Chapter 6: Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6: The Price of Answers

The black light threw her across the room.

She crashed through a display case, shattering glass and scattering porcelain figurines across the floor. The old woman's body lay twisted among the debris, but the soul had already separated—a shimmering form rising from the broken shell.

"You're quicker than the others," she said, floating above her stolen vessel. "But just as stupid."

Jiang Chen gripped his staff, the wood warm against his palms. The ghost of a rich couple watched from the corner, huddled together, their forms flickering with fear. He'd deal with them after.

"I'm not letting you go," he said.

"You're not letting me go?" She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. "Child, I've been possessing bodies since before you were born. I've seen dynasties rise and fall. I've worn emperors and beggars, generals and whores. You think a stick of wood and a fancy title scare me?"

She lunged.

Not at him—at the window.

Jiang Chen swung the staff, extending it mid-arc. The chain shot out, wrapping around her ankle, yanking her back. She twisted, claws raking across his chest. The pain was sharp, immediate, blood soaking through his shirt.

But he didn't let go.

"Impressive," she snarled. "You can take a hit. Most of your kind can't."

"Most of your kind don't kill soul reapers."

"I told you. I'm not most of anything."

She dissolved, reforming behind him. He spun, too slow. Her hand passed through his back, ice spreading through his lungs. He gasped, dropping to one knee. The staff clattered against the floor.

"Here's what's going to happen," she said, standing over him. "You're going to let me leave. You're going to pretend you never found me. And in return, I'll give you something better than names."

"Nothing's better than—"

"The truth about your death."

He looked up. Her form wavered, translucent, but her eyes were solid—black pits that swallowed light.

"I told you. I can show you who framed you. But I can do more than that. I can show you *why*."

"You're lying."

"I'm a liar. That's my nature." She crouched down, bringing her face close to his. "But I'm also a survivor. And right now, surviving means convincing you not to drag me back to Diyu. So I'll give you a sample. Free of charge."

She touched his forehead.

The world dissolved.

---

He was back in the courtroom.

Not the execution chamber. The trial. Six months ago. He sat in the defendant's box, wearing a cheap suit that didn't fit, his hands cuffed to the rail. The judge stared down at him with cold, bored eyes.

"The prosecution calls He Wei."

A man rose from the gallery. Mid-fifties. Expensive suit. Gold-rimmed glasses. The prosecutor. He walked to the witness stand with the confidence of someone who'd never lost a case.

"Mr. He, can you describe the defendant's relationship with the victim?"

"Jiang Chen was his accountant. He handled all his financial affairs."

"And did you find any irregularities in those accounts?"

"Significant ones. Over three million yuan was transferred to offshore accounts over a period of eighteen months. The trail leads directly to the defendant's personal holdings."

The courtroom murmured. The judge banged his gavel.

"Mr. Jiang, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

"On what basis?"

"The accounts were altered. Someone changed the numbers."

"And do you have evidence of this tampering?"

He'd frozen. Of course he didn't have evidence. The evidence had been destroyed. The files had been deleted. The witnesses had disappeared. He was a low-level accountant who'd made the mistake of trusting the wrong people.

The judge nodded, as if he'd expected nothing less. "The court finds the defendant guilty. Sentencing will be—"

The scene shattered.

---

Jiang Chen gasped, tearing away from the ghost's touch. He was back in the antique shop, on his knees, sweat pouring down his face.

"That was real," he whispered.

"Every detail. I saw it in your memories, but I also saw it in others. I've possessed people connected to your case." She stood, brushing off her spectral robes. "Your prosecutor is clean. Too clean. His finances are immaculate. His reputation is spotless. No one gets that clean without help."

"Who helped him?"

"Now that would be telling." She smiled. "And telling requires payment."

"I already told you. I can't let you go."

"You can't stop me either." She gestured to the broken window. "I could leave right now. Find another body. Start over. You'd spend years hunting me, if you survived the night. But I'm offering you a shortcut. A direct line to the people who killed you."

"Why would you help me?"

"Because I'm tired." For a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Genuine exhaustion. "I've been running for seventeen years. I've worn so many faces I've forgotten my own. I want to rest. But I don't want to be erased. I don't want to become a blank slate for the judges to reprogram."

"That's not what they—"

"Yes it is. Don't lie to me. I've seen what happens to souls who return to Diyu. They get processed. Cleaned. Reborn as blank pages. Everything they were, everything they did, everything they loved—gone." She shook her head. "I'd rather be destroyed."

Jiang Chen understood.

He'd felt the same way, three weeks ago, strapped to that table. He'd accepted oblivion because he thought he deserved it. But now he knew he didn't. Someone had stolen his life, his death, his legacy.

