65. Judgment
Everyone played until the early hours before returning to the hotel to rest.
In the guest room lobby, Dean sat unreservedly on the cold floor and took out his divination board used for spirit communication, along with the tear-shaped planchette, rubbing it several times in his palm.
The ghosts of the four dead hunters were still trapped in the planchette, awaiting resolution. This particular planchette, having undergone a blood sacrifice, now belonged to Dean and obeyed his commands.
Dean summoned the “Shadow” to guard him. Then, gripping the planchette tightly, he silently recited in his heart—Release the soul, Arman.
Release!
Arman.
He repeated the incantation twice.
A gust of wind surged from within the planchette, sweeping through the bathroom, causing the curtains to flutter.
Dean sat up abruptly.
In the next moment, the Shadow flickered, swirling with black light, and performed a series of grappling motions with both hands in front of Dean, pinning down an invisible entity!
Dean’s spirit surged. He lifted the planchette before his eyes and peered through the glass—
Before the Shadow, a ghost was pinned.
Pale-faced, vacant-eyed, his body ethereal and transparent, as if he might vanish at any moment—it was the recently deceased hunter, Arman.
He was still clad in the cold-weather gear he’d worn at the moment of death.
Dean circled the ghost in wonder, observing him closely.
Compared to the formidable Alexander Raphael’s ghost, this one paled in comparison—even far less than the Shadow itself.
There was no trace of spiritual energy or emotional fluctuation in him, just a lifeless statue, a puppet deprived of its core.
Rigid, stiff.
Dean, the murderer who ended his life, stood right before him, yet the ghost remained unmoved, as if all memories and grudges from his former existence had faded.
“The stronger the ghost, the more complex its thoughts, the closer it is to the living—even capable of direct communication with humans,” Dean recalled the words of the expert, Ms. Marlene Daylin.
“So, the weaker the ghost, the more dull and sluggish it becomes.”
Ordinary people, their spirits too weak, become ghosts like the one before him—dazed and foolish, unable to stir trouble.
Could they communicate at all?
Dean raised an eyebrow, lowered his voice, and spoke to the apparition before him,
“Arman, aside from that incident in the mountains, have you committed any other crimes, harmed or killed any innocent people?”
A dead silence prevailed.
The pale ghost made no sound, no gesture.
Just as Dean felt a twinge of disappointment,
The planchette in his hand began to heat up. A faint, invisible force surged from within, guiding Dean’s hand to place it upon the spirit board etched with numbers and letters.
Swish, swish, swish—
The planchette slid swiftly across the board, its sharp tip pointing to a single word—
“NO.”
...
It works!
Dean clenched his fist in excitement.
Not only had he obtained an answer, but he had discovered a unique method of interrogation.
If he ever encountered a stubborn enemy unwilling to confess, he could simply kill them, turn them into a ghost, and let the planchette do the work!
Powerless against you in life, but in death, you must answer truthfully!
This ability held many possibilities—for instance, assisting the LVPD in solving indoor murder cases.
Bypassing the complex investigation and evidence collection, Dean could simply summon the victim’s ghost and ask for the identity of the killer.
This was the true purpose of a medium!
...
Dean took a deep breath, suppressing the surge of inspiration in his mind, and once again looked through the planchette at the pale ghost under interrogation.
Within a minute, its form faded further, becoming as transparent as flowing water, as though some hidden place in the void was incessantly calling it, slowly drawing it away.
“Arman, the last incident did not result in any grave consequences, nor do you have any prior misdeeds.”
Dean thought of Rust, Brittany, all his friends and family.
There were so many beautiful things in the world.
He need not always harbor malice, killing and then destroying souls.
With this thought,
The Shadow released its hold on Arman, leaving him to silently gaze into the void.
Within three minutes, the ghost became hazy, faded, and vanished into the ether.
Dean raised the planchette again, but could not find a trace of him.
“Where did he go?”
“The soul’s final resting place, the forest that Alvin once saw?”
Dean pondered, continuing the release.
Fat Owen, Scarface, and the taciturn Tom—three ghosts, equally dazed and foolish.
Dean interrogated all three, following his prior procedure.
He found these three were different from Arman—all habitual criminals.
The least among them had two or three lives on their hands. This time, Dean showed no mercy.
