Evil spirit.
1168 Words
Klaun swallowed the once-difficult-to-stomach black bread in a few quick bites and drained the cup of water in one go. He then rubbed his hands together, gathering the dust from the floor, and sat cross-legged, using his fingers to inscribe words from memory into the dirt while softly vocalizing them.
Fragments of insight began to surface in his mind, and hazy memories became increasingly clear.
He continued to write and recite, immersed in his own world, utterly unaware of any fatigue.
Each moment of effort yielded positive feedback, creating an addictive sensation.
Had he possessed such a golden opportunity in his previous life, how could he have been merely an underachiever? He would have surely been a top-tier talent, renowned across the nation.
Gradually, he lost awareness of his surroundings, focusing solely on recalling and writing the still-familiar words, oblivious to the occasional patrol by the officer.
Memories flowed like water from a soaked sponge; squeeze it, and something would always emerge.
However, no matter how much water it contained, after countless squeezes, the sponge would soon be nearly dry.
When Klaun struggled for an extended time to remember words that could enhance his proficiency, he snapped back to reality.
He could not tell how long he had been lost in thought, but the room had grown dim, and the faint yellow light from outside barely illuminated the words on the floor.
He silently summoned the golden wall, which materialized before him.
【Faruk Language: 986/1000; Level One】 (You have transcended the status of a language novice, but you still have a way to go before achieving conversational fluency.) Almost there, he needed to discover a new method for improvement.
Klaun stroked his chin, gazing thoughtfully toward the illuminated area.
Through relentless practice, he had come to understand that each increment of proficiency represented his mastery of a word and its related phrases.
In other words, he had grasped fewer than a thousand words.
This number was woefully insufficient for a native in his twenties, especially since he would soon face questioning from the priest.
Klaun stood up and approached the door, calling out, “Officer Aru! Officer Aru!”
As he practiced, memories were continually awakened; he had clearly and comprehensively sorted through the daily life of his predecessor.
In recent years, anyone he had conversed with became a vivid recollection, complete with names and snippets of interaction.
The last potion he had delivered to Aru was a concoction modified by his father, designed to restore male vigor, ensuring a night of unwavering strength.
“What’s the matter, shouting at this hour?”
Aru appeared, bleary-eyed and irritated, at the iron bars; he was the very officer who had delivered the black bread.
He had barely fallen asleep when he was disturbed, and his irritation ran high.
Although he had spoken casually during the day about the ease of handling the spirit possession case, unease lingered in the nighttime hours.
After wandering over twice, he noted that Klaun was merely writing in the dust while muttering to himself.
This relaxed Aru considerably, allowing him to begrudgingly return to sleep.
“Speak, what is it?”
Klaun beamed, “Officer Aru, could you please bring me my herbalism book?”
Upon his entry into the police station that morning, he had carried a revolver and a book on herbs, all of which had been confiscated by the officers.
“Are you still in the mood to read?” Aru looked at him skeptically, instinctively reaching for his holstered pistol.
Klaun understood the implication: a spirit incident had occurred, his entire family was lost, yet he wished to read—something was amiss.
He forced a grave expression, saying, “I can’t sleep. You know our family relied on my father, and now that he’s gone, the living must fend for themselves.”
Though Aru's hand remained near his g*n, his expression softened.
Seizing the moment, Klaun quickly added, “In the future, when you procure potions from me, you’ll receive a ten percent discount.”
“Make it seven percent.”
“Deal! However, only three potions can be discounted each month; the rest will be at the full price.”
“Three it is,” Aru let down his guard, a lewd smile spreading across his face, knowing three would suffice for a month’s supply.
“Wait here, I’ll get it for you.”
“Thank you!”
Aru soon returned with a thick book and even provided a kerosene lamp for light.
Indeed, who would offer assistance without some ulterior motive?
After expressing his gratitude, Klaun eagerly began to read.
The book was tattered and covered with dense annotations, indicating the previous owner had diligently studied its contents.
This night would surely be one of sleepless toil!
Klaun felt he had never been so diligent in two lifetimes.
As he watched his proficiency steadily rise, a sense of profound satisfaction filled him.
The next day, at noon.
A golden light flickered in Klaun’s eyes.
【Faruk Language: 1688/5000; Level Three】 (You have mastered this language proficiently.)
【Herbalism: 119/2000; Level Two】 (You can recognize most common herbs and understand their properties, significantly increasing your success rate in potion crafting.) The Level Two herbalism was displayed in white, while the Level Three Faruk language glimmered in green...
At that moment, in the police station's reception room.
Heru's face was ashen; after assisting the priest with a spirit possession case, he had returned to find the town beset by an even graver spirit incident.
Over ten lives had been claimed on Stink Street overnight!
The severity of the situation left his captain in dire straits, unless they could capture the malicious spirit responsible.
Yet, the nature of such a spirit was terrifying; even with a hundredfold courage, he wouldn’t dare confront it.
Father Nick sat solemnly in his black garments, a golden badge depicting a blazing flame and a hammer, the sacred emblem of Hephaestus, the Lord of Flame.
The Faruk Kingdom lay in the northern continent, where winters were brutally cold.
The Lord of Flame was the prevailing faith here, and people revered this deity for the warmth brought by fire during the biting cold.
Nick’s expression was grave as he examined the victims.
He noted the presence of "soul condensation" on the deceased, indicating their souls had been forcibly extracted!
Souls truly existed, ethereal yet positioned somewhere within the biological brain.
However, through nefarious means, souls could be solidified, transforming them into a tangible entity.
The fact that a malevolent spirit could employ soul condensation made the situation rather precarious for him.
“Father, what should we do now?” Heru asked, seeking guidance.
Such supernatural cases could only be addressed by the priest of the Lord of Flame.
Nick returned to focus: “Bring Klaun to the church; I will conduct an exorcism there. If he is indeed possessed, we can eliminate it directly. If not, we can clear his name.”
- Writer
