed you. Legally."
Lian looked at him. She looked at the red Tiger Seal glowing in his pocket. She felt the ancient, crushing weight of the Law he just spoke.
For the first time since her death, she didn't feel lost. She felt Managed.
Slowly, the feral hiss died in her throat.
She dropped to her knees.
She lowered her forehead until it touched Ren's dirty sneakers.
"I accept... the terms," she whispered.
[CONTRACT ESTABLISHED]
[NEW EMPLOYEE ACQUIRED: LIAN (FOREMAN)]
[LOYALTY: ORDER-BASED]
The oppressive atmosphere in the tower vanished instantly.
Ren exhaled, bracing himself against the bell to keep from falling over.
[HP: 10%]
"Get up," Ren commanded, his voice returning to normal. "Fix your face. You look unprofessional."
Lian stood up. The rot faded. Her uniform mended itself. She looked like a normal, pale student—except for the faint red chain tattooed around her neck.
"What are your orders, Boss?" she asked, her voice hollow but obedient.
Ren looked at the time. Lunch was over.
"Go to the Last Stop Factory," Ren said. "Start the machines. Prepare the vats."
Lian bowed. She dissolved into black smoke and shot out of the tower toward the industrial district.
Ren stood alone in the belfry. He looked at his hand. The golden energy was fading, but the System pinged with a new notification.
It wasn't a level up. It was a warning.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[BUSINESS ACTIVITY DETECTED]
[WARNING: YOU ARE OPERATING WITHOUT A CLASS-C MERCHANT PERMIT]
[PENALTY FOR NON-COMPLIANCE: SOUL FORFEITURE]
Ren stared at the red text and let out a dry laugh.
"Of course," he whispered, turning to the stairs. "The ghosts didn't kill me. But the paperwork might."