Chapter 111: Shadows of the Missing

Lord Ye Lin, don’t worry about it…

Walking behind Yenir, Wang Zheng offered a grim smile, signaling that Yenir shouldn’t take it to heart.

“He’s just like that… he didn’t mean to single you out.”

“The prototype dungeon stage isn’t too difficult. With your strength, if you run into trouble, just dash out and come back.”

It’s a bit of a headache.

At first, he only sought out Fang He; Yenir had been recommended by Chen Yong. That means Yenir’s share was partly taken from Fang He’s cut.

But he hadn’t expected Fang He to be so petty—so blunt from the start. A Second-Stage fighter daring to talk back to a Third-Stage? It only showed Fang He was more confident in handling such matters, convinced that Yenir had stolen his share.

Yenir looked at Wang Zheng, who seemed worried he might be offended, and smiled nonchalantly:

“It’s fine—I take your money and do as I please.”

“Risks are part of the game.”

“If he’s sure, then we follow his lead.”

Yenir was well aware that Wang Zheng had recruited him solely for his mid-level Third-Stage prowess—making him a magnet for ghostly attacks. Besides, his strong resistance to supernatural events might even come in handy.

To conquer the prototype dungeon, he didn’t mind the expense—after all, it helped build connections. However, Wang Zheng still pinned his hopes on Fang He.

That suited Yenir fine. Honestly, he didn’t care who ultimately handled this mission—being a mere bystander was best. When facing supernatural threats, his only guarantee was to survive.

Having wrapped up that detour, the group stepped directly into an old house resembling a rural courtyard.

The moment they stepped inside, a chill ran through them—a bone-deep cold that sent shivers down their spines.

“It’s freezing…”

“So many water stains…”

In the dim courtyard, water overflowed everywhere, and the pungent smell of aquatic weeds invaded their nostrils.

Six large jars were arranged like a grim altar in the courtyard.

At the center, an elderly woman with vacant eyes sat rigidly, her bare feet immersed in water.

If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she would have looked like a corpse dragged out of a coffin.

Noticing their arrival, she slowly raised her neck. Her cloudy eyes fixed on them as she croaked:

“Who… are you…?”

Her hoarse, feeble voice—choked as if with thick phlegm—echoed in the gloomy courtyard, reminiscent of a graveyard keeper from old ghost films.

Fang He, his eyes gleaming with self-assurance, forced a smile as he swiftly approached the old woman in just a few steps:

“Ma’am, we’re here to investigate some recent deaths.”

“Has something happened in your household?”

Crouching beside her, Fang He maintained his smile and waited patiently for her answer.

In the next moment, the old woman turned her head like a marionette, suddenly fixing her gaze on Fang He with an unnerving speed that defied nature.

Startled, the group nearly drew their weapons instinctively—unless they were all seasoned awakeners.

Beside the old woman, Fang He stiffened, as if something icy had latched onto him in their shared gaze.

He dared not move.

After a few seconds, her eyes softened a bit. Once again clouded, her hoarse voice spoke:

“My daughter… is missing…”

“Everyone says… she’s dead… I can no longer see her…”

Regaining her composure, Fang He quickly asked:

“Ma’am, how do you think your daughter died? Was it due to conflicts with the locals?”

“Was she forced into it?”

“If so, we’ll help you seek justice.”

As he spoke, Fang He patted the military insignia on his uniform, anxiety evident in his manner.

After a long silence, the old woman seemed not to understand, murmuring repeatedly:

“She’s dead… you must help me find her…”

“She’s dead… you must help me… find her…”

…

The group’s hearts sank as they listened to her broken, looping whispers—it was clear that no more answers were forthcoming, especially after witnessing her dreadful state.

At the same time, Fang He’s face darkened; he wasn’t gleaning any clues from her.

“Ma’am, what about your granddaughter?”

Taking a few steps closer, Yenir recalled the Middle-Aged Man’s earlier introduction and softly asked the old woman.

This time, the old woman seemed to break her repetition. She suddenly lifted her head and looked at Yenir, a withered smile briefly softening her creased face:

“My granddaughter…”

“She’s fetching water by the river… she’ll be back tonight…”

…….

Outside the courtyard, Fang He shook his head grimly, indicating he hadn’t received any system updates.

“My powers only yield information when near key figures. In the courtyard, I only got one clue.”

“The river is dangerous.”

The group pondered in silence while Chen Yong couldn’t help but ask:

‘That old woman… could she be a ghost? The way she was just now…’

Haunted by lingering fear, his thought echoed among them all.

However, Fang He merely shook his head:

“No, she isn’t a ghost. That old woman has been exposed to too many supernatural events and has started to change. But she isn’t fully there yet.”

Upon hearing this, Yenir furrowed his brow slightly:

“So the key figure must be the little girl? Are we to wait for her return? This old woman can barely provide answers—perhaps the girl knows more.”

“So, should we go look for her now?”

One of the awakeners in the group instinctively spoke up. All he wanted was to wrap up the mission quickly; staying here felt suffocating.

“No.”

Fang He immediately objected:

“The river is dangerous.”

“This clue indicates that something lurks by the river. Look at those who keep fetching water—they seem almost controlled.”

“There’s a survival rule in supernatural incidents: avoid the sites of ghostly deaths at all costs!”

“Unless you’re desperate for clues at the last minute, don’t even glance there!”

“All the information we have points to one thing: the dead woman was definitely drowned!”

“Let’s wait—until the little girl returns tonight!”

Seeing Fang He’s seriousness, no one dared to argue.

Standing apart from the group, Yenir gazed thoughtfully at the dilapidated courtyard not far off.

Drowning, no body, a mother, a daughter, fetching water…

Based on the clues at hand, he could quickly piece together a rough narrative.

In the settlement, women—either accused of theft or defamed—ended up taking their own lives in the river out of bitter resentment.

For some mysterious reason, it turned into a supernatural incident.

And the old woman’s repeated plea to ‘find her’ made it clear that no body had ever been recovered. So…

Could the continual drawing of water from the river be a ghostly force trying to pull someone out?

When the ‘body’—or rather, the corpse-laden water—reaches its limit, will it fully transform into a supernatural dungeon?

It seems that resolving this prototype dungeon…

might not be that hard.

……..

By the slowly flowing river, a weak, emaciated figure crouched by the bank, continuously rubbing something in his hands.

Under the pitch-black sky, a dark, spherical object lay beside him.

“Snap—snap”

On the churning river, the reflection revealed the vengeful face of a girl.

There she was, scissors in hand, relentlessly snipping at a strip of flesh.

……