Global Ghost Stories: I'm Investigating Ghosts in My Nightmare!

Chapter 15 Substitute Death Spell
After recounting the century-old grievances of the entire village, Bai Yu's body could no longer support him, and he collapsed to the ground. The wine cup, neither gold nor jade, slipped from his weak hand with a crisp "clang," turning into a wisp of smoke and vanishing without a trace the moment it hit the ground.

Without the slightest hesitation, An Mu rushed forward, his tall figure like a solid bulwark, standing between Bai Yu and the silent, drooping corpse of the groom. His eyes, sharp as knives, swept quickly across Bai Yu's pale face and the bloodstains at the corner of his mouth. While keeping a watchful eye on any possible movement at the head table, he asked in a deep voice, "How is the situation? Has his spirit been corrupted?"

Mo Fei's reaction was almost simultaneous with An Mu's. His burly frame erupted with an astonishing aura in an instant, like an enraged lion. Instead of charging towards Bai Yu, he took a step back, firmly protecting Bai Yu and Lan Ce behind him. His hands gripped the handle of his battle axe tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, the bulging muscles on his arms straining his combat uniform to the point of tearing it apart. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the hundreds of paper figures of guests in the courtyard, as if the slightest movement from them would instantly transform him into a destructive whirlwind, tearing everything here to shreds. At this moment, he was no longer the reckless brute, but an insurmountable shield forged from anger and loyalty.

Lan Ce immediately crouched down beside Bai Yu. He didn't try to help her up, knowing that any unnecessary physical contact could worsen her mental state. Instead, he quickly activated the vital signs monitoring mode on his wrist device, and a pale blue beam swept across Bai Yu's body.

“Captain, his vital signs are extremely erratic. His heart rate and blood pressure have spiked and then plummeted. His brainwave activity frequency exceeds the safety threshold by 300%... His mental pollution index is off the charts!” Lan Ce spoke rapidly, but his voice maintained the calmness characteristic of an analyst. “However... his mental core shows no signs of collapse and is spontaneously resisting. He is not in immediate danger, but he needs absolute quiet to recover.”

Upon hearing the words "no danger to life," An Mu and Mo Fei both breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief.

"I...I'm fine..." Bai Yu's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded. He raised his head, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and gasped for breath. Each breath seemed to tear at his already battered soul. Although the vast and desperate torrent of memories had receded, the piercing chill and venomous curses contained within it still raged like countless invisible ice needles in every corner of his mental world.

He raised his eyes, which were somewhat unfocused due to the intense pain, and looked at the groom's corpse, which had returned to a "sleeping" position. He then glanced at the huge portrait of the bride, covered with a red veil, hanging high in the main hall of the ancestral hall, and with all his might, he revealed more of the bloody past, word by word.

"Plague... sacrifice... a girl named... Awan... she was used as a sacrifice and married off to the so-called 'mountain god'..."

"The groom... his name is Lin Sheng... he didn't get to see his bride... so, with his life and his deepest resentment... he cursed the entire village... he wanted all the villagers who witnessed this tragedy and cheered for it... to stay forever... with him, waiting for this... wedding that will never end..."

The few fragmented sentences contained a wealth of information that sent chills down the spines of the three people present. A tragedy spanning a century, interwoven with love, betrayal, death, and revenge, slowly unfolded before them like a blood-soaked scroll.

An Mu's brows furrowed tightly. As the commander, he instantly extracted the most crucial intelligence core from this tragic story.

"In other words, the root of this strange rule is the resentment of the groom, Lin Sheng. He is both the initiator of the curse and one of the core elements of this distorted space." An Mu's voice was deep and powerful, quickly setting the tone for the analysis of the chaotic situation. "But there are a few key points we must figure out."

He held up his fingers and began to analyze meticulously: "First, the bride, Awan. She was sacrificed to the 'Mountain God,' so where is she now? Has she completely perished, or does she exist in another form? And what is her relationship with the figure with the red veil at the main banquet?"

