Movie variety show soul travels between two worlds to become a rich man

Chapter 757 The Price of a Divine Artifact: Abyssal Gaze

Long after Gao Dongxu's figure disappeared outside the photo studio, Xu Jizhu remained slumped on the cold floor.

He looked as if his soul had been ripped out, his whole being exuding a sense of utter devastation and ruin.

The pain came in waves, not just physical, but more so a tearing sensation from the depths of the soul.

He lost his camera, which was not only his means of making a living, but also the fragile link between him and the underworld.

Without it, he would face endless punishment and curses from the underworld. Xu Jizhu struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. In the dim light, the shadows of the display cases were stretched long, like peeping ghosts.

He gave a bitter smile, the curve of his lips filled with self-mockery and despair. He took a deep breath and limped towards the bedroom.

Only when he returned to his bedroom could he find a moment of safety. The room was filled with all sorts of statues of gods and exorcism tools—from the Three Pure Ones of China and Buddha statues to Western crosses, holy water, and even some totems and talismans from ancient tribes.

These objects together formed a fragile barrier, capable of temporarily blocking the invasion of evil spirits. However, the ghostly energy had now seeped into his very bones, and all he could do was tough it out.

He stumbled and shoved open the bedroom door, the heavy wooden door creaking ominously. He practically stumbled into the room, his body crashing heavily onto the bed, making the mattress groan.

The moment he fell, his eyes widened suddenly, his pupils contracted sharply, as if he had seen something extremely terrifying.

However, all he could see was the dim, flickering light from the ceiling. A violent tremor, like an electric shock, instantly coursed through his body, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

At the same time, countless wisps of black energy emerged from the cracks in the floor and from the shadowy corners, like living venomous snakes, winding and coiling, vying to burrow into his body.

"Ugh..." A suppressed groan escaped from deep in his throat. His fingers gripped the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His gaze darted laboriously to the bedside table, where a bottle of painkillers sat—a staple he always kept on hand for times like these. With all his might, he reached out, his trembling fingers slowly approaching the small white bottle.

Just as his fingertips touched the cold plastic bottle, an even more intense pain swept over him like a tsunami.

His arm suddenly went limp, falling to his side with a dull thud as it hit the floor. His consciousness, like a kite with a broken string, drifted rapidly away, finally plunging into boundless darkness.

. . . . . .

The following morning, sunlight barely pierced through the thin mist over Seoul, casting its glow on the somewhat worn streets. Han Chun carefully held onto the stair railing, inching her way down the stairs one step at a time. Her ankle, sprained, throbbed with pain with every step. She gritted her teeth, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

When she finally stepped onto the street, she subconsciously looked up. Although there weren't many people on the street, there were not only living figures, but also many more translucent, elusive human figures—the ghosts of her old neighbors that she had only recently been able to see.

At first, she found it very interesting when she could see these ghosts, but now she doesn't want to see them at all.

Han Chun's heart clenched suddenly, and he quickly remembered Gao Dongxu's instructions—"Don't make eye contact with them, and don't attract their attention."

She hurriedly looked down, staring at her toes, her heart pounding in her chest. Leaning against the cold wall, she limped towards the Night Limit Photo Studio.

Her ability to see ghosts stemmed from that eerie camera. The day it shone on her, her world was completely changed. Now, she only wants to find Xu Jizhu; he must have a way to solve this problem. He absolutely must have a way.

Finally arriving at the photo studio, Han Chun reached out and pushed open the door, the bell on the door making a clear but hollow tinkling sound.

"Is anyone here?" Her voice sounded particularly faint in the empty photo studio.

No one responded. The photo studio was eerily quiet; even the two ghostly receptionists, Agent Gao and Bai Nanjiu, who usually floated behind the counter, were nowhere to be seen. An inexplicable sense of oppression hung in the air, as if time itself had frozen.

Han Chun frowned, her unease growing. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to head towards the bedroom area at the back. "President Xu? President Xu Jizhu? Are you there?" she called out as she carefully made her way through the display area showcasing old cameras.

When she reached the bedroom door, she found it ajar. She blinked her bright, yet worried eyes, curiously peering inside. A ring of white salt was scattered around the doorway, and yellow talismans were pasted on the doorframe. Through the crack, she could see various statues of deities and strange exorcism tools arranged throughout the room. "President Xu?" she called softly again, peeking into the room.

