Chapter 88

Chapter 88
## Chapter 88: Lingering Spirits

The spectral entities haunted our every step, refusing to grant us a moment of peace.

“Filthy ghosts.”

As several hours slipped by, the only hunters remaining were those possessing a mental fortitude robust enough to deflect the spirits’ attempts at soul-snatching.

Naturally, the constant strain of repelling these psychic intrusions had left everyone looking completely drained.

Once the ghosts realized they couldn’t hijack our bodies, they pivoted to a more predictable strategy.

“Poltergeist activity.”

Blocked from inhabiting living flesh, they began possessing inanimate objects to strike at us. Hunting knives secured to belts suddenly slid from their sheaths, whistling through the air like guided missiles. Random stones and jagged tree limbs nearby jerked upward, hurtling toward our group.

Under normal circumstances, flying debris wouldn’t pose much of a threat to a seasoned hunter. However, these items were saturated with a dense, toxic mana fueled by pure spite.

The impact was agonizing. While the physical wounds were relatively minor, the connection between a weakened body and a frayed mind meant that every hit chipped away at our overall resolve.

“At least there’s a silver lining,” I muttered, batting away a soaring rock with the palm of my hand.

Just as our magical strikes did little more than graze the ethereal spirits, their telekinetic tantrums couldn’t actually deliver a killing blow. Had a living hunter channeled that much mana into those projectiles, we would likely be counting corpses by now.

“Chan-seok, can’t your pyrotechnics clear them out?”

“In theory, yes.”

These beings were barely tethered to reality, held together by nothing but lingering resentment. A single flare of Paradox Flame would incinerate those grudges in a heartbeat.

“The catch is the gas masks. If I redirect the Paradox Flame to hunt the ghosts, the protective fire currently hovering over our heads will go out.”

The dilemma was simple: using the flame as a weapon meant losing our defense against the toxic atmosphere.

“That won’t be an issue.”

Han Sang-ah reached into her gear and produced three masks caked in dried crimson. They had been stripped from hunters who had succumbed to possession.

“…You’re joking, right? We’re supposed to wear those?”

Jeong No-hun’s face contorted with disgust. Fresh gore still seeped from the filters. Since the previous owners had likely coughed up blood while wearing them, the interiors were undoubtedly a biohazard.

“Why not? Every hunter assigned to the Jaun Valley operation passed a health screening. No contagious diseases to worry about.”

Without a second thought, Han Sang-ah strapped one over her face. As she adjusted it, a small glob of congealed blood fell from the rim.

It was no wonder the spirits failed to possess her; her mental grit was as impressive as it was unsettling.

“Can we at least give them a quick scrub?”

“Every water source in this vicinity is tainted. We only have our sealed drinking rations left.”

Wasting that water now would mean a grueling twelve-hour stretch without a single drop to drink.

“The human psyche isn’t invincible. Do you really think you can hold off a ghost’s influence while dying of thirst?”

I punctuated the thought by tapping the shaft of my spear.

“Make a mistake out here, and you’ll find a blade in your ribs instead of a paycheck in your hand.”

Accepting his fate, Jeong No-hun squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the blood-stained mask into place.

The moment he was secure, I lashed out with a hand wreathed in obsidian fire, catching a lunging spirit by the face. Paradox Flame latched onto it instantly, turning its piercing wail into a fading trail of ash.

With my power fully unleashed, any ghosts that dared approach us were treated like dry kindling tossed into a furnace—flaring up and vanishing in an instant.

“What’s the status of the other units?” I checked in through the comms.

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

Current attrition rate for the total force is approximately 8%.

That wasn’t terrible, considering we had been surveying the area for three hours.

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

Most teams failed to take the aggressive stance you did, Hunter Yoo Chan-seok. That hesitation accounts for over 70% of our casualties.

In short, people were getting hurt because they were trying to be merciful or overly cautious.

“And the current trend?”

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

Tactics are shifting toward lethal force now. However, witnessing the deaths of possessed comrades has caused some hunters to suffer mental collapses, triggering a chain reaction of further possessions.

It was a grim cycle: a friend is taken, the team is forced to kill them, the trauma breaks the survivors, and the ghosts move in for the next kill.

“It’s an occupational hazard.”

We had geared up for the toxins of Jaun Valley, not a localized haunting. That was a risk the hunters had accepted.

⚙ SEAGULL TEAM RECOMENDATION ⚙

Strategic analysis suggests a withdrawal after another 12 hours of scouting. At our current velocity, we will have mapped roughly 32% of the Jaun Valley Erosion Zone.

That was ideal. It proved the Seagull Team was worth their massive commissions. Reaching 32% meant the entire zone could be cleared in three days, or perhaps even sooner if we located the Erosion Core tomorrow.

“Acknowledged. We’ll stick to the schedule.”

