This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Translator's note: Putuo is a very common name for Buddhism temples in China. I visited Shanghai recently and lived in a district which is also called Putuo. It was originally "Potalaka" in Sanskrit, which means "Brilliance". Mount Potalaka is the mythical dwelling of the Buddhist bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, said to exist in the seas south of India.
Fang Xiu held a pen and asked, "What should I do now?"
Yang Ming explained, "Hold the pen, touch it to the paper, draw circles, and chant, 'Pen Spirit, you were my past life, and I am your present.' Then, you'll feel a cold hand grab yours, and you can ask questions."
Fang Xiu nodded. Pen in hand, he started drawing circles on the paper, chanting the words.
After completing the process, a cold sensation spread from the pen. Suddenly, his hand stopped, not by his choice but because a cold, ghostly hand, like a woman's dead hand, held it.
The psychics could sense the cold presence and looked uneasy.
_'The Pen Spirit is quite powerful,'_they thought.
Someone said, "It follows its own rules, not harming everyone, which is good."
"Now you can ask," Yang Ming reminded.
Ignoring the others, Fang Xiu asked the Pen Spirit, "What is the true nature of the Specters in this world?"
Everyone looked shocked and worried.
"Fang Xiu, what kind of question is that?"
"Are you crazy? You can't handle the cost of such a question!"
Fang Xiu ignored them and observed the pen. Suddenly, the pen moved wildly, dragging his hand, scribbling on the paper until it tore, scratching the table.
The cold air in the room intensified.
"Aaaargh!"
Then, a loud, piercing scream came from the pen, making everyone cover their ears in agony. Wang Dehai, an ordinary person, even died on the spot, bleeding from every orifice.
Fang Xiu frowned, muttering, "Can't you answer? Or are you scared to?"
Suddenly, there was a loud explosion. Fang Xiu exploded on the spot, splattering blood and flesh all over the room's walls.
A few minutes later, Fang Xiu returned to the meeting room again.
He chanted again, and this time he asked, "Where did my resetting ability come from?"
BOOM!
"Why am I the only one in this world who can see the Specters?"
BOOM!
"Who wrote the words on the bedroom ceiling?"
BOOM!
"How can I kill my wife for good?"
BOOM!
As the cold presence reappeared, a cold, ghostly woman's hand grasped Fang Xiu's.
"You can ask now," Yang Ming reminded, just as before.
Fang Xiu, having died several times already, realized that the Pen Spirit couldn't or dared not answer his deep, secret questions. Asking forcefully only led to the Pen Spirit's frenzy and his own death, indicating that those questions were too deep and complicated for him to handle now.
"Where can I find the materialized Nightmare?" Fang Xiu asked calmly.
This time, the Pen Spirit didn't go mad but began writing on the paper while holding Fang Xiu's hand. To the others, it seemed like Fang Xiu was writing by himself.
Soon, one word appeared on the paper: Temple.
Everyone was puzzled.
Yang Ming cursed, "This Pen Spirit is useless! There are dozens of temples in Greenvine City; which one is it talking about?"
Fang Xiu frowned, not expecting the Pen Spirit to be cryptic. Before he could ask which temple specifically, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
Looking down, he saw a gaping hole in his chest, as if something invisible was devouring it.
His organs started to vanish, and his consciousness blurred amid the distant, fading gasps of others.
Fang Xiu knew he was dying and thought about his terrible luck, perhaps worsened by Yang Ming's presence.
Upon restarting, Fang Xiu directly asked which temple. He finally got the precise answer: Putuo Temple.
This time, the price was his head.
"Director Wang, my ability is luck, remember? Maybe the price will just be my pubic hair," Yang Ming said, laughing and ready to draw circles with the pen.
But again, Fang Xiu calmly intervened, saying, "No need to ask. Nightmare's true form is in Putuo Temple."
Everyone was stunned.
"How do you know Nightmare is in Putuo Temple?" Yang Ming asked, confused.
Fang Xiu calmly replied, "Don't forget, my ability is perception. I've already sensed it."
Only a few who knew the context, like Wang Dehai and Yang Ming, understood what Fang Xiu meant. It wasn't just perception; he had foreseen it.
Yang Ming also secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his luck ability and many trump cards, he didn't really want to gamble their life with the Pen Spirit. If the Pen Spirit could easily be used, it wouldn't have been sealed in a Mind Steel box.
"Since you've already sensed it, then there's no need for Yang Ming to ask further," Wang Dehai said.
Hearing this, the psychics who didn't know Fang Xiu found it hard to believe. They wondered how such a crucial decision could be made so lightly.
Putuo Temple was dozens of kilometers away from the Investigation Bureau, and they questioned what kind of extraordinary perception could detect something so far away.
A civilian psychic asked, "Director Wang, do you realize how far Putuo Temple is? How can a first-tier psychic like him sense Nightmare from so far away?"
Wang Dehai replied seriously, "Fang Xiu is a special perceptive psychic, different from the traditional sense. If he has sensed it, then it must be true."
The civilian psychic was about to say more. However, Yang Ming, the only third-tier psychic in Greenvine, interrupted, "What you need to do now is not to question but to unconditionally trust the Investigation Bureau and Fang Xiu. We're not joking about our lives or yours."
With Yang Ming's authority and power, all doubts were immediately suppressed.
"Fang Xiu, since you've sensed that Nightmare's true form is in Putuo Temple, what should our next move be?" Yang Ming asked.
The crowd was even more astonished, constantly glancing at Fang Xiu. They couldn't believe that both the director of the Investigation Bureau and Yang Ming had complete trust in Fang Xiu. They not only believed his perception without question but now even sought his guidance on their next course of action.