Hospitals are places steeped in profound negative energy. Wandering spirits trapped here slowly lose themselves, turning into ghosts. If resentment or hatred festers within, they may become vengeful ghosts—or even Malevolent Ghosts—though this doesn’t strictly dictate their power level.
Even among ghosts, strength varies. The deeper the grudge, the more spirits consumed, the stronger they grow. For example, when one Malevolent Ghost devours another, it gains not only power but also inherits the victim’s lingering hatred.
This was what the book described. Yet Dr. Chen had flipped through every page and found zero cases of a Malevolent Ghost falling for a human. At most, there were tales of unfinished love—newly departed souls lingering near loved ones, unwilling to fade.
“Am I the exception?” Dr. Chen mused. “If a book ever gets written, my story has to be in it.”
After thoroughly checking everything on the stone-faced man, Dr. Chen agreed to help him leave the psychiatric hospital and reincarnate. He made no promises of protection—only that the ghost could follow him.
“What’s inside the director’s office?” Dr. Chen pushed the door open and activated his glow stick. Its soft light revealed a ten-square-meter room: a plain desk centered, a filing cabinet beside it. The once-tended potted plant had withered yellow; decay hung thick in the air. Dr. Chen paused at the threshold, scanning—nothing unusual.
“I was keeping watch outside,” Stone-Face recounted. “After those two entered, the door slammed shut. I didn’t know what happened. Later, they burst out in panic, clutching a file. Just as I stepped forward to speak—something grabbed my throat.”
As he spoke, Stone-Face’s blank expression twisted into fury, growing grotesque and terrifying. Bloodshot eyes bulged, rage simmering on the edge of madness.
“Wife…” Dr. Chen began.
“Argh!!! I’m fine! Don’t call me ‘Wife’!” Stone-Face’s snarl froze instantly, replaced by sheer panic.
“Huh. Ghosthood cured your stone face,” Dr. Chen remarked with a glance. “Expressions are *very* lively now.” He stepped inside first.
Snap! The door slammed shut the moment he crossed the threshold. Even braced for it, Dr. Chen flinched. Silence swallowed the room again.
“Their failure to save you—is that why you hate them?”
“Beware the bespectacled girl! Brother Li could’ve saved me, but that bitch dragged him off! Wouldn’t risk a thing! And I called her a comrade…”
“Hmph.” Dr. Chen gave a cold laugh, turned away, and examined the desk. Books lay disturbed—clearly searched by the glasses-wearing girl’s group earlier. Mostly medical reports and psychology texts.
Creak… A faint sound came from the filing cabinet—like nails scraping wood.
“No way… Someone stuffed inside?” The cabinet stood one meter tall, five drawers. To fit a person? Only if chopped into five equal parts.
Holy crap… A five-part Malevolent Ghost?!
“Opportunity hides in danger! I know where the room’s key item is.”
Instead of retreating, Dr. Chen advanced. Uncharacteristically, he stowed the wrench and hammer and pulled out the cordless drill for the first time. Weak on metal, but wood? Doable. If the wrench and jar together fought spirits, this drill should work too. A smirk curled his lips as he turned to Stone-Face.
“Come here.”
“What’re you plotting? That sneaky look again!”
“Wife…”
“Fine! Don’t say it!” Stone-Face shuddered at the drill—but feared the thing on his head more. Gritting his teeth, he shuffled closer.
“Heh heh heh…”
With a wicked grin, Dr. Chen switched on the drill and plunged it straight into Stone-Face’s arm—without a word.
