Chapter 3: I Knew I Couldn’t Escape Misfortune

The earlier waves of malevolent ghosts were pretty run-of-the-mill. When Chen Tutu dragged them over, all I had to do was slap them with a talisman like swatting flies. But this batch felt different, like there was a hornet hidden among the houseflies, butt in the air, just waiting to sting.

In that split second, I pulled off a showy spin in place, quickly scanning dozens of ghosts. Then, with a flick of my pen, I sent a Ghost-Freezing Talisman flying toward one particular spot. “Freeze!”

“Hey—” I was about to warn him, but Chen Tutu was already there in a flash, like he’d pulled off a League-of-Legends-style teleport. With his right hand raised high, his long fingers formed a strange seal before he slammed it down onto the ghost’s head.

“Eeeeee—” The shriek that followed was like nails scraping glass, making my scalp tighten and goosebumps prickle all over. Right after that blow landed, Chen Tutu sprang away like he had springs in his soles.

Meanwhile, I was rushing forward, planning to jump into the fight. But seeing him bounce aside so suddenly threw me off. Then I heard a little “pop,” and a splash of foul-smelling liquid sprayed all over me.

Holy crap! Covered head to toe in that putrid liquid, and the stench—man, it was the kind of smell that would make gods and mortals alike drop dead. I couldn’t even cry if I tried.

I felt so stupid. Really. I’d hoped Chen Tutu’s arrival would save me from misery, but nope—my terrible luck still clung to me like old gum on a shoe.

“Urgh…” I couldn’t hold it in; my dinner came spewing out. The stench was lethal, like a mound of dead rats rotting in some ancient, unwashed latrine, then left to ferment on top of that.

How potent was it? Even the mindless ghosts backed away a few steps, staring at me from a distance like they’d seen something horrifying—more effective than any Daoist technique, I swear.

“Dude, at this point, you might as well have let me die tonight… ugh…” I was retching so hard that bile was practically drained from my guts, tears and snot pouring uncontrollably.

“Don’t say that. ‘A bad life is better than a good death,’ right? Dying over something like this isn’t worth it.” His voice was calm as ever, but through my watery, blurry eyes, I could see the gleam of schadenfreude in his expression.

“Damn it, I’ll stuff a handful of this crap in his mouth later,” I thought, still gagging like I was about to expire. Eventually, Chen Tutu must have realized I wasn’t going to stop puking anytime soon, so he approached with his nose pinched, frowning hard. His free hand moved at lightning speed, fingers flying so fast they left afterimages.

I watched in surprise and, in my half-dead state, mumbled, “What the… Naruto ninja hand seals?”

He paused, stopped forming the seals, and gave me a bewildered look. “Even with half a foot in the grave, you still can’t rein in that random imagination of yours?”

I’d already puked until there was nothing left, my head pounding like a drum, vision blacking out every few seconds. Groping for the bed, I leaned onto it to rest a moment, then began peeling off my clothes in a weird, wobbly, half-dancing way.

Honestly, I didn’t mean to look so suggestive, but my head was spinning too much to keep still. Apparently, Chen Tutu couldn’t stand watching me sway around trying to undress, so he sped up his chanting and hand seals. By the time I’d managed to get my outer shirt off, he slammed a seal onto my forehead.

All that filthy liquid melted away like fresh snow under a blazing sun, vanishing in seconds, and the stench quickly cleared as well.

I lay on the bed, panting for air. Still feeling half-dead, I croaked, “Dude, you had that skill all along—couldn’t you have used it sooner? I nearly lost my life here! Were you doing that on purpose?”

Chen Tutu stayed frosty and silent, but that glimmer of amusement in his eyes nearly made me jump up and punch him. Damn, he totally did that on purpose. Sure enough, handsome guys are never reliable.

In no time, the remaining ghosts were reduced to just a handful. Both of us paused for breath. Using spiritual power non-stop drains you fast. We ended up sitting on the bed, each lighting a cigarette. For a moment, the room was quiet.

“Thanks for tonight, man,” I said. Even though I knew his name, I couldn’t decide how to address him. Tutu? Bro Tu? Chen bro? Every option sounded off, so I just stuck with calling him “man.”

“No need. We’ll be working together for a while yet. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Lin Xu, same ‘Xu’ as in ‘continue.’ So from what you’re saying, you’re here for the long haul?”

“Mm. As you know, I need you.”

When he said that, a chill ran down my spine. I stared at him blankly. The guy was good-looking, sure, but I’m into women—what did he have in mind?

Then I thought, oh well. I’m on borrowed time anyway. Living beats dying, right? And I need him to see karma for me. Worst case, I’d ask him to go easy, and maybe I could try to deal with it…

He caught my look and raised an eyebrow. On his cold face, a flash of disdain appeared. “Could you think about something normal for once? Seriously, what messed-up stuff do you have in that head of yours?”

I exhaled in relief. Good—my rear end could breathe easy, no storm on the horizon. “So you mean you need me, a Talisman Master, to protect you?” I asked.

“Yeah, exactly. The Dark Practitioners are hunting me down right now.” He took a long drag, stood up, and crushed the cigarette butt underfoot. “If you want me gone, say the word and I’ll go. I won’t drag you down with me.”

I stubbed out my smoke too and smiled. “Come on, it’s just people out for blood, right? Besides, if they come, even better. They killed my dad—I’m definitely settling that score.”

“Wait, Uncle Lin was killed by Dark Practitioners? Didn’t you say…”

“It was part of a scheme, that’s all.”

At that, Chen Tutu’s eyes shimmered. His voice dropped to a murmur. “My parents were also killed by the Dark Practitioners. But with no Talisman Master to team up with, I couldn’t unleash my full power. All I could do was keep running. If I die, my parents’ murders will never be avenged.”

“So just stay here. We’ll settle the Dark Practitioners’ tab one step at a time.”

Suddenly, I caught a scent in the air. It was the smell of lilacs on the verge of rotting—a faint floral sweetness tinged with something bitter and spoiled. I knew it all too well, right down to my bones.

I gripped the Judge’s Brush and glanced at Chen Tutu. His gaze was also on me, eyes shining eerily bright, like a ravenous wolf in the dark.

He shot me a look that made my skin crawl. “Dark Practitioners,” he pronounced each syllable carefully.

“Let’s go out there and mess them up,” I replied without hesitation.