“Second, the ‘Mountain God’.” Anmu’s gaze deepened. “The plague arose because of it, and was quelled by the sacrifice. It is clearly real, and powerful enough to influence the fate of a village. What role does it play in this vengeful wedding? Is it a bystander, or… the real mastermind?”

“Third, those villagers, and the ‘elders’ who forced Lin Sheng to give up his lover.” An Mu’s tone carried a chilling murderous intent. “They are the instigators of this tragedy, and also the main targets of the curse. Are they now these paper figures in the courtyard? Or are these paper figures merely projections of their own resentment?”

Anmu's questions were like a sharp scalpel, precisely dissecting the core contradiction of this strange tale.

Lan Ce, who was standing to the side, had already activated his personal recorder, recording Bai Yu's words and An Mu's analysis. He adjusted his glasses and added, "Captain, based on the analysis of the hybrid model of 'collective consciousness nightmare' and 'earthbound curse' in the database, I agree with your judgment. Moreover, I have a few additional questions."

"explain."

"First, the source of the plague is questionable. Although the villagers blame the mountain god, this is likely just ignorant superstition. An entity capable of causing such a large-scale plague must have an energy level far exceeding that of an ordinary earthbound spirit. We must consider whether it is a higher-level nightmare, or even... a projection of the primordial concept nightmare." Lan Ce's analysis was always based on the worst-case scenario. "Second, the curse of the groom, Lin Sheng. Although his resentment is powerful, it would be almost impossible for him to construct such a stable and complex rule space on his own. I suspect that his curse may have reached some kind of 'contract' with the so-called 'mountain god,' or rather, his resentment was used by the 'mountain god' to become the 'battery' that maintains the operation of this space."

Lan Ce's deduction sent a chill down the spines of Mo Fei and An Mu present. If this were true, they would be facing not only a resentful, lovelorn ghost, but also an even more terrifying being lurking behind the scenes, manipulating people's hearts.

“We can’t just sit here and wait to die.” An Mu made a quick decision. “Now that we’ve ‘taken our seats’ and temporarily gained the status of ‘guests,’ this is our only chance to act. We must find more clues before the next round of the ‘ritual’ begins, preferably a breakthrough to break this cursed cycle.”

He surveyed the perilous courtyard and quickly issued orders: "We'll split into groups. Lan Ce, come with me. We're going to the main hall; that's where the clues directly related to the core of the curse are most likely to be hidden. Bai Yu, you stay here and recover. Your mental strength is our last resort; we can't afford to use it again unless absolutely necessary."

Finally, his gaze fell on Mo Fei, his expression heavy and complex.

"Mo Fei".

"Here!" Mo Fei immediately straightened his back. He had forcibly suppressed his anger and grief, replacing them with a soldier's resoluteness.

“Your mission is the most dangerous, and it will be the greatest test of your will.” An Mu looked at him and said, word by word, “Go and check those ‘guests,’ especially… our people. I need you to confirm whether they can still be ‘awakened,’ or whether they have left behind anything that doesn’t belong to this space. Remember, you’re going to gather intelligence, not to seek revenge. Can you do it?”

Mo Fei took a deep breath, the stench of decay and blood making his lungs ache. He glanced at Bai Yu, whose face was deathly pale in the corner, then at An Mu and Lan Ce, who were fully prepared to leave, and finally, his gaze fell on the table not far away where investigator Xiao Zhao was sitting.

"I guarantee to complete the mission." He squeezed out these words through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse but firm.

This time, his eyes held not only anger, but also a heavy sense of responsibility. He knew this was not the time to act impulsively; part of the team's hope rested on his shoulders. He couldn't let Xiao Zhao die in vain, nor could he allow his surviving brothers to be put in danger because of his own impulsiveness.

An Mu nodded, said nothing more, but patted him heavily on the shoulder, and then led Lan Ce to turn and walk into the deeper darkness of the main hall of the ancestral temple.

