Chapter 81: Blood Debt

The "Mother's" mouth had always been bound with cloth strips, but now it crudely tore them off with its own hands—as if ripping off its own jaw, just like the last time it possessed Xu Dan and tried to tear open her mouth. There was no hesitation in its movements; it showed itself no mercy. Its upper and lower jaws were wrenched wide open, along with the rotting flesh of its cheeks and the tattered cloth.

"Ah!" A piercing, heart-wrenching scream erupted from its throat, its back arched as if convulsing in retching. After a couple of dry heaves, it buried its head, and a mass of sticky, writhing things spewed from its mouth onto the lawn—instantly, the patch of grass withered.

What it vomited was a wriggling bundle, which scattered on the ground, revealing dozens—perhaps a hundred—centipedes, each as thick as a finger. These many-legged creatures twisted and crawled rapidly in several directions, heading for the ghostly shadows battling the infants, latching on like maggots to bone, never letting go. Under the onslaught of the centipedes, the shadows curled up and slithered along the ground in retreat, while the eight ghost infants, now emboldened, shrieked like wildcats and gave chase.

Qi Yan was still struggling with the black shadow wrapped around his head. He barely managed to free himself enough to gasp for breath before being engulfed again, as if the thing meant to swallow him whole. Although his resistance was arduous, at least he could hold out for a while.

Finally, when Qi Yan wound the obsidian bead chain of the spirit talisman around the shadow’s neck, the thing recoiled in fear.

Elsewhere, Shinji Watanabe deftly wielded the white paper rope in his hand, lashing at "Mother’s" face as if whipping a wretched woman. Each strike drew a shrill scream, her long black hair whipping wildly with each blow. Yet she dared not seize the rope with her ghostly claws; even these few lashes had split her cheeks open like knife wounds.

Qi Yan used a similar tactic, clutching the talisman and whipping the black shadow with the obsidian beads, which proved even more effective. But then a troublesome thing happened—the talisman, while self-repairing over time, was not sturdy enough as a weapon. After a few strikes, the chain snapped, scattering the black beads to the ground.

The shadow, emboldened, lunged with a mouth wide as a washbasin, but Qi Yan now understood its tactics. Before it could pounce, he dropped to the ground and locked its head between his legs, pinning its jaws shut like a deadly scissor hold from a childhood brawl.

Though the shadow struggled desperately to bite him, Qi Yan’s hand searched the grass, grabbing a few obsidian beads and scattering them at it like beans. The shadow recoiled from the beads but attacked again...

Shinji Watanabe seemed to gain momentum as he fought, his spirit rising. He lashed "Mother" a dozen times with the rope. After the fourteenth blow, "Mother" finally retaliated, grabbing the rope as it struck her face. Her hand clutched it as if seizing a thorn branch, black blood oozing between her fingers. Enduring the excruciating pain, she halted the rope’s assault.

"Ha!!!"

Her previously torn mouth yawned open, and she let out a piercing, high-frequency shriek like a sonic blast.

All the refracting mirrors nearby shuddered, some even cracking. The shadows vibrated violently, and even the eight ghost infants froze mid-attack, as if hearing something unspeakably terrifying.

Shinji Watanabe immediately opened his mouth, clapping his hands over his ears as his eardrums throbbed painfully, like the descent of an airplane. He was the most affected; after four or five seconds of the shriek, his vision blurred.

Only Qi Yan seemed unscathed—though the ghostly wail was grating, it was not unbearable.

The shadow entangling him paused its attack, opening its mouth wide. Qi Yan seized the moment, grabbing seven or eight obsidian beads and, clutching them with his arm, thrust his whole arm into the gaping maw.

The revolting black ghost, as if swallowing explosives, was ravaged from within by the obsidian beads and instantly exploded, dissipating like a puff of black smoke in the air.

Unable to endure further, Shinji Watanabe released his ears and whipped the rope out again, but this time he wrapped it around "Mother’s" neck instead of lashing.

The shriek stopped abruptly. "Mother" writhed desperately, trying to break free. But the Japanese exorcist seized the opportunity, striding forward, a blue talisman between his palms, and slapped it onto "Mother’s" abdomen.

A blue flame, the size of a dinner plate, flashed and vanished, but the effect was immediate—"Mother’s" spectral body was blasted several meters away, crashing to the ground.

Shinji Watanabe shook his head, frowning. The high-frequency ghostly wail had left him dizzy, and blood trickled from his left ear—his eardrum was ruptured.

He suppressed the pain and dizziness, swaying slightly as he let go of the rope.

The white rope, still looped around "Mother’s" neck, suddenly wriggled like a live snake, coiling tightly around her. Bound by it, "Mother" was momentarily paralyzed.

At that moment, Qi Yan suddenly rushed over and threw a punch at Shinji Watanabe’s face.

Watanabe dodged easily, but Qi Yan didn’t give up. He grabbed him from behind, locking his arms so he couldn’t move.

It only lasted a moment. Though slender, Watanabe’s strength was formidable. He wrenched an arm free, seized Qi Yan’s wrist, and twisted it forcefully.

"Ah!" Qi Yan cried out in pain, but still clung to him with his uninjured hand.

He couldn’t let this guy get the upper hand—how could he be overpowering "Mother" herself?!

A major reason was that he was alive, not a ghost, and no ordinary man at that—a powerful exorcist wielding a strange artifact.

But Qi Yan was alive too. Surely those demon-banishing techniques wouldn’t be so effective against the living?

Still, this guy was a trained fighter. Qi Yan was good at brawling, but mostly against regular folk—against someone truly skilled, he was outmatched.

Fortunately, Watanabe hadn’t brought other weapons, having snuck into the convention center.

He kicked Qi Yan to the ground and was about to stomp on him when Qi Yan, scrambling, grabbed a wriggling creature beside him and hurled it at Watanabe’s face—a centipede, which landed on his shoulder. Watanabe instinctively brushed it off.

Qi Yan leapt up, grabbed Watanabe’s collar with his good hand, and headbutted him without a word.

A dull thud resounded as their foreheads collided, sending both staggering back. Since Qi Yan had attacked, he fared slightly better. Watanabe, already dazed by the ghost’s shriek, stumbled, unsteady on his feet.

As Qi Yan steadied himself and opened his eyes, he saw, looming behind Watanabe, two figures dripping with blood—skinless, glistening with wet gore, yet far more solid than the shadows. One was tall, the other petite and feminine.

The two blood-drenched specters lunged from either side.

Watanabe, jolted by the overwhelming stench of blood, turned—too late. Two bloodied hands clamped around his neck, shoving him back several steps until he crashed into a refracting mirror. Still, the blood specters pinned him there, pressing his throat against the glass.

"They’re..." Qi Yan was startled by the sudden turn. He recognized these two blood corpses well. They weren’t shikigami, nor his own spirit talisman; only two vengeful ghosts would trouble this exorcist now.

Glancing aside, he saw that the white rope binding "Mother" was turning black—about to snap.

But the blood ghosts’ assault was brief. Though Watanabe was momentarily pinned, he quickly recovered. Even as their hands squeezed his throat, his arms were free. He formed two seals and slapped them onto the skinless ghosts, easily flinging them aside.

Rubbing his reddened neck, Watanabe’s eyes blazed with ferocity. Though wounded, he was still brimming with energy. He pressed his index and middle fingers together and charged at the two blood specters.

(End of this chapter)