"Everyone, there're always more opportunities in dangerous situations!" Wang Dehai suddenly said.
In that moment, everyone looked at him.
Wang Dehai was just a human, but he was calmer than the usual psychic.
"Nightmare has no real body in our world, but now all of Greenvine City is covered by its Specter Zone. It's like we're in a dream, and only a dream can hurt a dream! This is our chance. We just need to find Nightmare's real body and beat it. Then we can get through this dangerous situation."
"Director Wang, you make it sound easy. Never mind beating Nightmare, finding it is hard enough for us. Greenvine City is so big, and we're in its Specter Zone. Where do we even start looking?"
Wang Dehai didn't seem angry at the question and the guy's impatient tone. He looked at Yang Ming and said, "Yang, please bring out that thing."
Yang Ming nodded and left. When he returned, he was holding a dark gold box. The box, made of Mind Steel, had no gaps and was sealed shut.
Everyone was focused on the box.
Then Yang Ming took a dark gold knife from his belt and cut the box open. The sound left the others cringing in discomfort.
The next second, the box opened, revealing a pen. An old, black pen, looking as if it was from the last century. As soon as the pen appeared, a cold Spectral air filled the room.
It was as if the pen was alive, with hateful eyes staring at everyone, chilling them.
"It's a Specter Gadget!" someone exclaimed.
Most psychics, unlike Fang Xiu and Yang Ming, had never seen a Specter Gadget. Each Specter Gadget was precious, not just anyone could have one.
Wang Dehai explained, "Right, this pen is a Specter Gadget, called the Spiritual Pen."
"The Spiritual Pen? Is it like the Pen Spirit game those foolish young people play?"
"Yes. We don't have much time. I'll explain quickly. Using this pen, if you pay a price, you can get the answer you want."
Fang Xiu gave it some thought.
'Pay a price for an answer? Isn't that what we needed? If the pen was really so magical, I can use it to find out the truth about this world.'
"Director Wang, do you mean to use the Pen Spirit to find out where Nightmare really is?"
"Yes," Wang Dehai nodded. "But the more important the question, the higher the price the Pen Spirit will ask. The price is random. Sometimes it might be a finger, sometimes your eyes, maybe your heart, or even your head."
Hearing this, everyone fell silent.
Losing a finger might be acceptable, but losing a heart or a head meant death.
Most psychics weren't the selfless type. They wouldn't want to sacrifice themselves to ask a question for others. So, everyone was silent, not wanting to speak. They thought that out of so many people present, someone would eventually step up.
Then, a guy suggested, "This is easy. Just get a death row prisoner to ask, how about that?"
Wang Dehai shook his head. "Only a psychic can use the Pen Spirit."
Silence fell again. The psychics present were quiet, avoiding eye contact.
Yang Ming, looking at the silent crowd and cursed, "Look at you cowards. I knew none of you would do it."
Being a third-tier psychic and the captain, no one dared to talk back to him, even those who usually had a quick temper kept quiet, fearing he would challenge them to ask.
Yang Ming picked up the pen and was about to ask.
Wang Dehai looked worried, saying, "Yang Ming, you—"
But Yang Ming laughed, cutting him off, "Director Wang, my ability is luck, remember? Maybe the price will just be my pubic hair."
Wang Dehai rolled his eyes, but he eventually nodded. He knew that Yang Ming was now the only one who might minimize the cost.
The other psychics obviously wouldn't be selfless to that extent.
They only hoped that Yang Ming’s luck would protect him. The Investigation Bureau couldn't afford to lose such a high-level fighter at this crucial time.
Just as Yang Ming was about to ask, Fang Xiu stood up, attracting everyone's attention.
"I'll do it."
The room fell silent. Shock, doubt, disbelief, curiosity—all these expressions appeared on people's faces.
Yang Ming, with a hint of surprise in his eyes, laughed loudly. "Fang Xiu, why? Trying to steal the spotlight? I can't let you have this chance."
Wang Dehai, even more worried, said, "Fang Xiu, let Yang Ming do it. His ability is luck, and this kid has many tricks up his sleeve. The Pen Spirit might not even be able to kill him."
Facing the discouragement from the others, Fang Xiu remained calm and said, "I'll be fine."
"Fang Xiu, now is not the time to show off. Yang Ming is the strongest and the luckiest. He is the best choice," Wang Dehai tried to persuade him.
But Fang Xiu remained stubborn. "I said, I'll be fine."
Wang Dehai paused, noticing Fang Xiu's calm expression. He guessed maybe Fang Xiu knew he would be safe, perhaps he had foreseen the future.
Thinking this, Wang Dehai said after a moment, "Yang Ming, let him do it."
Yang Ming, seemingly understanding his intention, nodded and gave the pen to Fang Xiu.
The others, unaware of Fang Xiu's reasons, had mixed feelings. Some respected him, some laughed at him, and some were confused.
They couldn't figure out why Fang Xiu, almost like a selfless saint, was so eager to face such danger.
But Fang Xiu had his reasons. He wanted to confirm his suspicion and use this chance, maybe even risking his life, to find answers to his deepest doubts.
He also silently thanked Nightmare. Without it, he might never have discovered this hidden treasure of the Investigation Bureau.