The Shadow restrained them, and Dean used the planchette as a weapon, piercing each evil spirit in the chest, watching them, like Alexander before, shatter under the planchette’s powerful and mysterious force, turning to dust.
Their souls were annihilated.
You used the Sleepless One’s planchette to kill 3 ghosts…
Proficiency +3,
Proficiency +3,
Proficiency +2,
Combat lv1 (103/200→111/200)
Specialty Supernatural Hunter activated, you absorbed perception 0.2*2, Perception: 10→10.4
...
Thus, after Dean’s interrogation, three spirits perished and one disappeared.
Dean’s mind cleared, standing again in the dark living room, closing his eyes to sense the changes.
A 0.4 increase in perception.
His eyes, ears, mouth, tongue, and skin tingled with a slight itch and warmth.
“Ghosts possess perception attributes too—is this the sixth sense?”
“But only 0.4 from three? Makes sense. My physical attributes far surpass those of the average person; killing ordinary ghosts will do little for me.”
The greatest benefit of the Supernatural Hunter is to absorb power from strong supernatural entities.
...
Finally,
Dean glanced at the attribute point he’d earned after reaching level 2.
His gaze flickered.
A medium’s relevant attributes are spirit and perception.
His spirit was close to the baseline for mediums, but his perception lagged behind. If he wished to become a true medium, a master of spirit communication, he ought to invest this point in perception.
Moreover, perception affects eyesight—boosting his marksmanship.
Yet Dean leaned toward investing in physique.
With the Shadow and the planchette as his trump cards, he lacked no offensive means.
After effortlessly dispatching four hunters, he remained cautious.
But facing supernatural powers, victory was hard-won, often leaving him gravely wounded and confined to hospital beds for extended periods.
“I don’t want to idle away in hospitals anymore.”
“So I must strengthen my resilience, survivability, and recovery—living is the only way to the future.”
Dean hesitated no longer.
In the next moment, the attribute point vanished.
Physique: 11.6→12.6.
...
Heat surged through his entire body.
Dean curled up against the cold bathroom wall, tensing his muscles, his face flushed as he endured wave after wave of “electric shocks.”
Thunder rumbled!
He fancied he heard his blood rushing through his veins like a mighty river.
Between muscle and organs, it felt as if insects crawled, tingling and warm.
After several seconds—or perhaps minutes—Dean, drenched in sweat, recovered, clenching his fists, twisting his neck, his joints and bones crackling like fireworks.
An unprecedented lightness.
His vigor was as explosive as a volcano about to erupt!
He looked in the mirror and was surprised to find his skin more delicate and lustrous; the burn scars on the back of his hand, the knife wound on his back, had faded a bit, about the size of a fingernail.
“If I keep improving my physique, these scars might eventually disappear completely.”
Dean checked his current status once more:
Character Level: 2 (20/300)
Age: 18
Physique: 11.6→12.6
Strength: 10.6
Agility: 12.1
Perception: 10→10.4
Spirit: 14.2
Willpower: 12.2
...
Abilities: 4/5
Combat lv1 (103/200→111/200)
Marksmanship lv1 (30/200→57/200)
Shadow of the Past lv0 (43→46/100)
Balanced Meditation lv1 (5/200)
Specialties:
Novice Iron Man
Novice Supernatural Hunter
System Abilities:
God’s Perspective lv1: Range 5→10 meters.
Dean closed his eyes, sitting cross-legged on the floor, falling into meditation, communing with the hazy red star.
...
Early the next morning, the sun was gentle, the sea breeze refreshing.
After packing, the group of nine met in the parking lot on the beach at Santa Monica.
“Are you feeling alright, Abby?”
Dean noticed Abby’s pensive expression.
“No, it’s just that some awful guy scratched my hand last night with sharp nails…” Abby showed her left hand; between wrist and thumb was a crescent-shaped wound, half a finger long. It wasn’t deep, but striking, with dark red blood clotted inside.
“That’s pretty serious. Does it hurt?”
“I treated it last night, so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“When we get back to Las Vegas, you’d better see a doctor.”
“Mm, thanks for caring.”
“Alright, everyone’s here,” Rust interrupted, reminding, “Check your licenses, wallets, keys one more time. Make sure everything’s in order, and let’s head home!”
“Next summer, we’ll come again!”
“Yeah!”
...
Three cars pulled out of the parking lot and onto Route 66, heading back toward Las Vegas.