Lao Mo paused mid-sentence, pulled out a cigarette pack and passed it around. After lighting one for himself, he exhaled and continued, "The Bureau has its own procedures. Except for sudden, high-level emergencies, most cases start with a report filed to the local police. They're the first filter—they'll assess whether what's being described is truly paranormal. About eighty percent of those reports? Turns out to be illusions, pranks, people faking hauntings for money or revenge, or just weird natural phenomena. All that gets weeded out early.
"The remaining cases get funneled through a special channel into our Bureau of Paranormal Investigation, where Director Ouyang and his team sort through them again.
"Don't be fooled by what's left—only about fifteen percent make it that far. And that's before we cut out another half. After that, the truly high-risk cases are assigned either to our Second Department or to Director Lin Feng's team, depending on severity.
"Here's an example: remember the time Yang Xiao caused a stir at the 15-story Qilin Building? Looked terrifying on the surface, sure. But it wasn't a sustained threat. He just stirred up trouble once, and after that, the residents all moved out. No further public harm was expected—so we shelved it. We prioritize cases that could cause large-scale casualties. Honestly, if Yang Xiao hadn't escalated things later by messing with Soul Harvesting and stealing people's Celestial Souls, we might still be ignoring Qilin."
Ximen Lian, who had been quietly listening, chimed in, "This graveyard case got assigned to the Fourth Department. I heard a word or two from Zhang Tianlei before the Spring Festival—he said they'd be here to deal with it in a few days. Might already be here now. Graveyard hauntings like this don't usually require Director Lin to come in person, right?"
"Definitely not," said Lao Mo. "Lin Feng's mostly in a wheelchair these days. Took some serious damage in that train explosion. Word is, he even inhaled corpse toxins during the blast. It's a miracle he's still alive—if it were you or me, we'd have died a hundred times over."
Mention of Director Lin made me pause. I'd just seen him yesterday during Sun Fatty's promotion ceremony—he really was in a wheelchair, just like Lao Mo said. Aside from looking pale and sluggish, it was hard to tell how serious his condition was now. I was about to ask more when, out of nowhere, Xiong Wanyi suddenly marched up to Sun Fatty, pointed a finger, and exploded:
"Sun Fatty, who the hell do you think you are? What makes you qualified to be Deputy Director? Huh? How much did you pay for that position?"
His outburst shocked all of us. Even Sun Fatty, with all his composure, couldn't hide the sudden flush of rage—or alcohol. His whole face turned red. Lao Mo and Ximen immediately grabbed Xiong Wanyi, trying to pull him back. But Xiong wasn't finished. He kept ranting, voice slurred, flailing to get free. Lao Mo finally slapped a hand over his mouth: "Xiong damn fool, what the hell are you saying! You always go nuts after a drink. If you can't handle booze, drink water next time!"
Lao Mo's tone made it clear—he wasn't trying to escalate things. We were colleagues, after all. No point in ruining everything over one drunken tantrum. I gave Sun Fatty a tug and said, "Old Xiong's really hammered tonight. He's like this every time—sees booze, goes berserk. Someone brings the drinks, he brings the drama."
Even I could tell Lao Mo was smoothing things over. No doubt Sun Fatty picked up on it too. But whether Xiong Wanyi was really drunk or just using alcohol as cover, he wouldn't shut up. Even with Lao Mo's hand on his mouth, he kept mumbling angrily. Eventually, his throat convulsed—and Lao Mo yanked his hand away just in time.
"Blaaargh!"
Xiong Wanyi puked again.
We were all ready for it this time and jumped aside, holding our noses. I took a few quick steps back—then suddenly realized, just ahead of me, was a vast stretch of tombs. Somehow, during all our wandering and bickering, we'd already reached the haunted graveyard the restaurant owner had warned us about.