The next moment, her breathing stopped abruptly, and her eyes widened in shock. Xu Jizhu lay motionless on the bed, one arm hanging limply to the floor, his face ashen, like a corpse. Han Chun instinctively covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.

After a brief moment of shock, she quickly recovered and hurriedly limped into the room, squatting down beside the bed. Her fingers trembled as she reached under Xu Jizhu's nose, feeling a faint, almost imperceptible breath.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, frantically pulling her phone from her pocket and dialing emergency numbers with trembling fingers. "Hello? This is Night Limit Photo Studio. Someone has fainted, their breathing is very weak... The address is..." Her voice was shrill with panic, but her gaze never left Xu Jizhu's lifeless face.

. . .

Meanwhile, the scene was quite different in the presidential suite of the Shilla Hotel.

Sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the entire living room with brightness and warmth. White Rose, who had never slept as soundly as she had the night before, wore a white bathrobe, while Annie wore comfortable champagne-colored silk pajamas. Their beautiful faces glowed with a rosy hue, and their bright, curious eyes gazed at the antique camera in the center of the living room.

"So, taking a picture with it really can open your yin-yang eyes and let you see...those things?" White Rose asked, both frightened and curious.

The gazes of the three women, A Ning, Ru Xin, and Ru Qing, simultaneously turned to the dining area. Gao Dongxu was sitting at a luxurious long dining table, heartily enjoying the various exquisite breakfast dishes laid out before him.

Hearing the question, he looked up, a playful smile on his lips: "Yes, that's its most basic function. However—" He put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, "its most powerful, and most terrifying, ability is to bring the dead back to life."

The women held their breath, their eyes flashing with complex emotions.

“However,” Gao Dongxu’s tone turned serious, “the price is extremely high. Almost none of the direct descendants of someone who uses this ability will live past thirty-five. Unless—”

He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces. "Unless they keep taking pictures of the dead with this camera, fulfilling the deceased's obsessions, and helping their souls find peace, thus accumulating good karma to ward off the curses and entanglements of evil spirits brought by the camera, there is no other way."

In fact, after grabbing the camera and returning to the hotel last night, Gao Dongxu immediately asked A Ning to protect him. He then used his own spiritual energy to activate the camera, successfully triggering the "Dream Tracing" ability and witnessing the origin of this magical artifact.

It all began over a century ago when an ancestor of Xu Jizhu, desperate to save his dying son, spared no effort. He learned from an ancient secret text that a camera with the power to bring the dead to life existed in the underworld. This ancestor was no ordinary man; he actually managed to infiltrate the underworld and steal the camera, using it to revive his son who had stopped breathing.

However, the price of defying fate is enormous. From then on, those who use cameras to bring the dead back to life will be cursed with short lifespans, and their descendants will be destined to die at the age of thirty-five in every generation.

As a form of balancing act, they must run a photography studio for generations, catering specifically to ghost customers, helping the dead find peace in the underworld, and accumulating good karma to slightly offset the curse.

As long as Gao Dongxu doesn't use that miraculous resurrection function, he doesn't need to worry about the camera's curse.

He would never allow his descendants to suffer such a terrible fate in order to save someone's life.

Besides bringing the dead back to life and seeing ghosts, the camera has another feature that he is very satisfied with—it can select two ghosts as "guardian ghosts" to help the business owner receive ghost customers.

The two ghosts that Gao Dongxu had previously eliminated, though not very powerful, possessed abilities granted by the camera—possession, becoming physical, and the ability to touch physical entities—that were already incredibly powerful for ordinary ghosts. This was almost a kind of unconventional "deification."

Upon hearing that the price of bringing the dead back to life was so enormous, the women all showed obvious disappointment. Such an ability, seemingly powerful, was in reality a useless skill with a heavy price to pay.

To trade the lifespan of one's own descendants for the resurrection of another—what extreme emotions would it take to make such a choice? They looked at each other, unable to imagine.

Bai Qiangwei gently stroked the camera's cool metal casing, as if she could sense the ancient and dangerous power it contained. Silence fell over the living room, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery as Gao Dongxu continued eating.

Seeing the women's reactions, Gao Dongxu's lips curled into a meaningful smile. He knew better than anyone that the secrets hidden behind this divine artifact were far more than what they had seen.

I wonder if taking this camera out of South Korea and back to China will attract some kind of underworld messenger?
(End of this chapter)