Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The sixth night.

The chaos began to spread to the Japanese Self-Defense Forces.

At 3 a.m., at a Ground Self-Defense Force base on the outskirts of Tokyo, a young soldier on guard duty suddenly became vacant, a strange smile appearing on his face. He raised his standard-issue rifle, aimed it at two comrades chatting not far away, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Bang! Bang!" Two gunshots shattered the tranquility of the garrison. The two comrades didn't even have time to react before they fell into pools of blood.

After shooting his comrade, the soldier didn't hesitate for a moment. He grabbed his gun and charged like a madman towards the base's ammunition depot, yelling, "Blow it up! Blow it all up!"

Fortunately, the guards at the ammunition depot reacted quickly, firing decisively just as he was about to reach the door, killing him on the spot and preventing a disaster that could have turned the entire base into ruins.

But this incident, like a bombshell, caused a huge uproar among the Self-Defense Forces' top brass. They were completely panicked. If even disciplined and rigorously trained Self-Defense Force members had exhibited such incomprehensible and insane behavior, what about ordinary citizens?

The Self-Defense Forces high command issued an emergency order placing all units on high alert. Soldiers are not allowed to patrol alone; they must work in groups of three, supervising each other. Any unusual situation must be reported immediately and enforcement measures taken.

However, less than two hours after the order was issued, another incident occurred at a Self-Defense Force base in Chiba Prefecture. A squad leader suddenly jolted awake in his sleep and smothered his vice-captain's face with a pillow. The vice-captain struggled for a few moments but quickly went still. The other soldiers were awakened and it took a great deal of effort to subdue the still-frenzied squad leader.

In the interrogation room, the squad leader's eyes were vacant, his face expressionless. No matter what he was asked, he only repeated one sentence: "He wanted to kill me, I had to kill him first. I had to kill him!"

But in fact, he and the vice-captain had always had a good relationship; they had even discussed where to go fishing this weekend before going to bed last night. Nobody wanted to kill him.

But at that moment, that's what he felt. An implanted, irresistible madness drove him to do all this.

The Seventh Night.

Tokyo has completely transformed into a crazy city.

Citizens dared not leave their homes; all shops were closed, and the streets were deserted, save for the occasional passing police and military vehicles, their lights streaking across the empty streets in a ghastly white light. An oppressive unease and fear permeated the air, as if an invisible, malicious hand were manipulating everyone's nerves, amplifying the violence and madness lurking deep within human nature.

The Metropolitan Police Department and the Self-Defense Forces jointly established a special command, headed by a cabinet minister, mobilizing all available resources to try to find the root cause of the chaos. However, faced with this unprecedented and widespread "spiritual pollution," they were helpless. Various speculations arose, ranging from new types of drugs to cult brainwashing, to some unknown infectious disease, and some even began to connect it to biological weapons from wartime. But all investigations pointed to a dead end; there was no evidence to explain anything.

At 11 p.m., He Damin stood before the floor-to-ceiling window on Victoria Peak and closed his eyes again. This was his seventh night of divided souls. His face was ashen, even his lips had lost their color, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead like beads from a broken string. But his eyes were unusually bright, filled with a hint of fanaticism and anticipation.

The last wisp of its soul, like a ghost in the night, crossed the ocean and silently descended upon Tokyo. This time, it possessed a member of the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force who was patrolling outside a US military base.

The team member, who had been cautiously observing the activity within the base, suddenly had a blank look in his eyes, and a strange smile crept onto his lips. He slowly lowered his rifle, took a grenades from his waist, pulled the safety, paused for a second, then whirled around and threw them with all his might toward the brightly lit gate of the US military base.

"boom!"

A deafening explosion rang out in the silent night, and a massive burst of flame shot into the sky, illuminating half of the night. The alarms at the US military base blared mournfully.

Before the smoke from the explosion had even cleared, the self-defense member had already picked up his rifle again and started firing wildly at the American soldiers who rushed out to check the situation.

"Da da da... da da da..."

The American soldiers were caught off guard, and several were shot and fell to the ground on the spot. The American troops inside the base reacted quickly, and various light and heavy weapons began to return fire. The possessed self-defense member was quickly riddled with bullets and lay in a pool of blood, but the eerie smile on his face remained.

But the ordeal didn't end there. More Self-Defense Force members who heard the explosions and gunfire were dispatched as reinforcements. When they arrived at the scene, they found their comrades lying in pools of blood, and American soldiers pointing their guns at them.

"They killed our people!" someone shouted, their voice filled with anger and grief.

