amaotonovel Chapter 4227 Possession by Evil Spirits (7)
Chapter 4227 Possession by Evil Spirits (7)
Chapter 4227 Possession by an Evil Spirit (Part 7)
“Back off!!!”
As Bruce and Kent pondered the events leading up to this, a roar came from behind them. The two instinctively flinched to the sides. In the brief moment they turned, they saw the agent raise his gun with both hands, shoulder-width apart, aiming slightly to the side.
"boom!"
"boom!"
"boom!"
Two shots to the body and one to the head. Due to the close distance and the relatively large caliber of the pistol, the impact of the bullets caused the corpse, which had just sat up, to fall back down with a "thud."
Bruce turned to look at the agent. Although he already knew the agent had a gun, for some reason, Bruce felt that this was the real Bruce when he fired the shot. It was hard to say whether those three shots carried anger over the long, drawn-out dialogue that had been present since the beginning of the story.
But the ordeal did not end there. This attack seemed to enrage the evil spirit controlling the body. It began to rise in a manner that completely defied the laws of physics: its body suddenly jerked upwards from the center, its limbs flailing wildly in the air, and a low, hoarse roar emanating from its throat.
As the strange phenomenon occurred, darkness suddenly descended upon the town. The already dimly lit warehouse became even darker, almost pitch black. This rendered virtually all long-range weapons ineffective, as they lacked night vision goggles. With visibility less than two meters, accurate aiming was impossible.
The detective snorted coldly. He took out a lighter from his pocket, lit it, and threw it in one direction.
Kent was still a little confused, but Bruce had already remembered: that was where the pile of fabric from the outer shed had been stored. The amount of dust in the warehouse and the condition of the corpses showed just how dry it was. The fabric had been there for so long that all the moisture had evaporated; it would ignite at the slightest touch.
It started as a small spark, then spread with lightning speed across the entire fabric. As the fire grew stronger, the wood supporting the shed also caught fire. The entire storage area was engulfed in flames.
The three men quickly retreated, trying to escape through the warehouse door. But sure enough, with a "bang," the warehouse door slammed shut, and it was firmly shut. The once fragile, rotten wood had become harder than any alloy. The strongest, Kent, tried to smash it, but to no avail.
"Go through the window," the agent said.
On the right rear side, where the fire was most intense, was a window, long since devoid of glass. The flames ignited the wooden strips sealing the window; one side cracked and fell down, revealing a narrow opening in the wall just large enough for one person to pass through. The agent rushed forward first. But just as he was about to dash out, Bruce shouted, "Watch out!!!"
"Squeak—Bang!!!"
The structure atop the wooden building appeared to be completely rotten; a massive beam crashed down in front of the agent. Had Bruce not warned him, the agent would likely have been crushed under the beam.
The agent cursed, but quickly turned and rushed towards another window. Bruce and Kent had also arrived by then; the flames completely blocked their escape route. Thick smoke rose, and the entire wooden house teetered on the brink of collapse.
"Here." A voice came from behind the window.
With a loud bang, the wooden strips sealing the window shattered completely. The detective spotted the pursuer. Just as he was about to rush over, a dark figure crookedly blocked the window—it was the clown-like desiccated corpse that had suddenly stood up.
The agent took a deep breath. So you're not letting me leave?!
Before he could do anything, the hunter outside suddenly leaned half his body in through the window, grabbed the clown's neck tightly, pulled him backward, and dragged him out of the window.
The clown clung to the window frame, refusing to leave. But it's important to understand that the weaker the person, the stronger they become. The Hunter, already injured and bleeding, and running a fever, was practically at his peak strength. Even if he deliberately restrained himself from using too much force, dragging a dried-up corpse wouldn't be difficult for him.
The mummified corpse, like a victim in a horror movie, was forcibly dragged away from behind the window by an unknown force. The agent took the opportunity to jump out as well. Bruce and Kent followed closely behind, but Kent, who was leaving last, saw that the Joker, who had just been dragged out, had dropped something on the ground. He instinctively bent down to pick it up, and only when he looked down did he see: it was a small wooden mallet.
The two rushed out of the burning warehouse. Looking back, the entire warehouse had vanished in the flames. The wooden structure had completely collapsed. After this fire, there would probably be nothing left.
Kent pulled out what he had just found. Bruce glanced at it and said, "This is for clown performances. During a clown show, the performer takes out a scare box, opens it, pretends to be startled, and then uses this to hit the head of the doll inside..."
"how do you know?"
“I’ve seen similar performances before.” Bruce gave him a look. The Joker performs for him eight hundred times a day, how could he possibly know?
Bruce took the mallet from him. He had intended to examine the details, but the instant he touched the mallet, he suddenly saw a flashback of memory.