Another twelve-hour slog lay ahead. No breaks for food, no stops for water. The Jaun Valley spirits tracked human presence like starving predators, their endless, grating shrieks designed to snap our nerves.

“This feels far too intense for a Rank 1 designation,” Han Sang-ah remarked, watching a spirit bounce harmlessly off her mental barrier.

“I agree.”

A Rank 1 zone shouldn’t be this oppressive, especially since we were still just skirting the perimeter. Something far more dangerous was clearly waiting in the heart of the valley.

We pushed forward relentlessly, using Paradox Flame to swat away spirits like bothersome insects. After twelve hours of constant patrolling, we finally retreated to the base at Harbin.

“This represents our surveyed progress.”

We had fallen slightly behind the Seagull Team’s projections. We hadn’t quite breached the city limits of Changchun, having only cleared the outer districts.

Adakawa, who had traded her flamboyant magical girl attire for a professional suit, leaned over the map.

“Roughly 70 kilometers to the northwest of Changchun, there is a cluster of lakes.”

“What’s the significance?”

The leader of the Seagull Operating Team chimed in through the earbud immediately.

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

We have lost contact with all 15 hunters dispatched to that sector.

“There must have been a final transmission.”

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

The last report described the water as a deep, bubbling violet, emitting thick plumes of smoke.

So, the haze smothering Jaun Valley was being pumped out by those corrupted lakes.

“How many of these lakes are we talking about near Changchun?”

⚙ IN-EAR NOTIFICATION ⚙

The count is significant. At least seven major lakes or reservoirs.

All of them were acting like giant industrial humidifiers, churning out purple mist.

“What are the physical effects on those without protection?”

“The reports mention localized tumors filled with pus and severe pulmonary failure.”

The fog was a multi-faceted killer, but it shared one universal trait.

“Vivid, terrifying hallucinations. Self-mutilation is common, but more often, they become homicidal toward their own teammates.”

The logic was simple: the ghosts used the hallucinations to finish off the survivors.

“They wouldn’t have just taken their masks off voluntarily,” Adakawa noted.

“Several of the missing fifteen had high innate resistances to toxins.”

And yet, they had still vanished.

“It sounds like the concentration of fog near those reservoirs is too high for standard equipment or natural immunity to handle.”

It was a wall of poison that surpassed normal defensive thresholds.

⚙ SEAGULL TEAM ⚙

Recommendation: Avoid these high-density sectors during future search patterns.

What kind of logic was that? If we skipped the most suspicious areas, we’d never find the Erosion Core. We might as well quit now.

I let the thought simmer before speaking.

“In that case, Han Sang-ah, Jeong No-hun, and I will form a specialized unit to investigate the zones the others can’t touch.”

Paradox Flame was the perfect counter. It didn’t just filter the purple haze; it sterilized the air entirely, much like a high-heat purification process.

No toxin could survive that fire.

“Even if you locate the core, the rest of the force can’t follow you through that fog.”

“I can extend a protective shield for up to 150 people,” Adakawa Nanami interjected, her expression turning grim.

“Then the assault team is capped at 150. Start picking the best candidates.”

The remaining hunters would be tasked with keeping the supply lines and retreat paths clear.

“The men are starting to complain, by the way,” Jeong No-hun added.

I nodded. I expected as much.

“There’s no loot.”

Most of these people were mercenaries at heart. The ghosts left nothing behind.

“Well, not nothing. They leave ectoplasm, but the market value is pathetic.”

Jeong No-hun took a loud bite of an apple he’d swiped from the table.

“Most of these guys aren’t mission-focused like you. They’re here for the gold.”

“And you?”

He tossed the apple up and caught it with a smirk.

“I’m expecting a massive bonus when this is over. I’m not going anywhere.”

He always knew the right thing to say.

“Regardless, we’ll refine the strategy starting tomorrow.”

⚙ CONFIRMED ⚙

Understood. We will update the routes and timelines to reflect the new plan.

The debrief was officially over.

“One more thing: bring me any hunters suffering from fog exposure. I can’t heal the physical damage to their lungs or skin, but I can burn the residual toxins out of their systems.”

Those affected by the fog were currently useless, trapped in a loop of paranoia. Furthermore, even those who hadn’t been possessed would likely suffer from nightmares; the ghosts always left a bit of their filth on a person’s soul.

I filled several large containers with water and ignited the Paradox Flame within them.

“…What is the plan here?”

“Tell the men to stand over these basins for a few minutes.”

It was essentially a spiritual decontamination shower. Instead of water, they would be bathed in heat. A moment later, Han Sang-ah returned.

“The hunters are hesitant. They’re afraid.”

“Cowards. How do they expect to survive a rift with such weak stomachs?”

I turned my gaze toward Jeong No-hun, who was lazily yawning in his chair.

“Jeong, get up. I need a veteran to show them it won’t kill them.”

He had spent enough time around my flames in Harbin to know the drill. He stood up, ready to lead by example.