He hesitated before continuing, "About two decades ago, a ghost hotel opened in a nearby ghost zone. Sohow... one of the spirits wandered out and ended up here."
Lana listened quietly. "It didn’t cause trouble at first," he added. "It just... stayed."
Then his expression darkened. "But the tenants... they got curious. They played a spirit-calling ga."
Lana’s eyes narrowed slightly. ’A foolish mistake ...’
"That angered it," the man continued, his voice lowering. "It must have thought they were inviting other spirits into its territory. After that... everything went wrong."
His hands trembled faintly. "It started causing disturbances. And since then... no one dares to live here."
Lana nodded slowly before asking, "How old is the spirit?"
The man thought for a mont. "A decade ago, it was estimated to be around 175 years old... so now..." He swallowed. "At least 185."
Lana fell silent. ’A decade ...’
She glanced at him, her gaze sharp. ’This case has been sitting here for ten years... and no one took it?’
For the first ti, she was truly speechless.
It had reached the point where a ghost that had once been rely 175 years old had now grown into a full 185-year-old entity.
Lana exhaled softly, her expression calm and unwavering. She turned toward the owner standing beside her and said, "Stay outside. I’ll handle everything."
The man nodded quickly, almost eagerly, as if he had no intention of stepping even a foot inside that cursed place.
With that, Lana stepped forward. And entered the mansion.
The mont she crossed the threshold, a cold gust brushed past her. Then... Laughter. Children’s laughter. High-pitched. Distorted.
It rang through the corridors, overlapping in strange rhythms, as if coming from every direction at once. Lana didn’t even pause.
Her expression remained composed, almost indifferent, as if such sounds were nothing more than background noise.
anwhile, Mr. Crow fluttered lightly before settling onto her shoulder, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. From the mont they had arrived, he had been observing everything carefully, ensuring there were no unexpected variables.
After all, Lana had made it clear.
"Don’t intervene unless necessary... just watch."
Only after Mr. Crow confird that there were no irregularities beyond what they expected did she step inside.
As she walked deeper into the mansion, a strange sensation crept over her. ’Soone’s watching ...’
The feeling was unmistakable.
Then... she turned. And there he was. Standing right behind her. A man. Or rather...a ghost.
His entire body was charred black, as if burned alive. His skin looked cracked and brittle, like coal ready to crumble at the slightest touch.
He wore nothing, his form grotesque and distorted. His eyes were pitch black, hollow yet filled with sothing deeply unsettling.
And his lips...curved into a twisted, eerie smile.
Even his feet were scorched, leaving faint black marks on the floor as he stood there, tilting his head slowly to one side.
Lana blinked once. Then she tilted her head in the opposite direction, mirroring him.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "So... you’re the one haunting this place?"
The ghost froze for a mont, clearly taken aback by her nonchalance. Then, slowly...he nodded.
Lana’s smile widened slightly. "Good. That saves ti."
Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room, her steps steady and unhurried, as if she had no concern that the ghost might attack her at any mont.
She sat down casually on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, before looking back at him.
"Alright, let’s keep this simple," she said calmly. "I’m here for one reason... I want you out of this mansion."
The ghost stared at her silently.
"You have two options," she continued, her tone almost conversational. "One, we negotiate. You leave this place, go back to wherever ghosts usually reside, and live peacefully."
She paused. Then her eyes sharpened slightly. "Or two... I remove you myself."
The ghost’s expression shifted, his hollow gaze narrowing as if trying to understand whether she was serious or simply insane.
Lana let out a small laugh. "If you want to be completely honest ..."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping. "Then I want to say fuck off."
The atmosphere snapped.
The ghost’s expression twisted instantly, rage exploding across his face. The air grew colder and heavier, as if the entire mansion responded to his fury.
In the next second, he vanished. Completely. Lana didn’t move.
’He’s coming.’
Calmly, she brought her fingers together, index and middle extended, the others pressed inward.
With a swift motion, she traced a circle in the air. A faint glow appeared. Then...a protective barrier ford around her.
Just in ti. The ghost reappeared mid-attack, slamming directly into the barrier. A shriek tore through the air.
Sharp. Painful. Unlike before, this scream carried sothing different... agony.
The mont he made contact, his charred form began to sizzle, as if burning all over again. This wasn’t an ordinary barrier.
Lana had infused it with her own mystic energy, a technique she had learned from Shadowridge University. Any spirit that touched it would suffer direct damage, as if their very existence were being eroded.
The ghost recoiled, his body flickering violently. By the ti he steadied himself...he was weaker. Much weaker.
Lana smiled. The sa calm, almost playful smile.
"See?" she said lightly. "I gave you a chance. You’re the one who refused."
The ghost trembled, his form unstable. One after another... Figures began to appear. Children. More than twenty of them.
Their forms flickered in and out, their hollow eyes staring blankly, their presence filling the mansion with a suffocating pressure.
Lana narrowed her eyes slightly. ’ As I thought ...’
These were the spirits drawn in by the previous tenants when they had foolishly played that spirit-calling ga.
She let out a soft chuckle. "Impressive... they really went all out, didn’t they?"
More than twenty spirits. Each around ten years in strength. Combined... they were equivalent to a 200-year-old entity.
’If I had to handle this manually... it would be troubleso.’
But... Lana was prepared.
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