Half a year ago, I would've stayed at that restaurant all night rather than come near this place. Even if I had to pass through, I would've sprinted the whole way. But now, things were different. To be honest, I was hoping something ghostly would pop out—maybe a vengeful spirit or a wandering demon. If anything, it'd be a perfect distraction. Xiong Wanyi was still going off on Sun Fatty. Lao Mo and Ximen were trying to hold him back, but he was only getting more worked up. If a ghost showed up now, it might snap him out of it—and maybe scare some sobriety into him.
I wasn't exactly sober myself. Maybe that's why I didn't even notice the black Audi parked two hundred meters ahead. Inside were four investigators from the Bureau's Fourth Department. Leading them was Wang Tianlei, one of Director Lin Feng's subordinates. We'd worked together briefly during the Ghost Ship incident.
Turns out Ximen Lian was right—those four were indeed here to handle the graveyard haunting. We hadn't seen them, but they had seen us. And judging from the way we were staggering around, they could tell we'd been drinking.
It was dead quiet outside, so Xiong Wanyi's outburst at Sun Fatty carried clearly across the cemetery. The Fourth Department investigators heard every word. Wang Tianlei practically stuck out his tongue in shock. After all, Sun Fatty had just been promoted to Deputy Director. For someone to publicly berate him like that—it was basically a resignation letter shouted at full volume.
Just as I was helping Lao Mo and Ximen pull Xiong Wanyi away, something flickered in front of me. Then I heard a soft shift in the earth.
The nearest grave mound moved.
The dirt and gravel on the surface began to slide down. "Xiong, shut your damn mouth!" I shouted.
"What?!" Xiong Wanyi blinked drunkenly at me. "Lazi, I know you're tight with Sun Fatty, but don't—hey! What the hell are you yelling for?!"
As he spoke, the grave mound bulged. The soil collapsed downward—and then, two pale, corpse-white hands reached out from beneath the earth.
They clawed through the surface. Then, the thing beneath began to emerge.
The figure crawling out of the grave was stark naked, pale from head to toe. His flesh had already begun to rot—through a hole in his abdomen, you could see his ribs exposed beneath. Of the five of us standing there, only Sun Fatty didn't recognize what it was. The newly appointed Deputy Director tilted his head, studying the creature for a while before muttering, "He's got a physical body, so he's not a ghost. But his arms and legs are too flexible for a zombie. I don't know... What the hell is this thing?"
"You don't even know what that is? And you're the Deputy Director?" Xiong Wanyi sneered as he shot Sun Fatty a look full of contempt. Lao Mo, worried the two of them would start bickering again, quickly pulled Xiong Wanyi back a step, then turned to explain to Sun Fatty:
"It's a Corpse Demon. Usually happens when the vengeful spirit of someone who died violently can't find a substitute soul to take its place. So it temporarily possesses a corpse. The original soul of the body has already reincarnated—the vengeful spirit is just squatting in there."
"Oh... like a hermit crab," said Sun Fatty, not even bothering to look at Xiong Wanyi again. Instead, he turned his attention to the Corpse Demon.
After crawling out of the grave, the Corpse Demon let out a low, raspy growl. Then it began to stagger toward us. Despite its eerie presence, we weren't particularly alarmed. After all, it was just a vengeful ghost possessing a corpse—nothing that veterans like Ximen Lian and Lao Mo hadn't dealt with before. Even Sun Fatty, with his hit-or-miss skill set, didn't seem too concerned.
None of us had firearms that night—we'd come out drinking—but our collapsible batons were still tucked in our belts, out of sheer habit. And that would be more than enough for something like this.
When the Corpse Demon was about five or six meters away, Lao Mo, Ximen Lian, and Xiong Wanyi suddenly sprang into action. As if rehearsed a hundred times, they quickly took up a pin-shaped formation and surrounded the creature.
Corpse Demons, unlike normal spirits, retain part of their human consciousness—the ability to judge a situation and make decisions. That's how they know how to choose substitutes. So when it saw that instead of fleeing, we had it surrounded, it hesitated. Its instincts told it to test the weakest link. Unfortunately, the poor bastard it picked was none other than the drunken, red-faced Xiong Wanyi.
