Sweat poured down Han Yu's back as he internally cursed every decision he had ever made in life. His breathing was shallow, his knees weak, and if there were any spaghetti in his pockets, it would've already fallen out.
He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.
The ghostly man raised his hand.
Han Yu nearly passed out.
"PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! TAKE FAT KUI INSTEAD!"
Han Yu dared to peek through one eye.
And that was when the ghostly man finally spoke.
Han Yu let out a high-pitched squeak.
And fainted on the spot.
The ghost looked at Han Yu's collapsed form and let out a groan.
An unknown amount of time passed before Han Yu stirred.
He reached up and winced as his fingers brushed against a significant bump on his forehead.
"Did I fall asleep?" he mumbled, struggling to recall what had happened earlier.
It took him a while to gather his bearings, but something felt... off.
"Strange... I'm on the ground, and there are creepy noises all around me," Han Yu muttered. His drowsy brain took a moment before it reached an obviously incorrect conclusion.
"I guess I'm still dreaming."
He shivered as a cold wind blew past him.
"Hooooh~ This dream is so realistic. Why can't my money dreams be this real?" Han Yu whined. "The money always turns to mush when I touch it."
He sighed dramatically, then absently rubbed his aching forehead.
"Huh... wait..." He frowned. "Are you supposed to feel pain in a dream?"
"It stings." Han Yu winced, poking the bump again like an idiot.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears.
Han Yu squinted into the dim surroundings, barely making out a dark figure in the distance.
"Hang on... why is it so dark in my dream?" he wondered out loud.
"Come on, lights! Brain, do something!" He clapped his hands together, trying to summon brightness with sheer dumb determination.
But something else did.
He suddenly felt a gaze on him.
Two piercing eyes stared at him from the darkness, the moonlight reflecting off them like polished cold steel.
A strange, chilling sensation rushed through Han Yu's body, like a bucket of cold water had just been poured over his head.
Everything. Came. Rushing. Back.
It was like getting hit by a metaphorical truck.
His absolute lack of survival instincts.
Han Yu swallowed hard as he locked eyes with the terrifying specter in front of him.
'Is he going to kill me?' he wondered. 'Father... Mother... looks like I'll finally be seeing you today.'
Silently, he began composing his will in his head.
Then, the ghost took a step forward and—
Han Yu braced himself for pain.
Han Yu cautiously opened one eye and saw the ghost staring at him emotionlessly.
"...You can speak!?" he yelped.
The ghost gave him a very unimpressed look.
He stood there, dumbfounded, as the ghost walked over to a collapsed tree trunk and sat down like he was the world's most exhausted office worker.
Then, in one swift motion, the ghost pulled out an animal-hide pouch and brought it to his lips.
The seam of the pouch opened—
And a dark red fluid poured out.
A metallic scent spread through the air.
'He's drinking blood!? HE REALLY IS A GHOST!'
Han Yu's survival instincts—long dormant—finally kicked in.
And decided to sit this one out.
So instead of running, screaming, or doing anything remotely useful, Han Yu just... stood there. In complete silence. Watching the ghost down a fresh, bloody beverage like it was fine wine.
After the ghost had finished his mysterious drink, he closed his eyes, seemingly resting.
A few minutes passed.
Han Yu, being a genius, used this time to stare at the ghost's face. Then, his eyes drifted to the magnet lying beside the man.
'Wait a second... how did that get there? I remember taking it back earlier...'
As the gears in his brain finally started to turn, Han Yu realized something important.
He needed that magnet.
Han Yu took a deep breath.
"Can I... can I take it?" he asked in a voice so weak it might as well have belonged to a mosquito.
The ghost's eyes flickered open.
"...It's mine... I need it... we made a deal..." he mumbled, attempting to plead but failing miserably.
The ghost did not care.
Instead, he simply turned his gaze to the sky, watching the moon.
Han Yu followed his gaze and—
"I'M STILL IN THE FOREST AT THIS TIME!?" Han Yu screamed.
He immediately regretted it.
Because the ghost—who had been peacefully moon-gazing—frowned.
The single word carried absolute authority.
Han Yu's soul nearly left his body.
Like a scared kitten, he immediately shut his mouth and froze in place.
The ghost withdrew his gaze and returned to staring at the moon, his expression unreadable.
Han Yu, however, had been traumatized into enlightenment.
'Huh? Why do I feel bad for a ghost that might be trying to kill me?'
His brain desperately tried to reboot as he reassessed the situation.
With cautious curiosity, Han Yu studied the ghost properly for the first time.
The dim light made it difficult, but he could still make out the details.
The man's old, tattered robes were burned and torn, as if he had just walked out of a collapsing inferno.
His hands bore horrible burn scars, and his right foot—visible through his shredded pants—was swollen and bruised.
Clearly, this ghost was not having a great time.
But the most striking part?
The necklace around his neck.
A thin silver chain, holding a single lustrous pearl that glowed faintly under the moonlight.
And for once in his life, he shut his mouth.
Because in that moment—
The ghost didn't look terrifying.
He just looked... tired.
And somehow, that was scarier than anything else.