Jin Kingdom.

In the heart of Yun City.

“You damn ghost, dead seven days and still got the guts to crawl back for revenge? You really don’t know your place.”

The young man in luxurious robes snarled at the blood-drenched ghostly figure before him.

His name was Luke Johnson, the only son of the Johnson Clan of Yun City—a spoiled, arrogant wastrel known far and wide for his cruelty and lawlessness.

The female ghost glared at him with hollow, pale eyes. Her body, covered in wounds, oozed hatred. The air grew cold as resentment seeped through the courtyard, casting the whole mansion under a heavy, ominous wind.

“You and your dead old man were both stubborn fools. Didn’t obey me while alive, died because of it—deserved every damn bit.”

Luke sneered, stepping forward.

“Let me tell you, in Yun City, my family is god. I want wind, there’s wind. I want rain, it rains. Disobey me? You die.”

“You turn into a ghost to get revenge on me? That’s rich. Don’t forget who my family is. Even the Heavenly Master Hall in the capital owes us favors. You, a lowly ghost—what can you do?”

Luke’s arrogance grew with every word. His voice was loud, full of disdain, as if he could crush her a second time with his words alone.

The ghost was Lydia Griffin, once the proud eldest daughter of the Griffin Clan. Because Luke took a liking to her and couldn’t have her, he sent killers to slaughter her family and had his lackeys defile and murder her.

The injustice twisted her soul, turning her into a vengeful ghost. Now, on the seventh night after her death, she returned for Luke’s blood.

With a gust of wind, every lantern in the house was snuffed out.

The pale moonlight lit up Lydia’s face—it was so still, so cold, it sent chills down the spine.

“Luke Johnson, you vile monster! You ruined me, butchered my kin. I don’t care if it damns my soul for eternity—today, I’m dragging you to hell with me!”

Luke chuckled coldly.

“Well then, let’s send you back down, again.”

His voice turned sharp and icy.

“Master Walker, it’s time.”

With those words, a man appeared at Luke’s side.

He looked to be in his forties, face weathered and stern, donned in a grey robe, long sword in hand. He had the look of a man who walked both among men and spirits.

“Ghost catcher,” Lydia snarled, her face darkening.

No wonder Luke wasn’t afraid. He'd been ready all along.

Ghost catchers were rare and powerful. Gifted from birth, they harnessed the balance of yin and yang, fire and water. The strongest among them could seal demons, raise storms, even bend the laws of life and death.

Ethan Walker let out a quiet sigh.

He hated it—using his skills to protect a scumbag like Luke. But he couldn't let a ghost rampage, and the price Luke’s family offered… was hard to refuse.

“Ghost,” Walker said lowly, “I know your grievance runs deep. But the dead are dead. You should let go and move on.”

Lydia’s face twisted with rage.

“Old priest, let me ask you—if someone murdered your parents, defiled your wife and daughter, and drove you to death… would you still talk about moving on? Don’t pretend to be righteous. You’re just as dirty as him.”

Walker’s face hardened.

“The living and the dead walk different paths. No matter the hatred, you don’t get to cross that line. This is your last warning—if you don’t leave now, I won’t hold back.”

His voice was firm.

But in the next blink, his expression tensed.

Lydia had already attacked.The blood-red ghost claw shot toward Luke Johnson, stretching like a whip, ghostly energy coiling around its arm, chilling to the bone.

Fast. Much faster than expected.

For a newly formed vengeful spirit to move like this—it was rare.

Ethan Walker had fought through dozens of brutal encounters, subduing at least eighty malevolent ghosts in his time. Dealing with a female ghost, no matter how vicious, wasn’t usually this tough.

Just as the claw was about to reach Luke’s throat, Ethan raised one hand, chanted a swift incantation, and his sword slashed through the air like lightning—cleanly severing the ghost’s arm.

“Argh—!”

The ghost wailed. Pain from the lost limb twisted her face into a snarl, her eyes burning with hatred.

There was only one thing on her mind—kill.

“I’ll see you dead!” she screamed.

Seeing her flare up, Ethan yanked out a yellow talisman, bit his finger, and smeared it with fresh blood.

“Heavens and elements! Banish the evil, seal the ghost!”

The talisman flew from his hand and spun midair, locking into a glowing circle that trapped her dead center.

Crack! Snap!

Lightning sparked inside the array, blasting her body again and again. Not even a vengeful ghost like her could bear that kind of agony.

“Evil spirit, be purged!”

With her trapped, Ethan wasted no time. He poured power into the array, aiming to finish her for good.

“Luke! Luke!”

Her screams were desperate. So close—just one step more and her revenge would’ve been complete.

Why?

Why wasn’t she given that chance?

Clank. Clank. Clank.

The grating sound of heavy chains broke the silence. Under the pale moonlight, another figure entered the ruined Johnson estate.

“Lydia Griffin. The hour has come. Return to dust. Let this life’s grudges end in this life.”

The voice was dull, like iron grinding on stone. No emotion, just a decree. Yet it sent a chill coursing through everyone—living or dead.

“Lydia Griffin. The bridge to the afterlife won’t wait. Come with me.”

The newcomer seemed no older than twenty, dressed in a dark robe with serpent patterns. A seal hung from his waist. In his hand, he carried a thick old tome.

The moment he laid eyes on Lydia, he stepped into the array and reached out.

The circle shattered like glass—gone in an instant.

Lydia didn’t resist. Her eyes dulled, and she stood quietly by his side like a docile child.

The fury that had consumed her seconds ago? Gone without a trace.

Who was this man?

Ethan stared, stunned.

Just a glance had left his spirit shaken. The ghost-containment array had been broken with one hand—and Ethan couldn’t even sense the man’s cultivation. It was completely blank.

That level of concealment? Only someone beyond the Mortal Realm. Maybe someone from the Innate Stage?

But that couldn’t be—he was too young. Even among the elite in the capital, no prodigy like this had ever been heard of.

The man ignored both Ethan and Luke. He opened his book and read aloud in a low voice.

“Lydia Griffin. Eighteen years of age. Born the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month in the Year of the Boar. Kind by nature. According to the Book of Life and Death, your time has passed. Come back with me to the underworld.”

As he finished, Lydia simply nodded and followed him without a word. Docile, like a lamb.

What the hell was happening?

Ethan and Luke stood there, frozen.

Underworld?

What kind of place was that?

“Ethan, you can’t let her go!” Luke panicked, grabbing Ethan’s sleeve. “I hired you at top price to make sure she never comes back! If she escapes, who knows when she’ll strike again? I can't hire you forever!"Ethan Walker gave a nod and stepped forward.