"You want a deal," he said slowly.

"I want a compromise. You don't drag me back. I don't run. We work together."

"For how long?"

"Until you find your answers. Then I'll go willingly. I'll face the judges. I'll tell them everything I know. If they decide to erase me, so be it. At least I'll have done something meaningful."

It was a trap. It had to be a trap. Everything about this woman screamed manipulation.

But she was also right. He couldn't stop her. If she ran, he'd never catch her. He was one soul reaper against a ghost who'd killed two of his predecessors. He was outmatched, outclassed, out-experienced.

He needed help.

"Fine," he said. "But we do this my way."

"Name your terms."

"You're coming with me to meet someone. Another soul reaper. She's older, more experienced. If she agrees to the arrangement, I'll go along with it."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then you run, and I hunt you."

She considered this, tilting her head like a bird. "Acceptable. But if she tries to bind me, I'll kill her. And you."

"You won't have the chance."

He pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked from the fight, but it still worked. He dialed the number he'd memorized from his training.

It rang three times.

"Zhao Min," a voice said. Female. Sharp. "This better be important. I'm in the middle of—"

"I need help."

Silence.

"Who is this?"

"Jiang Chen. The new soul reaper. The one who—"

"I know who you are. Why are you calling me?"

"Because I caught a ghost. A powerful one. She's killed two of us. I can't handle her alone."

Another silence. Longer this time.

"Where are you?"

He gave her the address.

"Don't move. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The line went dead.

Jiang Chen pocketed the phone. The ghost watched him, amused.

"She sounds nice."

"She's terrifying."

"Good. I like terrifying people. They're honest about what they are."

She drifted to the corner, where the couple still huddled. They flinched as she approached.

"Don't worry," she said. "I won't hurt you. I'm done hurting people for now." She looked back at Jiang Chen. "Though I make no promises about the future."

Jiang Chen sat down, his back against a display case. His chest still throbbed where she'd clawed him. Blood had soaked through his shirt, staining the floor.

"You need to heal that," she said.

"I'll live."

"Will you?" She smiled. "That's the question, isn't it? What exactly are you, Jiang Chen? Alive enough to walk among the living. Dead enough to see the dead. But where's the line? When does one become the other?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. But I'm curious to find out."

---

Twenty minutes passed like hours.

Zhao Min arrived on a motorcycle, killing the engine outside the shop. She walked in wearing leather pants and a jacket, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked at the destruction—the shattered glass, the broken furniture, the old woman's body in the corner—and sighed.

"You've been busy."

"It wasn't my fault."

"It never is." She looked at the ghost. "You're the Debt Collector."

"I've been called worse."

"I've heard stories about you. Thirty-two confirmed possessions. Seventeen stolen identities. Two dead soul reapers." Zhao Min's hand drifted to her belt, where a staff similar to Jiang Chen's hung. "You're quite the legend."

"I try."

"And now you want to work with us."

"Temporarily. Until your apprentice gets his answers."

Zhao Min looked at Jiang Chen. "What answers?"

"She knows who framed me. She can prove it."

"And you believe her?"

"She showed me my trial. She knew details I'd never told anyone."

"That's impressive." Zhao Min didn't sound impressed. "But possession isn't mind reading. She could have extracted those details from your own memories and reconstructed them. It's a common trick."

The ghost laughed. "Sharp. I like her."

"I'm not trying to be liked." Zhao Min stepped closer. "I'm trying to decide whether to kill you or not."

"You can't kill me. I'm already dead."

"Don't be pedantic. You know what I mean."

The ghost's amusement faded. "Yes. I know."

Zhao Min studied her for a long moment. Then she turned to Jiang Chen.

"Her soul is unstable. I can see the cracks. She's been jumping bodies for too long without proper anchoring. Another year, maybe two, and she'll dissolve on her own."

"That's not—"

"It's the truth," the ghost interrupted. "I told you. I'm tired. I don't have much time left. That's why I'm willing to negotiate."

Zhao Min nodded slowly. "So this is a deathbed confession."

"Something like that."

"Fine." Zhao Min pulled out a small jade seal, engraved with characters Jiang Chen couldn't read. "I'll bind you. Not to Diyu, but to us. You stay within a hundred meters of Jiang Chen at all times. You don't possess anyone without my permission. You answer all questions truthfully."

"And in return?"

"We'll hear you out. If your information leads to justice, I'll personally advocate for a lighter sentence. Maybe a memory wipe instead of full erasure."

"That's not—"

"It's the best offer you'll get. Take it or leave it."

The ghost looked at the seal. Her form flickered, uncertainty bleeding through.

"Fine," she said. "