Chapter 45 News

This is it?

A ghost?

In the past, Bai Ming might have dismissed it as a prank or a case of extreme mental illness.

However, after reading [Supernatural Incidents Surge Within Six Months! The Terrifying Truth 99% of People Don't Know!], Bai Ming was no longer so naive.

Therefore, he had called the police.

This was only natural. What else were ordinary citizens supposed to do when encountering such things if not call the police?

After honestly reporting the situation, Bai Ming hung up the phone and walked toward Ding Zhijian's home.

Ding Zhijian was the police officer, a year younger than Bai Ming. He had secured a steady government-backed position right out of graduation, only to be driven to the brink of misery by all sorts of "model citizens."

Following an incident where Bai Ming had stepped forward to perform a righteous deed, Ding Zhijian became Bai Ming's follower, and the two exchanged contact information.

This was because Bai Ming could legally help him deal with troublesome "model citizens."

"I wonder how efficient the relevant authorities in East City are," Bai Ming thought to himself.

Yes, calling the police did not mean he would refrain from trying to solve the problem himself.

In this era of the impending Twilight Game, dangers existed not only within the instances, but the future reality might not be safe either.

Whenever possible, Bai Ming would maximize his own strength.

Currently, he was only 380 experience points away from reaching Level 5.

If he could manage to solve a real-world ghost, he might just level up.

In that case, there was no harm in giving it a try.

If the location turned out to be wrong, it didn't matter; weren't the authorities there to handle it?

And if the location was correct, all the better. Bai Ming had been thinking about joining the relevant authorities anyway to gain access to their training grounds. If he encountered them here, he could take the opportunity to observe the situation in East City.

If it seemed unsuitable, he could simply switch to another city.

***

Ding Zhijian owned a local property, though it was his parents' home located in an older residential complex, complete with a troupe of square-dancing middle-aged women.

Bai Ming had previously visited the area to deal with those noisy women, and having been invited inside by Ding Zhijian for hospitality, he remembered the way.

"Hello, Auntie. How is it that no one is dancing this early in the morning?"

The proprietress of the small shop gave him a look reserved for idiots, but seeing that Bai Ming was buying a bottle of cola, she replied, "It's July, and it's noon! It's scorching hot enough to bake you alive out there, who's going to dance?"

Bai Ming asked, "Is that so? I remember nobody was dancing early yesterday morning either, right?"

Hearing this, the woman remarked, "Well, that's because of what happened in the family of the lead dancer..."

In just a few words, the woman laid out the entire situation in the neighborhood.

For her, back before smartphones entered the modern era, running the shop meant passing the time by gossiping.

That hadn't changed.

In fact, with the advent of group chats, gossip spread faster, wider, and more absurdly than ever.

Bai Ming gathered the general picture: these square-dancing women had kept a much lower profile after being beaten up by Bai Ming a year ago.

Still, they continued to dance, just less of a nuisance to the residents.

However, three days ago, the square dance—which had gone on every single morning without fail—suddenly vanished.

Word had it that the lead dancer's family suffered a car accident, resulting in the deaths of both her son and her husband.

Consequently, she had lost all desire to organize anything.

Of course, she wasn't the only organizer, but strangely enough, misfortunes had struck the households of the other women as well.

Although there were no fatalities among them, various accidents had occurred, such as severe home renovation disasters, grandchildren failing in school, or adult children demanding divorces.

With one thing after another, everyone was deeply distressed.

As a result, some people whispered that these women were reaping what they sowed, asking who told them to constantly disturb the peace every day and even occupy the neighborhood basketball court.

Now justice had been served, and retribution had arrived.

Bai Ming certainly didn't believe in karma or retribution; instead, he saw a deeper issue here—the severe understaffing of the relevant authorities.

Given the massive population base, even a tiny statistical percentage meant no shortage of coincidences and bizarre occurrences.

Incidents like the troubles befalling these square-dancing women were genuinely difficult to definitively link to the supernatural.

Some everyday horrors far surpassed this, and yet they were entirely man-made.

Especially since, aside from fatalities requiring official intervention, ordinary bouts of bad luck didn't necessarily involve the authorities, leaving no connected clues to follow.

How many personnel did the relevant authorities actually have? Even with continuous expansions over the past two years, they simply couldn't manage every single thing.

Yet Bai Ming had confirmed one thing: this wasn't just ordinary bad luck affecting random square-dancing women; it specifically centered around the women in Ding Zhijian's residential block.

Should he really go?

What if the danger was overwhelming?

Should he wait for the personnel from the authorities to arrive?

What a joke!

Of course he was going.

The word "rules" was meant to deal with those who respected them.

Yet too many people in this world ignored the rules, and ghosts certainly didn't care about them either.

Otherwise, high-level instances wouldn't feature false rules and the breaking of them.

In this era of shifting winds and gathering clouds.

In an era when ghosts were still weak and ordinary people in reality still had a chance to resolve threats.

If one didn't press forward courageously, were they supposed to wait until a true cataclysm arrived, when ghosts became terrifyingly unkillable, before taking action?

Furthermore, only greater strength could guarantee future safety and freedom.

Not to mention—

Ding Zhijian was still his friend!

[Consumed 1 Free Attribute Point]

[Player Perception Attribute: 13 → 14]

***

Bai Ming arrived outside Ding Zhijian's fourth-floor apartment door.

Yet for some reason, upon stepping onto the fourth floor, the entire residential building plunged into an eerie silence.

Before setting foot on the fourth floor, even if no people were visible, one would normally hear the sounds of televisions, cooking, washing machines, barking dogs, playing children, and arguing couples.

Now, all of that was gone, stripped even of the cicada chirps common to summer nights.

Suddenly, Bai Ming caught a faint, ghostly trace of music.

He immediately activated his willpower, his perception reaching 18 points as he strained to listen closely.

At last, the sound grew clear.

It was square-dancing music.

The kind of upbeat, endlessly looping electronic tune.

However, the audio quality was abysmal, sounding as though it were being played from an old-fashioned tape recorder, laced with heavy static hiss.

And it was coming from inside Ding Zhijian's home.

Ding Zhijian, I hope you can hold on.

Bai Ming drew the [Long Baton Type I] and smashed it violently against the front door.

The moment the wooden panel shattered, a strange gust of wind mixed with cheap perfume and the scent of decay rushed outward.

Despite it being midday, the living room was pitch black as ink, save for a thin, eerie crimson light seeping from beneath the bedroom door crack.

By now, the square-dancing music was clearly audible, accompanied by the sound of rhythmic, uniform footsteps.

Bai Ming scanned his surroundings and slowly approached the bedroom, his 18-point perception screaming frantically with warnings of mortal danger.

Bang—!

The [Long Baton Type I] swung once more, heavily shattering the bedroom door.

The cramped bedroom was packed with people.

Ding Zhijian knelt beside the bed, clutching his head in his hands and trembling violently.

Surrounding him were three concentric circles of square-dancing women.

They wore matching magenta sportswear, their backs turned to the door, arms linked to form an airtight circle.

The outermost layer of women performed standard square-dance movements, their arms swaying rhythmically up and down.

The middle circle remained completely still.

And the innermost five figures leaned forward, facing directly toward Ding Zhijian.

Hearing the door open, the women showed no reaction at all.

However, the trembling Ding Zhijian slowly raised his head, a grotesque smile stretching across the corners of his mouth.

"Brother Bai, you're here. Come join the dance."