Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 443 Ghost Catcher 4

Wang Feng suddenly opened his eyes, his chest heaving violently due to heavy breathing.

His eyes instantly caught the package on the ground - only a small charred end of the fuse remained, with no signs of subsequent burning. The package itself lay there quietly, like a silent brick. It looked... incomparably harmless.

"Control it! Quick!!"

The experienced commander was the first to react, and his sharp command broke the silence like tearing a frozen canvas.

"Control them! Everyone, get down and don't move!"

"Disarm them! Capture them!"

"Explosive bomb disposal! Quick! Secure the scene!"

The police officers came to their senses and rushed towards the two stunned gangsters like tigers descending from the mountains, roaring.

The first gangster with a hunting rifle had not yet recovered from the shock of the barrier and the shock of his accomplice's "failure" when he was pinned to the ground by several police officers, with the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against the back of his head.

The other gangster who threw the bomb had a face full of confusion and madness. After a few seconds of futile resistance, he was quickly subdued. The heavy knees made it difficult for him to breathe, and he could only roar unwillingly.

The dud bomb that caused him to fail was carefully and nervously removed by two well-trained bomb disposal officers using special equipment in preparation for subsequent handling.

The real serious criminal "Black Dog" was pinned to the ground by the quick-reacting police officers at the beginning of the chaos. He was handcuffed and shackled. He stopped struggling at this moment, but just stared at the open collar of Wang Feng's chest with his sinister eyes wide open - there was still a faint trace of fine gray.

His eyes were no longer filled with pure ferocity, but a mixture of fear, confusion, and a hint of... something deeper that Wang Feng could not understand.

There was still chaos on the platform, passengers were being evacuated, injured people were being rescued, and subsequent police reinforcements arrived quickly, and the light of police lights covered everything.

But Wang Feng seemed to be in another world. The hustle and bustle around him seemed to be separated by thick glass.

He was still half-kneeling stiffly on the ground, his fingers unconsciously twisting the soft talisman ash on the lining of his police uniform.

The touch of the cold ashes formed a sharp contrast with the sacred and tough golden barrier that had just protected the heart.

Faith... shattered.

That gunshot was the beginning.

This dud bomb is confirmed.

It wasn't a fluke! It wasn't a jam! It wasn't a crudely made failure! (He recognized the characteristics of this crude yet deadly improvisation.) It just... didn't work.

In a way that completely defies common sense of physics, when the fuse burned to the very end, it strangely and forcibly went out.

His gaze passed over the chaotic crowd and once again turned to the seat that had long been empty. Yun Chu's figure disappeared, leaving only a mystery.

The young woman in the blue Taoist robe had not only given a life-saving talisman, but before she left, or rather, while she was causing the chaos, she had also calmly and effortlessly extinguished a greater disaster in the dark, unknown to anyone.

Silent and traceless, yet extremely powerful.

Wang Feng took a deep breath, and the air mixed with dirt, smoke, sweat and that little bit of familiar sandalwood scent that had almost disappeared rushed into his nostrils.

The heart is no longer beating wildly because of physiological fear, but is shaking violently because cognition has been completely overturned.

The lead balls on the ground are visible evidence.

The extinct bomb was irrefutable evidence.

The dull pain in the chest and the ashes on the fingertips are the marks of personal experience.

The cold, hard, materialistic worldview he had built up throughout his career had now been blasted open with a huge gap. The cold wind poured in through the gap, bringing with it an unprecedented awe and trembling from the unknown, as well as a heavy feeling of being chosen by fate.

The mission...isn't over yet.

What he owed that girl was far more than just a life.

The other side hidden beneath the surface of the world, like the thick and pungent smoke on the platform, has irresistibly and brutally enveloped his future.

He stood up slowly, his eyes sweeping over his busy colleagues, the frightened passengers, the completely controlled gangster, and finally landing on the silent, ironic dud bomb on the ground.

The fire in the depths of his eyes was no longer simply anger or the determination brought about by duty, but a mixture of shock, desire to explore, and an unquenchable strange flame that had just been ignited for a vast unknown world.

The new reality was cruel and bizarre, and he had to start facing it immediately.

At this time, Yun Chu was very happy. With just a simple spell, he completed the task of saving fifty people.

not bad!

Yun Chu randomly found a hotel to stay in. The musty smell in the room was mixed with the faint scent of vanishing cream. Yun Chu found a 1972 copy of "Red Flag" magazine in the drawer of the bedside table.

Turning over the yellowed pages, there was a paper airplane made of candy wrapper - "Mom and Dad will be back tomorrow" was written in pencil on the wing, but the handwriting had been rubbed so many times that it was almost gone.

Yun Chu took a quick glance and the corners of his mouth rose slightly.

At three in the morning, the copper faucet in the bathroom suddenly turned on its own. A hopscotch grid appeared on the mirror, and a small transparent foot stepped precisely on each square.

"Sister, can you sing 'The East is Red'?" A childish voice came from the direction of the bathroom.

"No, come out and sing for me."

The little ghost in the mirror looked at Yun Chu in surprise.

The little feet hanging in the mirror swayed, and water droplets dripped down the illusory ankles, spreading deeper gray marks on the water-stained tiles.

"You... can see me?" The kid's voice was stuck between childishness and hoarseness, like an old, out-of-tune radio. "They can't see me."

Yun Chu rested her fingertips on the edge of the cool sink. Remaining water droplets stubbornly gathered in the gap between the tightly closed cross-valve of the faucet. "I happened to see a little bit." She raised her eyes, her gaze piercing the misty water vapor. "Tell me, how did you sing yourself into the mirror?"

The dancing grids on the mirror darkened for a moment.

The kid's face was pressed against the cold glass, his skin was an almost transparent blue-gray color, the collar of his floral blouse was askew, and his wet bangs were stuck to his forehead. The only thing that was bright was his eyes - there was no resentment, only a blankness that was in the eyes of a child who was innocent of the world but had been washed away by the long passage of time.

"It's... the cooling pool in the boiler room." She scratched the mirror with her small fingers. "Winter of 1972, the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, Little New Year."

When the childish voice spoke of the years, there was a strange sense of absurdity. "Outside the boiler room... there was a huge piece of shiny ice. They poured water on the ice, and each layer froze..."

The little girl's voice lowered, then suddenly rose with a hint of pride, "My father is a model worker in the workshop! He has a big red flower on the honor roll! Mom went to the city for a meeting to receive the certificate..."

Yun Chu's eyes swept over the old-fashioned, cross-shaped hot and cold water switch above the mirror, rusted and covered in scale. "Have you seen the Model Worker Award certificate?" she said softly, each word like an ice cube dropped into a deep well. "Whose name is it?"

The air suddenly became quiet, and the sound of the dripping faucet was amplified infinitely. Dong... Dong... Dong...

The little ghost in the mirror suddenly stiffened.