Raising ghost children was an unspeakably evil act—condemned by society for generations.
If the Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal had used his own life force to raise a ghost boy, John might have turned a blind eye. After all, some people who had lost their own children chose to keep lingering souls close, in desperate attempts to ease their pain.
As long as they harmed no one, it was just a matter of personal choice.
But what enraged John was the fact that this depraved Taoist was using innocent lives to nourish the spirit of a ghost child. That was a forbidden act, a line that must never be crossed. Whoever dared to violate it had to be punished—severely.
So when the ghost boy burst forth from the shadows, John's eyes flew open—and a razor-sharp streak of lightning shot out like a divine blade.
Pop!
The evil ghost child screamed as it was struck. Acrid black smoke hissed from its body as it whimpered and scrambled behind the Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal for protection.
"You bastard! Who dares interrupt my ritual?!"
The Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal abruptly stopped chanting, his sinister gaze sweeping over the crowd until it locked onto John.
Everyone else remained in a deep hypnotic trance—unaware and defenseless. Only John stood alert.
It had to be him.
"You! You ruined everything!" the Immortal spat.
John rose calmly and sneered. "You call yourself an immortal? You're nothing but a yellow-browed scum."
The Taoist flinched, his gaze sharp with suspicion. "You… you know magic?"
John remained silent.
Taking that as a yes, the Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal's tone shifted. "Since we're the same, I'll give you a choice. Take your friends and leave. Stay out of my affairs from now on. Fair enough?"
John shook his head. "Not fair enough for me."
"You really want to make an enemy out of me?"
The Immortal's face darkened, eyes glinting with menace.
John's voice was cold as steel. "Men like you should be eliminated. Anyone with even a shred of conscience would make the same choice."
"Humph! Don't try to intimidate me!" The Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal roared. "You want to die that badly?!"
With a sneer, he waved his hand, and a blood-red flag shimmered into existence. He pointed it directly at John.
"My child… KILL HIM!"
The ghost boy shrieked and lunged forward with a ghastly screech, its face twisted with malice.
John didn't flinch. He stood tall, arms relaxed at his sides. His eyes gleamed with crackling electricity. As the spirit neared, he murmured softly:
"You're just a minor demon. How dare you show your face in front of me? Begone!"
The moment the words left his lips, a brilliant blue rune formed in mid-air. It shimmered with ancient power before surging forward to meet the ghost child.
"Yaaaaiiii—!"
The ghost child was immediately enveloped in a vortex of black smoke, shrieking in agony. Terrified, it dared not approach again.
The Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal was shocked.
"...A rune drawn from void?"
Only the most powerful masters of mystic arts could conjure a rune from nothingness. Even he needed talismans and tools—he couldn't do that without assistance.
But John… John had summoned it with just his voice.
That was a level of power the Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal had never encountered before.
Terrified, he made a swift decision.
With a sharp motion of the blood flag, he forcefully triggered the ghost boy. The tortured spirit howled and convulsed, twisted by a sudden influx of dark energy.
"YAAAAHHHH—!"
But instead of attacking John again, the ghost boy darted into Zara Remar's body.
Zara's energy shifted immediately. A dark, eerie aura emanated from her. Her eyes slowly opened—void of light and soul, shadowed by black and purple marks etched between her brows.
"You damn brat!" the Immortal roared. "We'll settle this another day. I'll have my revenge!"
With that, he leaped off Skyline Mountain and vanished into the mist.
He had no choice but to abandon the pawn to save the commander.
John's brow furrowed. He didn't pursue. Instead, he rushed to Zara Remar, gently laying her down.
Then, without hesitation, he slapped her.
Pah! Pah! Pah!
Three crisp slaps later, Zara suddenly let out a sharp cry as the ghost boy was forced from her head, screaming in rage and pain.
With a swift motion, John raised his hand and trapped the ghost in a glowing rune, locking it away.
"Mr. Lopez…"
Zara stirred awake, her voice a faint whisper. But her brows quickly drew together in pain.
"What… what just happened?"
She touched her aching head and looked around. But something felt off.
Wendy Shelby stood still, eyes shut. So did Kley Sinclaire. Everyone else was exactly the same—motionless, trapped in their dreams.
"Wendy? Kley?" she called. "Wake up!"
Nothing.
She turned to John with growing concern. "Mr. Lopez… What's wrong with them?"
John explained, "They were hypnotized by the Yellow-Eyebrow Immortal. You were, too. I just woke you up."
Zara blinked, realization dawning on her. So that's why he slapped her.
She paused. "Why did that Taoist hypnotize us?"
"He wanted to use you all. For energy. For rituals."
John summarized what had happened, and by the end, Zara's delicate, porcelain-like face was a portrait of disbelief and wonder.
"You mean… right now, you're holding a ghost in your hand?" she asked, eyes wide.
John nodded.
Zara's curiosity outweighed her fear. "Can I see him? Please? I've never seen a ghost before!"
John chuckled. "You might regret it. He's not a pretty sight."
"I don't care! I have to see him! Please, Mr. Lopez?"
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely!"
With a small smile, John gestured toward her eyes, unlocking her spiritual sight.
Zara peered ahead expectantly—and gasped.
Two giant black eyes, as big as copper bells, swirled right in front of her face. They blinked with eerie rhythm and oozed a strange, unnatural presence.
"Ahhhhh!"
Zara shrieked, stumbling backward and nearly collapsing in fright.