Instantly, the eyes of all the self-defense members turned red. Under the influence of that invisible malice, the anger and hostility in their hearts were amplified infinitely.

"Avenge our comrades!"

"Kill them!"

Gunfire erupted again. This time, it wasn't gangsters fighting American troops, but rather the Japanese Self-Defense Forces and U.S. forces stationed in Japan exchanging fire on Tokyo soil.

Bullets whistled through the air, tracer rounds tracing deadly paths. Soldiers on both sides fell one after another. In the chaos, no one could hear the order from above to "cease fire." Hatred and madness had consumed reason.

The unexpected firefight lasted for more than ten minutes until the commanders of both sides risked their lives to rush to the front line and shout loudly through megaphones, which barely stopped this absurd battle.

When the smoke cleared, the scene was a mess. Twenty-three Self-Defense Force members lay dead in pools of blood, and seventeen American soldiers closed their eyes forever.

The night in Tokyo finally saw the flames of war ignite. Although small in scale, it was extremely serious in nature—this was the first direct armed conflict between U.S. forces stationed in Japan and the Japan Self-Defense Forces.

Four o'clock in the morning, at Victoria Peak.

He Damin slowly opened his eyes, the last wisp of his divided soul returning to its original position. His body swayed, almost falling, but fortunately he managed to grab the window frame in time. Seven consecutive nights of controlling his divided soul had pushed his mental energy to its limit, and even with his Nascent Soul stage cultivation, he felt unprecedented exhaustion. His face was as pale as paper, his lips were cracked, and his eyes were filled with deep weariness, but a satisfied, cold smile lingered at the corner of his mouth.

enough.

Seven days, a full seven days. Tokyo, this once prosperous and orderly city, has descended into utter chaos. Gangs are killing each other, suffering heavy casualties and crippling their strength; ordinary citizens are experiencing mental breakdowns, and violent incidents are rampant; the Self-Defense Forces and US forces stationed in Japan have clashed directly, and relations between the two countries have plummeted to a freezing point—this chaos is unlikely to subside in several months, or even half a year.

In the past few months, the remnants of vengeful spirits who escaped during the Yasukuni Shrine incident will find their most suitable home in this land filled with death, hatred, fear, and madness, rapidly multiplying and growing stronger. And his Soul-Refining Banner has already absorbed a full three hundred of the most vicious and resentful souls in these seven days!

He Damin could clearly feel a powerful, violent force emanating from the Soul Refining Banner. The absorbed souls struggled and roared wildly within the banner, devouring each other, and were ultimately refined into the purest soul power, which nourished his Yang Spirit. Nourished by this force, his Yang Spirit power became more solid, bringing him one step closer to his next advancement.

Light footsteps sounded behind her. Chen Xueru walked over, wearing a thick bathrobe and carrying a cup of warm, steaming milk. Her eyes were filled with worry and heartache.

"Is it over?" she asked softly, handing him the milk.

He Damin took the milk, its warmth dispelling some of the chill in his body. He took a sip, the rich milky aroma filling his mouth. He nodded, his voice hoarse, barely audible: "It's over." He Damin thought to himself, it hadn't even begun! How could it be over? His goals were twofold: first, to collect more souls to evolve the Soul Refining Banner; second, to create chaos for a while before beginning his massive looting spree. His ultimate goal had always been to plunder all of Japan's wealth—machine tools, electronic equipment, shipbuilding equipment, and other resources. Without chaos, how could he have the opportunity to move them?

Chen Xueru didn't ask any more questions about the chaos in Tokyo or what he had done in the past seven days. She simply leaned silently on his shoulder, reached out, and hugged him tightly, using her body heat to warm his cold body.

The two stood there quietly, looking out the window together.

In the distance, the morning light over Victoria Harbour was gradually dispelling the last vestiges of night. Golden sunlight spilled across the sea, shimmering, warm, and serene, a stark contrast to the city thousands of miles away, engulfed in madness and chaos.

"Brother Damin," Chen Xueru suddenly spoke, her voice soft but unusually firm.

"Hmm?" He Damin turned his head to look at her.

"No matter what you're doing," she looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes gentle yet unwavering, "I'll follow you."

He Damin looked into her clear eyes, which held no fear, no doubt, only complete trust and reliance. The trace of violence and coldness in his heart, born from killing and absorbing vengeful spirits, was instantly melted away by her gentleness.

He smiled, a smile that dispelled the weariness on his face and brought a touch of warmth.

"it is good."