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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 1: Bat
Thousands of Night Bats burst forth from my fingertips, scattering in all directions. The black clothing and pants were the natural colors of these Night Bats. My grandfather didn't exist; he was merely a manifestation made up of countless Night Bats—his head, facial features, shoulders, chest, and legs. It was an unbelievable reality. I gazed in terror at the room filled with dark Night Bats and screamed, jolting awake with a start.
I gasped for breath, instinctively raising my hand, my fingers long and intact. I slightly leaned forward to turn on the light and checked the time: three-thirty in the morning. Another nightmare? It was possible that my scream had startled Fat. Just as I sat up without getting out of bed, I heard hurried footsteps approaching. Then he barged in without knocking, asking, "Brother Qi, were you calling me?"
"Did I call you?"
Fat scratched his head, looking confused. "It seems like you did, but maybe you didn't."
I thought of my grandfather and quickly asked, "Has anything strange happened since the door to the dark room was opened?"
"The mechanism in the dark room is broken. Grandpa's coffin is empty; it seems like there was a cat making a racket in there, but I chased it away."
"A cat? When did that happen?"
Fat recalled, "You called me to look for a house at Haunted House..." but then shook his head dismissively. "No, it was after I returned from the hospital. I couldn't reach you; Rongrong was asking around about you and Qin Jian's whereabouts. Right, it was the afternoon of the twenty-fourth when I got back to the Funeral Home and heard the cat screaming loudly. I went in and used a stick to chase it away."
There have always been tales of Cat Ghosts throughout history. But those were just stories; throughout my life, even with my grandfather around, I had never witnessed anything related to Cat Ghosts. However, this incident felt ominous—my nightmare seemed to foreshadow something about to happen.
"Forget everything else; let's check the dark room."
Due to Li Gui's interference, the door to the dark room couldn't close properly. Damn that Li Gui! I cursed inwardly; only by finding Li Gui's lair could I eradicate this problem once and for all. This pent-up frustration weighed heavily on my chest as I clenched my fists and then quietly released them.
As we entered the dark room, an unavoidable chill enveloped us. The coffin lay desolate in its place; my grandfather's Spirit Tablet had been newly added after I drove away Li Gui. The portrait was an empty frame, and in this atmosphere, staring at that blank frame felt unsettling.
Fat stood silently behind me.
I knew he was scared; I could even hear the sound of him gulping nervously, clear as day in my ears.
“If you’re scared, just go outside.”
“Brother Qi, I’m not scared, I’m just nervous. That empty picture frame makes me uncomfortable.”
“What can we do? Grandpa never liked taking photos in his life. He always said that taking pictures captures the soul. Without photos, naturally, there are no portraits.”
Fat turned his head away, unable to look at the empty frame, and muttered, “Okay, Brother Qi, I’ll go do something else.” As Fat left, I carefully inspected the coffin. Just then, I heard Fat’s voice from outside: “Brother Qi, we have a customer.”
Taking orders during the Ghost Festival is quite absurd.
I stepped outside but didn’t see any customers. Instead, I found Fat surrounded by several people. Among them was a tall guy—the one who had gone on a blind date with Han Mi. It was clear to me that this group wasn’t here to place an order; they were here to cause trouble.
Fat was being restrained by several strong men, struggling futilely. Just as he was about to shout again under their threats, I appeared at the doorway and shouted sternly, “Let him go.”
My appearance undoubtedly gave Fat some courage. He struggled fiercely and shouted, “Brother Qi told you to let him go! You should know he’s an eighth-degree black belt in Judo!”
I thought to myself, Fat, are you trying to get us killed?
Yes, usually I would advise him to bluff and act tough when facing a strong opponent; it’s best if it intimidates them without actually scaring them too much. But now I was facing not just any opponent; these were clearly thugs hired by that rich second-generation heir.
One of the ruffians looked at me as I stepped out of the room and asked, “Are you Ma Qi?”
"Yes, I am Ma Qi. What's up? Did your fathers die or did your mothers kick the bucket? Are you here to place an order this early?"
"Bah! You old man, your parents are the ones who are dead."
"Sorry, if you're going to fight, make it quick. I'm busy, and let's not talk about parents; that just hurts our pride."
A few people looked confused, and the fat one unnecessarily added, "My Brother Qi has no parents."
"No parents? Does that mean you're some kind of bastard? Or maybe you were born from a rock..." I lost patience with his nonsense and threw a punch, instantly silencing the Birdman.
But my opponent wasn't any pushover. My strike acted like a fuse, igniting a powder keg.
With a collective shout, they moved in aggressively to surround me.
I knew a fierce battle was unavoidable. How could those rich folks afford to lose face? I had taken Han Mi away in front of many people. Although I knew he would seek revenge, I didn't expect it to come so quickly.
We exchanged blows, fists flying with force. I dodged left and right, narrowly avoiding several punches that grazed my skin.
The fat guy watched in a dizzying panic. He was sure I would lose and started jumping around, cursing at them: "You cowards! Ganging up on one person isn't glorious at all! How about one-on-one?"
I found his shouting annoying at first, but surprisingly, it had an effect.
The group of Birdmen actually paused, their eyes flashing with disdain as they formed a circle to decide who would go first.
Damn it! This is an insult. Do they think Ma Qi is someone who can't take a hit? They were still debating who should go first. What kind of reward do they think there is for winning the first round? Am I just here for their gambling games?
I couldn't help myself; I couldn't wait for them to decide who would go first. I threw a provocative punch at a seemingly clumsy Birdman who looked like a fat pig.
Bang! The punch landed, and he immediately crouched down, covering his jaw, unable to let out even a squeak for quite some time.
The opponent never expected me to have the guts to provoke him a second time. One of them clenched his fist, just like foreigners do in a boxing match against Chinese opponents, always acting overconfident, flexing their muscles, and trying to intimidate with exaggerated gestures.
Seeing the fist coming, I swiftly dodged to the side and countered with a powerful strike—there was a dull thud as my fist connected. The one who got hit was taken aback but didn’t retreat an inch. Instead, he charged forward again, throwing a left punch while cursing, “Alpaca, stealing my brother’s woman, I’ll kill you…”
I quickly pulled out a Silencing Talisman and, as he opened his mouth to speak, I forcefully shoved it into his mouth before he could react. Then I held up his chin with both hands, forcing him to close his mouth for a few seconds until he swallowed the Silencing Talisman.
With the Silencing Talisman in his stomach, Birdman couldn’t utter a word; he opened his mouth but no sound came out. He was terrified and lost his will to fight, retreating hurriedly and gesturing with his hands in confusion about what I had just made him eat.
Seeing me win the first round, the fat guy shouted excitedly, “Damn! Brother Qi, how can you be so strong?”
“Strong my ass, call the police.” Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to be this formidable! Just moments ago, Birdman, who had been watching from the sidelines, couldn’t take it anymore. Frustrated and impatient to see who would win or lose, he charged in without a second thought.
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