Mysterious Resurrection: Starting with Controlling Sadako

Chapter 363 Curse Released
As Huang Ziya spoke, her voice grew softer and softer, as if she was afraid of being overheard by Wang Liang upstairs. Zhang Lei and Wang Jiang also fell silent.

Zhang Lei coughed lightly, breaking the silence: "That's your business. Since you're not going, I'll go find Wang Liang. Goodbye."

"What do you want with him?" Huang Ziya asked suspiciously, her eyes looking strange.

"Uh, you're overthinking it." Zhang Lei turned and left.

Upon arriving on the seventh floor, Zhang Lei was about to knock on the door when it clicked open a crack on its own.

No one opened the door for him, which didn't surprise Zhang Lei, and he stepped inside.

"It seems you've already made up your mind."

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, Wang Liang turned his head and looked over.

Zhang Lei's stiff face tightened, and he nodded solemnly.

"I've made up my mind, Captain."

Wang Liang chuckled; Zhang Lei's form of address already revealed his answer.

He pointed to Zhang Lei's pants pocket.

Zhang Lei's expression shifted slightly as he felt something extra in his pocket. He reached in and took it out, only to find a photograph bearing Wang Liang's image.

"Keep this safe; it could save your life in a critical moment. Your vengeful spirit's recovery is progressing well. I won't remove the two ghosts that you ate from your body for now."

"Once things are settled in Dajing City, I'll take you directly to retrieve the second ghost that's suitable for you. The two ghosts you've already consumed will become excellent spiritual nourishment," Wang Liang said.

"Okay." Zhang Lei forced a stiff smile, finally feeling relieved.

"Go back now. Oh, and don't wander around today. Just stay in the hotel," Wang Liang instructed.

Zhang Lei asked nervously, "Is something going to happen?"

Wang Liang waved his hand: "Don't panic, it's nothing."

"I understand."

Zhang Lei didn't ask any more questions and left.

Wang Liang turned his gaze back to the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes seemingly piercing through countless barriers to see the people in a room of a certain building, a strange smile appearing on his face.

Inside the Ping An Building, in a windowless room, the light was dim.

Fang Shiming came here after leaving the meeting and sat on the only chair in the room, remaining motionless for a long time.

Fang Shiming didn't move until night fell in the city.

There were no lights in the room, so he lit a candle on the table.

The dim candlelight flickered, casting an inconspicuous shadow on Fang Shiming's face.

After lighting the candles, Fang Shiming took out a gold box from his clothes, made a slit with a knife, and opened the sealed box.

The room immediately became cold and damp, filled with a faint stench of decay, and strange, eerie sounds echoed throughout.

Even the candlelight on the table shook violently a few times, the flames dimmed, and the light became faint.

Fang Shiming looked down at the golden box, inside which were ghost scissors, in the style of the Republic of China era, their surface covered with something that was hard to tell whether it was rust or dirt, and their hands were wrapped in coils of sticky black hair.

"I really don't want to touch this thing, but I have no choice."

Fang Shiming frowned and carefully placed the box containing the ghost scissors aside.

He then took out two more photos from his pocket, one of Yang Jian and the other of Wang Liang.

These were all enlarged full-body photos taken secretly. The two people in the photos had no expression and looked indifferent. Most ghost tamers were like this, so Fang Shiming didn't pay any attention to them.

Since the decision has been made to take action against Wang Liang, Yang Jian should also be eliminated in one fell swoop to avoid future trouble. That Ghost Eye Yang Jian is no ordinary person either; even without his teacher, he is capable of independently solving A-level paranormal cases and cannot be underestimated.

Fang Shiming picked up a pen and wrote two words on Wang Liang's photo: Wang Liang. Yang Jian's photo was the same.

Real name, full-body photo—this is how to trigger the Ghost Scissors murder pattern.

"It's about time. I'll send you, teacher and student, on your way."

Fang Shiming's face was cold as he reached into the box and grabbed the ghost scissors.

In an instant, the surrounding chill intensified, and the only candle on the table was reduced to a tiny flame, yet strangely, it did not completely go out.

Tick-tock, tick-tock~
The sound of dripping water came from the corner of the room, and the stench in the air grew stronger.

In the dim light behind Fang Shiming, inexplicable black shadows gradually took shape, resembling the outlines of mutilated corpses, slowly approaching Fang Shiming's position.

Fang Shiming's gaze turned fierce as he swept it over the two photos. He held the Ghost Scissors in one hand and picked up the photo belonging to Yang Jian with the other.

'Wang Liang might not be able to be killed with a single snip of the scissors; the Ghost Scissors can't be used too many times in a row. Get rid of Yang Jian first!'

The scissors landed on the photo with Yang Jian's name on it, and the originally brightly colored photo immediately looked old, like an old funeral portrait.

Click.

The scissors cut along Yang Jian's neck in the photo, and a strange curse spread out along the connection.

On the city streets,
Yang Jian had just finished eating and was holding a bottle of soda in one hand and a satellite phone in the other, talking to Liu Xiaoyu.

As they chatted, Yang Jian's gaze swept across the faces of the people coming and going on the street, a habit he had developed for observing.

But suddenly, a terrifying gash appeared eerily on his neck.

Yang Jian's expression changed drastically. The soda in his hand was crushed, but even faster than the sprayed soda was the large amount of blood that gushed out from his neck.

The gash nearly tore his entire neck apart, and the gushing blood sprayed onto the faces of pedestrians walking towards him, leaving them stunned.

Yang Jian's head almost fell off his neck. Blood blocked his throat, making it impossible for him to speak. He staggered and fell to the ground, his satellite phone rolling to the side.

'Are you kidding me?! What kind of attack is this?!'

Yang Jian was filled with shock and anger. His skin cracked open, revealing several scarlet ghost eyes hidden beneath.

Swish.

A blood-red light bathed the entire street, which was gripped by panic. Pedestrians ran away in terror, trying to get away from the corpse on the ground whose head was almost severed, but they couldn't escape the street that was sealed off by the ghostly domain.

Yang Jian felt a wave of dizziness. Even though he was an anomaly who had caused the vengeful ghost to crash, his body was half-dead and he was only kept alive by the vengeful ghost.

But suddenly his head almost fell off, and he still couldn't hold on for long. How long could he maintain consciousness in this state? A dozen seconds? Or a few seconds?

Before he could think, the shadow beneath Yang Jian's body surged and covered his neck, attempting to reattach his head.

But before he could succeed, a new red line appeared on his forehead, circling horizontally around his head.

A strong sense of crisis made Yang Jian immediately abandon his attempt to retrieve the head. The shadowy figure changed position, causing a red, peeling wooden music box with mottled paint and a small one-inch photograph to roll out of his clothes.

puff.

His head was split in two by a bizarre attack.

But a clear and melodious ringtone rang in Yang Jian's mind a second earlier.

The curse of the music box's immortality has been unleashed.

(End of this chapter)