"Little Amy, look what Daddy brought you! Your favorite bunny doll! Your old one got worn out, so I bought you a new one."
A man's voice echoed in his ears. And in his field of vision, a little girl of three or four years old came running up, letting out a shrill scream and exclaiming, "Oh my god, really?! I have a new toy?! Daddy, you're amazing!!!"
"Daddy's going on tour again next month. When Daddy's not home, you have to help Mommy and take good care of your little brother and sister, okay?" The man patted the little girl's head.
The little girl looked up at him obediently, but quickly pouted and said, "Why do we have to go again? You've only been back for a short while. Can't we stay this time?"
“That won’t do,” the man said patiently. “This time we’re going on a tour to the East Coast, visiting many big cities. Daddy will buy Amy lots of new toys then, okay?”
"Okay, it's settled then!" The little girl laughed and jumped into the man's arms.
In the man's view, the door to a bedroom at the far end of the living room slowly opened a crack. Inside was an intense, impenetrable darkness.
Bruce snapped back to reality. Kent looked at him with concern and asked, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
“No, I’m fine,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “I think I just saw the clown’s memories.”
"Memory?!" Kent exclaimed in surprise. "So there really are ghosts?!"
Bruce nodded. He looked back at the still-burning warehouse, briefly recounted what he had seen in his hallucination to Kent, and then said, "The little girl looked unfamiliar; she wasn't anyone we've ever met. If this circus closed down in the last century, what we're seeing might be the memory of someone from a long time ago."
“I have a question,” Kent said. “The man said his daughter would help look after his younger siblings, but you said the little girl wasn’t very old, maybe only three or four. His mother had three children in three years?”
“Perhaps the last pregnancy will be twins,” Bruce said. “Two pregnancies in three years are medically possible, and three pregnancies in four years are not entirely impossible, but they would be very harmful to the mother.”
“My God, three children in four years, doesn’t that mean she’s constantly pregnant and giving birth?” Kent pursed his lips, looking distressed. “And this man is a circus performer, he’s rarely home, so the mother will have to take care of herself all by herself.”
“Perhaps her mother has other relatives,” Bruce said. “Let’s find a place to settle down first. There are too few clues right now, and there’s still a long way to go.”
On the other side, after the mummified corpse was dragged out of the house by the hunters, it seemed to have lost its strength and lay there motionless, like an ordinary corpse.
The detective searched the body but found nothing, so he removed the clothes and began to examine the cause of death.
Strangely, the body had no external injuries, meaning it was not killed by external force; the spine was not dislocated, there were no signs of struggle, so it was not suffocation; and there were no signs of drowning, so it did not appear to have drowned.
"Could it be poisoning?" The detective examined it carefully. However, due to its great age, the mummy's organs had long since disappeared, and its skin was dry and brittle, making it impossible to discern anything.
If we tentatively conclude that he was poisoned, then who poisoned him? It couldn't have been Batman, could it?
Although they found nothing, the agents were not discouraged. After all, at least this incident confirmed that there were indeed paranormal phenomena in the dungeon, and that it wasn't just people playing tricks.
This situation is both good and bad. If it's just humans playing tricks, it's easy to resolve with force, but it's much harder to unravel the complex secrets behind it, because human hearts are unpredictable, and anyone could do this for any reason, making the investigation very difficult.
If it's a ghost, while physical resistance is difficult, the motives and clues would be much simpler. There are two types of ghosts in this world: those seeking revenge with a specific purpose, and those committing aimless slaughter. Once we find out how this ghost was formed and what it wants to do, the mystery will be solved.
Finding nothing after searching the body, the two Schillers decided to return immediately to Aunt Kane's house. As soon as they entered, they saw Peter and Kate sitting silently at the dining table.
"What's wrong with you?" the agent asked.
Both of them shook their heads. Peter opened his mouth, but said nothing. He sighed and said, "There's no hospital in this town, and besides, my wound doesn't hurt much anymore. Let's eat first."
Kate didn't argue anymore. They stood up from the table and headed to the kitchen. The agent whispered to the hunter, "Go back and rest for a while. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
The hunter nodded. His reaction clearly showed that his actions hadn't cost him any health. This meant he hadn't used any extraordinary strength. In other words, he hadn't exerted much effort when pulling the mummified corpse out.
This indirectly suggests that the mummified corpse was definitely not a true evil spirit; otherwise, it would be far beyond the capabilities of ordinary forces to confront directly. However, what role did this man who died in the warehouse play in this series of events?
Just as he was thinking, he suddenly saw a figure standing at the back door. He looked up and saw it was Linda, holding something that looked like a fishing rod. So he walked over and said, "You're done so quickly?"
Linda didn't say anything, but turned and led him into the garage. The agent followed behind her, and the two walked to the workshop.