Xiong Wanyi had been looking for something to vent his anger on. When the Corpse Demon lunged at him, he didn't even try to dodge. Instead, he smacked the creature square in the face with a brutal palm strike. His reflexes were faster than the demon's.
Smack! The sound echoed through the silent graveyard, crisp and loud. Even Wang Tianlei, 200 meters away, heard it clear as day.
Everyone in Second Department undergoes special training. Not to mention, they've got protective incantations tattooed into their palms. Their experience with the supernatural puts them way above rookies like me or even Sun Fatty. After that slap, Xiong Wanyi grabbed the Corpse Demon by the throat and began slapping it repeatedly with his free hand, all while cursing:
"You think you're something, huh? Talking down to our Director Qiu, calling him 'Old Qiu', huh? Deputy Director, huh? Who do you think you are?! You think you've got the right, huh?!"
With every "huh," another slap landed on the demon's face. And the creature, stunned, offered no resistance as Xiong rained down palm after palm like he was printing money.
Then, out of nowhere, a gust of foul wind whipped up behind the Corpse Demon—whack! A baton struck the back of its head with immense force, sending the demon flying two or three meters through the air. It landed hard right at Lao Mo's feet.
Lao Mo didn't hesitate. He stomped down on the creature's back, pinning it in place. I got a good look then—where the baton had hit, the flesh looked like it had been splashed with acid, bubbling and eroded away.
The one who struck was Sun Fatty. After being mocked by Xiong Wanyi all night, this was his moment to blow off steam. As the baton landed, he growled, "You think just because I don't talk back I'm made of clay? I am the Deputy Director, dammit!"
Xiong Wanyi's temper flared up again. He yanked out his own baton and glared at Sun Fatty. The two of them lunged forward at once, shoving Lao Mo aside and unleashing another brutal round of blows on the helpless Corpse Demon.
Each man delivered seven or eight fierce strikes. The creature was quickly reduced to a mangled mess—its flesh peeling away, bones shattered. It wasn't long before it barely resembled anything human.
Sun Fatty and Xiong Wanyi didn't stop. The Corpse Demon howled in agony, its cries echoing in the darkness. The sound was downright bone-chilling. With each strike, smoke began to rise from the demon's body—white at first, then tinged yellow. Suddenly, with a flash of sparks, it caught fire.
Still, the two men kept beating it.
Ximen Lian and Lao Mo were frozen in disbelief. I was the first to snap out of it—I rushed forward and pulled Sun Fatty away, while Lao Mo and Ximen restrained Xiong Wanyi. The three of us tried desperately to calm them down.
Far away, Wang Tianlei watched this surreal scene unfold: two investigators bludgeoning a Corpse Demon into oblivion, while three others scrambled to restrain them.
By the time Wang Tianlei reached us, the Corpse Demon had been reduced to ashes.
To his credit, Wang handled things tactfully. He separated Sun Fatty and Xiong Wanyi and ordered one of his team to drive me and Sun Fatty back to headquarters. Lao Mo, Ximen Lian, and Xiong Wanyi stayed behind to clean up the scene.
Back at the dorms, I collapsed into bed and blacked out. When I next opened my eyes, it was already the following morning.
If not for the alarm I'd set, I might have slept clear through to the afternoon. My head was pounding, still reeling from the hangover. Felt like someone else's brain was rattling around inside my skull.
Originally, I planned to ask Sun Fatty for the day off. But then I remembered—he drank even more than I did last night. Who knows if he's even up yet? No telling when he'll show up to work. And with Po Jun just promoted to Vice Director, that left only the two of us in the First Department. I couldn't very well dump everything on Deputy Director Pu and let him run the whole show alone.
No use relying on Sun Fatty today. Gritting my teeth, I dragged myself out of bed, gave myself a half-hearted wash, skipped breakfast, and stumbled out the door toward the Bureau.