In the courtyard, only Bai Yu, who was meditating in place, and Mo Fei, who was walking alone towards the sea of ​​paper figures, remained.

Mo Fei's every step was unusually heavy. He forced himself not to look at the eerie smiles on the faces of the paper figures on either side, nor to think about the "dishes" made of scraps of meat and bones on the table. His goal was clear—the seventh table in the third row where Xiao Zhao was.

The closer he got, the fainter the familiar scent of his companions became, replaced by a cold, strange odor mixed with paper and decaying corpses. When he finally stood before the table, his heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain making it hard to breathe.

Xiao Zhao was "sitting" in front of him.

His face, which once always carried a hint of shyness and vitality, was now covered with a thick layer of white powder, like lime, and two unnatural blushes on his cheeks resembled two clumps of congealed blood. The corners of his mouth were pulled upwards by an external force, fixed into a stiff smile. His eyes were empty, staring straight ahead, as if his soul had long been ripped out, leaving only a shell filled with rules, a body named "Zhao Wenjie."

Mo Fei's eyes instantly reddened. He clenched his teeth tightly to keep himself from making a sound. He remembered An Mu's orders; he was there to gather intelligence.

He forced himself to look away and focus on the table. In front of Xiao Zhao was a bowl of "rice" made up of countless tiny teeth. Mo Fei's gaze swept over it, and his stomach churned again. But he suddenly noticed that among those stark white teeth, there seemed to be a strange luster.

He held his breath, slowly reached out, and carefully pinched the foreign object out of the bowl of "tooth rice" with two fingers.

It was a tooth, but it wasn't human. It had a dull gold color, and its surface was covered with fine, scale-like patterns. The root of the tooth was unusually sharp, more like the fangs of some kind of wild beast.

"A beast's tooth?" A hint of doubt flashed through Mo Fei's mind. This thing seemed out of place with this human-centered curse. He immediately realized that this might be an important clue and quickly put it into an evidence bag.

His gaze returned to Xiao Zhao. He needed to examine this body shrouded in paper and rules. This was nothing short of torture for him.

He took a deep breath and, speaking in a low voice only he could hear, addressed the lifeless body: "Little Zhao, I'm here to take you home. Just bear with it a little longer, wait for me... wait for me to find the murderer and make him pay for his crimes in blood."

After saying that, he stretched out his hand, which was trembling slightly with anger, and gently touched Xiao Zhao's cold "arm" made of paper pulp and bamboo strips.

The touch was hard and cold, like touching an ancient artifact that had been stored away for centuries. He traced the fabric up Xiao Zhao's arm, examining his entire body. He dared not be careless in the slightest, for he did not know if any unnecessary movement might trigger a new rule of death.

When his hand touched Xiao Zhao's left hand, which was fixed in a fist position, his movement suddenly stopped.

He sensed that inside that paper-thin fist was a hard, angular object.

Mo Fei's heart pounded. He knew this was very likely the clue Xiao Zhao had desperately left behind in his last moments before being assimilated!
He has to get it out!

He looked around; the paper guests remained eerily still. Carefully, he used his fingernails to slowly pry open Xiao Zhao's paper fist, which was bound tightly together with glue and resentment. The process was slow and agonizing; each second felt like an eternity.

Finally, a small tear appeared in the cardboard. Mo Fei immediately leaned closer and saw that, wrapped in the cardboard, Xiao Zhao's already bluish-purple and stiff fingers were tightly gripping a small wooden plaque, about a quarter the size of his palm. The plaque was entirely black, of unknown material, and tightly bound with red silk thread. Through the gaps in the thread, one could vaguely see some twisted symbols carved with a sharp tool—neither writing nor drawing—exuding an ancient and eerie aura.

A surge of joy welled up in Mo Fei's heart. He knew he had found it! This was the breakthrough!

