Resentful spirits were not uncommon.
Most of them were born from the same root—people who died with overwhelming hatred, unwilling to let go, their resentment lingering in places thick with yin energy. Mass graves, abandoned buildings, places stained with death… these were the easiest breeding grounds.
But Mary Shaw was different.
She wasn't just a victim of circumstance.
If anything, her existence proved that a person's nature could twist into something far worse than death itself. The fact that she had become a resentful spirit wasn't surprising.
What was surprising… was how fitting it felt.
Lucien didn't show her the slightest bit of courtesy.
Every sentence he spoke was sharp, deliberate, and merciless—each one striking directly at her core, leaving no room for pride or composure.
And just like that—
She snapped.
Whatever plan she originally had—ambush, manipulation, slow torment—was abandoned instantly. The pretense collapsed, replaced by raw, uncontrolled anger.
A clown puppet sitting on a rocking chair suddenly jerked upright.
The next second, it shot forward, flying straight at Lucien with unnatural speed.
He didn't dodge.
His body shifted forward instead, his fist driving out cleanly.
The puppet exploded mid-air.
Wood splintered. Cloth tore apart. Fragments scattered across the floor.
That kind of trick might have worked on someone unprepared—someone like Lisa.
Against Lucien?
It was nothing more than a joke.
Behind him, Jamie and the detective were still under the lingering effects of the spirit's influence. The overlapping cries, the distorted laughter—it wasn't just noise. It gnawed at the mind, disrupted focus, and eroded willpower.
There was a reason people used the phrase ghostly wails and wolf howls.
Even if they couldn't fully process what was happening, instinct still drove them to act.
The detective reacted first.
He raised his shotgun and fired.
The blast echoed through the room, shattering a glass cabinet and destroying one of the dolls inside. Whether by luck or instinct, the shot landed exactly where Mary Shaw had intended to shift next.
Her movement paused—just for a moment.
But that moment was enough.
The detective fired again. And again.
Too fast. Too uncontrolled.
Within seconds, the shotgun was empty.
Lucien stepped in without hesitation, grabbing the weapon from his hands in one smooth motion. At the same time, he pulled out spare shells and began reloading.
The movement was clean. Efficient.
Dual-load.
The entire process took less than four seconds.
Jamie stared in disbelief.
He didn't even see Lucien aim.
The gun came up—and fired.
Every single shot hit.
Perfectly.
Each bullet destroyed a doll at the exact moment Mary Shaw attempted to possess it, cutting off her control before it could fully take shape.
What should have been a terrifying supernatural encounter—
Was forcibly turned into a shooting range.
"I've had some professional training," Lucien said casually.
Jamie could only nod subconsciously, admiration rising despite the situation.
Of course he had.
At this point, it felt like nothing about him could surprise him anymore.
But Lucien himself wasn't satisfied.
Not at all.
His time studying cultivation techniques had been short. He had methods, understanding—but lacked real offensive techniques.
If he had a proper divine ability… something meant to kill spirits directly—
Would he even need to rely on firearms like this?
The thought lingered briefly.
Then—
The situation changed.
Mary Shaw had already realized something was wrong.
This wasn't like dealing with ordinary people.
This opponent—
Was dangerous.
If she continued like before, she would be destroyed.
So she changed tactics.
In an instant, every cabinet door in the room burst open.
Glass panels swung wide, and dozens of dolls surged forward all at once, rushing toward the three of them from every direction.
At the same time—
The world fell silent.
Not quieter.
Silent.
Absolute.
Lucien eyes narrowed slightly.
He recognized it immediately.
Her domain.
Within this space, any scream—no matter where it came from—would reveal the victim instantly. And when that happened, she would appear in an instant… and tear out their tongue.
"Whatever happens," Lucien said calmly, glancing back, "don't scream."
Then he kicked both Jamie and the detective backward, forcing distance between them and the center of the room.
Right on cue—
A voice emerged from the swarm of dolls.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Jamie… don't leave me… help me…"
Jamie froze.
It was Lisa's voice.
Exactly the same.
No difference at all.
His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He turned instinctively—
And the puppet was already in front of him.
Too close.
Too sudden.
Fear surged.
His mouth opened—
But the detective reacted faster this time, clamping a hand over his mouth.
It wasn't enough.
A thin, grotesque tongue shot out from the puppet's mouth, wrapping tightly around Jamie's neck and lifting him off the ground.
His body struggled violently, but the grip only tightened.
Air disappeared.
Around them, the dolls began to laugh.
Different voices.
Different tones.
All distorted.
All human.
Every single one belonged to someone Mary Shaw had killed.
Jamie's vision blurred as the lack of oxygen set in.
Then—
A sharp flash.
Glass.
Lucien had already moved.
The shard in his hand cut cleanly through the tongue, severing it in one precise motion.
Jamie dropped to the ground, gasping for air.
"Move," Lucien said.
Jamie didn't argue this time.
He turned and left, the detective following immediately.
—
Now—
Only Lucien remained.
Dozens of dolls surrounded him, floating, twitching, shifting unnaturally in the air.
Mary Shaw's voice echoed from all of them at once.
"So now it's just you… young exorcist."
There was mockery in her tone.
"And look at them running. Was it really worth it? Fighting me for people like that?"
A brief pause.
Then her voice softened, carrying a dangerous hint of temptation.
"Join me. I can give you something better… a body that will never decay."
Lucien let out a short laugh.
"You really are stupid," he said calmly. "Didn't you see? I was the one who told them to leave."
The words hit harder than any attack.
Mary Shaw's anger exploded instantly.
"I'LL TEAR YOU APART—!"
"Annoying."
The pressure surged.
A silent force crashed toward him, carrying with it the weight of her rage.
Lucien stood his ground.
His breathing slowed.
That familiar energy stirred within him.
The gun came up again.
Shots rang out in rapid succession.
Even in silence, the impact was undeniable.
One doll after another shattered.
Mary Shaw adapted again.
The remaining dolls began moving erratically—darting through blind spots, shifting unpredictably. Long tongues shot out from all directions, piercing through wood and tearing through empty space where Lucien had stood just moments before.
Fast.
Deadly.
But not enough.
Lucien moved through it all—dodging, shifting, countering with precise timing.
Within just a few breaths—
More than twenty dolls were destroyed.
Mary Shaw's anger turned unstable.
"YOU SHOULD BE DEAD—!"
She couldn't understand it.
Couldn't comprehend how he kept predicting her movements.
But the truth was simple.
Lucien could see through her.
Not directly—
But enough.
Mid-battle, something shifted.
Not outside.
Inside.
A series of prompts appeared in his mind.
[You used firearms. Shooting proficiency increased.]
[Multiple successful hits. Accuracy +3 | Reload speed +3]
[You resisted the wail of a resentful spirit. Stability improved.]
[Fist technique enhanced.]
[Qi control proficiency +1]
Then—
A deeper change.
A state he couldn't fully describe.
Everything aligned.
Clear.
Focused.
Complete.
[Huangting Scripture: 60%]
[New divine ability unlocked.]
[Wind Control]
Lucien stilled for a fraction of a second.
Then—
The air around him shifted.
Not naturally.
Not randomly.
It responded to him.
A faint current formed, subtle but real, circling his body.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Finally."
And this time—
The battle was about to turn.