Chapter Thirty-Two: Beating Without Listening to Explanations
With the weakest tone, it spoke the most chilling words—such was the state of the headless ghost now. As it uttered those words, five more eerie entities appeared behind it. Upon arrival, they melted into the ghost's form, and a spherical object emerged at its neck—a head, yet not quite a head. This grotesque sphere bore features of all five strange beings, awkwardly stitched together like a monstrous patchwork.
The headless ghost reached toward Fang Mu, still murmuring, “Brother… head… give me…”
Fang Mu’s eyes narrowed. He thrust the Ghost Dagger at the creature’s chest. “You want a head… come and take it!” The blade passed straight through, encountering no resistance. Not even his true energy could harm it, as if the headless ghost did not truly exist.
“Brother… shall I trade you this ball for your head?” The ghost pressed the ball forward. A rigid sensation crept into Fang Mu’s limbs, spreading until his entire body stiffened, even in places best left unnamed.
The ghost floated upward, the ball dropping to the floor as it pressed its hand to Fang Mu’s shoulder. A faint tearing feeling tugged at his neck; icy hunger and despair radiated from the ghost, clouding Fang Mu’s senses. Just then, the jade hairpin atop his head flashed with tranquil white light, restoring his clarity.
True energy surged within him, and Fang Mu quickly regained control. He readied himself to counterattack when a sound came from his shoulder.
“Meow—”
A Bai let out a low growl, its body shrouded in black mist, appearing more terrifying than ever. The headless ghost shuddered, seemingly frightened of A Bai, and faded away like a phantom.
Fang Mu glanced around, brows tightly knit. The room was now empty.
After its growl, A Bai’s gaze swept the surroundings, its low growls growing more frequent.
“Head… head… head…”
An icy voice echoed from all directions.
Drawing his butcher’s knife, Fang Mu wielded the Ghost Dagger in his left hand and the butcher’s knife in his right, sneering, “Hiding your head but showing your tail.”
This was not a rule-type apparition—it had come straight for his head, something rule-bound spirits never dared. It wasn’t a corpse-type, nor a rule-type; that left only soul-type. No physical body, immune to the blood-stained bellyband—so how could he deal with this one?
Darkness crept in again, sweeping toward Fang Mu. The oil lamp atop the desk extinguished; not even a finger was visible in the pitch black.
“Meow—”
In the room, only A Bai’s growl and the chilling voices remained.
Yet A Bai merely growled in warning, seemingly wary of this headless ghost—perhaps still too young.
“Head… head… head…”
The darkness enveloped Fang Mu, touching his body. In the next instant, his true energy boiled, surging throughout him. The darkness recoiled as if scorched by fire, keeping its distance.
“Head…”
The cold voice persisted, but did not approach, evidently wary of his energy.
“It fears true energy, yet at first it was unharmed by it…” Fang Mu frowned, calm amidst boundless darkness.
The darkness lingered for a moment, then gradually faded, restoring peace. A Bai’s growling subsided, relaxing visibly.
“Gone?”
Fang Mu mused inwardly at A Bai’s demeanor. He realized the cat could serve as a tool for detecting apparitions.
With the black mist vanished, Fang Mu searched the room again, finding nothing.
“Did it really leave…” He stroked his chin, turning to A Bai on his shoulder. “Did you notice anything?”
A Bai raised its head, sniffed the air, then turned toward a direction and began to growl anew.
Fang Mu searched that way—nothing but emptiness.
“Could it be outside?”
If not in the room, perhaps outside. Fang Mu stepped onto the street, following A Bai’s gaze…
It pointed toward the county office!
“It’s gone to the county office. During the day, the constable took away the girl’s corpse—it’s looking for her body.”
Without delay, Fang Mu ran straight toward the county office.
…
At the gate, he paused. No officers guarded the entrance; the doors were shut tight.
“Better slip in quietly.” At the corner of the wall, Fang Mu pushed off with both feet, leaping over like a bird.
No sooner had he landed in the courtyard than several blades whistled toward him.
“Swish!”
His butcher’s knife flashed, shattering the incoming blades.
“Brother Fang, what fine skill!” The leader, a constable, clapped enthusiastically, smiling broadly. Behind him stood a dozen officers.
Fang Mu frowned. “Why are you here?”
“Waiting for you.” The constable called out, “Sir, the real culprit is found!”
The magistrate Yu stepped out, surprised to see Fang Mu. “It’s you!”
Fang Mu: “…”
He felt there must be some misunderstanding. He’d come to investigate quietly, not expecting this scene.
The situation became awkward, the silence oppressive.
The constable spoke loudly, “I always felt something was off—the girl was so young, how could she die suddenly? If we’d stayed, we’d have tipped off the culprit. So I had local residents keep watch. Guess what they saw?”
He sounded proud, as if envisioning his own rise in rank and fortune, pointing at Fang Mu. “They saw you sneaking into the house, heard fighting and a cat’s cry. Now you’ve turned up here. What do you have to say?”
Magistrate Yu signaled; the officers surrounded Fang Mu.
“It’s not quite like that…” Fang Mu tried to explain.
But Yu would not allow it, ordering, “Take him first—interrogate later!”
The officers moved in to seize him.
Fang Mu put away the butcher’s knife and Ghost Dagger, watched them approach, and threw a punch.
If words wouldn’t suffice, he’d stop explaining.
He was on important business; they were simply making trouble.
Moments later, Fang Mu looked down at the fallen men and said coolly, “Where is the body?”
“I won’t tell you,” Magistrate Yu replied, resolute and righteous.
Fang Mu merely grunted and headed straight for the morgue.
Yu: “?”
“Sir Yu, you should work on your acting skills.”
“Acting skills?”
Yu found himself unfamiliar with the term.
Fang Mu pushed open the morgue door, and just as he expected, the girl’s body lay inside.