He dared not delay, and with lightning speed pried the talisman from his stiff fingers, gripping it tightly in his palm. The talisman was icy cold to the touch, as if he were holding a piece of ancient ice, and a chilling aura seeped straight into his bones.

The moment he received the talisman, a sudden change occurred!
Sitting opposite him, Xiao Zhao's paper-thin body suddenly began to tremble violently without warning. The stiff smile on his face began to twist and melt, like a wax figure being roasted, and black, ink-like viscous liquid flowed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

"Not good!" Mo Fei thought to himself and immediately withdrew.

With a soft "pop," Xiao Zhao's entire paper doll head burst open like a balloon blown to its limit! Countless paper scraps burning with eerie green flames, mixed with black slime, flew in all directions.

This sudden turn of events was like a bomb dropped onto a calm lake. At that moment, all the paper figures of the guests in the courtyard turned their heads, adorned with eerie smiles, towards Mo Fei!

Meanwhile, in the main hall of the ancestral hall.

Anmu and Lance had already reached the front of the main table. Lance was holding a miniature environmental detector, carefully scanning the huge portrait of the bride.

"Captain, we've made a discovery." Lan Ce's voice was extremely low. "The pigment composition of this painting is extremely complex. In addition to regular mineral pigments, I also detected high concentrations of human hemoglobin and various trace biological tissues. This painting... was painted with pigments mixed with human blood and bits of flesh."

An Mu's eyes narrowed. Using flesh and blood to create art—the evil of this nightmare exceeded their imagination.

“Also,” Lan Ce pointed to a constantly flashing red dot on the detector screen, “behind the portrait, where the red veil is, there is an unusually strong energy source. The energy fluctuation pattern… is very peculiar, containing both the resentment of a nightmare and a stable structure similar to a ‘seal.’ But my detection signal is blocked by a stronger field of rules, making in-depth analysis impossible. It’s like… someone is deliberately preventing us from seeing what’s inside.”

An Mu's gaze fell on the portrait. The bride, whose face was obscured by a red veil, seemed to be silently watching them from behind the blood-red canvas.

He didn't touch the painting; his intuition told him it was one of the core taboos of this space, and touching it rashly would have unimaginable consequences. He then turned his attention to the groom's corpse.

He walked around to the side of the corpse and examined it carefully. The groom, Lin Sheng, was remarkably well-preserved; apart from being lifeless, he was almost indistinguishable from a living person. But An Mu noticed something incongruous at the hem of his magnificent black suit. There was a patch of fabric there, its color darker than the surrounding fabric, as if it had been soaked through by some liquid.

Anmu carefully put on tactical gloves and lifted the hem of his dress uniform. He saw a dried, dark brown stain on the lining of the uniform. On that stain, several words appeared to have been hastily scribbled with some sharp object.

Anmu immediately instructed Lance to use a multispectral scanner for image enhancement. Soon, several distorted, blood-red characters filled with endless pain and regret appeared on the screen.

She is not Awan.

Beware of the mountain god!

"...Run!"

The writing abruptly ends here, as if the writer was forcibly interrupted by some force at the last moment.

"She's not Awan?" An Mu stared at those words, his mind racing. If the bride in the painting and at the main table wasn't the sacrificed Awan, then who was she? The mountain god? Or... another sacrificed victim?

"Beware the mountain god, run!" This was clearly the last warning left by the groom, Lin Sheng, for his descendants! His curse might not have been his original intention, but rather it was used and distorted by that "mountain god"!
Just as An Mu was about to have Lan Ce record this crucial information, the sound of Mo Fei's paper doll's head exploding suddenly came from outside the courtyard, followed by the suffocating pressure of hundreds of cold gazes converging upon him!
"Something's happened!" An Mu and Lan Ce exchanged a glance and immediately turned and rushed into the courtyard.

When they rushed out of the main hall, they saw Mo Fei being "stared at" by hundreds of paper figures of guests. Although the paper figures didn't move, their eerie smiles seemed to come alive, filled with undisguised malice and hunger. The air in the entire courtyard seemed to freeze; an invisible, immense pressure, like the pressure of deep-sea water, pressed in from all directions, aimed directly at Mo Fei, who had broken the "rules."

"Damn it, some kind of punishment mechanism has been triggered!" Lan Ce immediately realized.

Without the slightest hesitation, An Mu immediately commanded via the mental link: "Mo Fei, throw what you're holding over here! Quickly!"

Mo Fei was under immense pressure at this moment, feeling as if his spirit was being torn apart by those gazes. Upon hearing An Mu's order, he did not hesitate and threw the cold wooden talisman he was clutching tightly in his hand toward An Mu with all his might.

An Mu caught the talisman steadily. The instant the talisman left his hand, the pressure on Mo Fei suddenly eased. The gazes of the paper-figure guests also shifted from him to An Mu, who held the talisman!

"So that's it! Their target of hatred is the holder of this talisman!" An Mu instantly understood.

He looked at the ominous talisman in his hand, then at the restless paper figures in the courtyard, his mind racing.

"Lan Ce, analyze this talisman!"

Lan Ce immediately pointed the detector at the talisman. "Extremely high energy response! The talisman is made of 'ebony,' also known as dark ebony, which inherently possesses the ability to gather yin energy. The red threads on it... are 'soul-locking threads' soaked in virgin blood! And those symbols... according to the highest-level comparison in the ancient text database, this... these are the runes of a 'substitute death curse'!"

"A substitution curse?!"

“Yes!” Lan Ce spoke at an astonishing speed, “An extremely vicious ancient magic! It binds the birth date and time of a living person to this talisman, and under certain rituals, the holder of the talisman can take the place of someone else to bear a fatal curse or disaster! Xiao Zhao… he wasn’t assimilated into a puppet, he was used as a ‘sacrifice’ from the very beginning! A ‘substitute’ used to take the place of someone else to bear the curse of this wedding!”

This startling conclusion sent a chill down everyone's spine.

"For whom to die?" An Mu immediately grasped the key question.

Just then, Bai Yu, who had been silently meditating, suddenly opened his eyes. His face was still pale, but his eyes had regained their clarity. He looked at the talisman in An Mu's hand, and then at the motionless figure of the bride covered with a red veil on the main table.

"Die in her place."

He pointed to the mysterious bride.

"The groom's curse is to keep all the villagers here forever, to share his pain of losing his lover. But this curse has a core: there must be a 'bride.' This 'bride' is the central anchor of the curse. But the real Awan has already been sacrificed to the mountain god and is not here. Therefore, the 'mountain god,' or rather the mastermind behind this village, needs to constantly search for a 'substitute' to play the role of the bride in order to maintain the stability of this cursed space."

"That girl in the wedding dress was the stand-in for the previous 'bride.' And our missing Class D investigator, Xiao Zhao, was a 'scapegoat' prepared for the next 'bride' to transfer the curse!"

All the clues were completely connected at this moment.

The groom's warning, the talisman for taking the place of the bride, and the fact that she wasn't Ah Wan's bride... the outline of the truth is now crystal clear.

“In other words,” An Mu’s eyes sharpened like an eagle’s, “we have two enemies. One is the groom, consumed by revenge and resentment, unknowingly being manipulated. The other is the one hiding behind the scenes, manipulating everything… the ‘Mountain God’!”

He glanced at the "substitute talisman" in his hand, which was already starting to get slightly warm, and then at the eerie portrait of the bride in the main hall of the ancestral hall. A bold and adventurous plan quickly took shape in his mind.

“Since they want this talisman so much…” Anmu said in a low voice, “then let’s send it where it belongs.”

His gaze swept across the deathly silent banquet, fixing firmly on the huge, blood-red portrait of the bride in the main hall of the ancestral temple.

(End of this chapter)