Erreur Yin et Yang

Chapitre 22

Given the current situation, our journey is fraught with peril. I suggest that Shirley Yang take advantage of this free time to spend a lot of money to invite a sorcerer to assist us. At the very least, we can learn the basics of sorcery, so that if we run into trouble, we won't be left wondering how we died.

Shirley Yang asked her newly hired local guide, Agan, to inquire around and finally contacted the most famous local sorcerer in the Bangkok countryside, saying he would take us there to consult him.

Shirley Yang was worried that if we left, the mysterious old woman might come looking for us, and we would miss a good opportunity to make contact. Before we left, she repeatedly instructed the hotel manager to keep track of the contact information of anyone who stayed behind.

Guided by our local guide, Agan, the three of us boarded an old military jeep from the 1970s and sped out of Bangkok, around the Chao Phraya River, and drove along vast farmlands toward the countryside.

Thailand's economy is primarily based on agricultural income. Fields of rice, cassava, corn, and sugarcane ripple in the wind. If it weren't for our guide, Agan, and driver whispering in Thai, a language no one could understand, I would have truly felt like I had returned to a long-lost rural area in China.

About a two-hour drive from the city, the jeep turned into the countryside along a country road. Lush tropical trees such as palms and bananas lined the roadside, casting dappled green shadows on our faces.

The village was quiet, mostly consisting of simple thatched huts and mud houses. Occasionally, a group or two of thin, pale-faced children would run out at the sound of the car, staring blankly at us. Our guide, Agan, scattered handfuls of snacks and candies we had bought in Bangkok, watching with amusement as the children frantically scrambled for them behind the car. Agan explained that this was to avoid attracting unnecessary curses and trouble. The local inhabitants were quite xenophobic, traditionally living in self-sufficiency and dividing their land, and were generally hostile to uninvited guests.

We thought we were almost at our destination, but the jeep kept driving through two or three villages without stopping at all.

I looked around; it was deathly silent. Trees of varying heights rustled their large leaves, surrounding us like strange figures. Further ahead was a long, sloping mountain road; it seemed the driver was heading uphill. The afternoon sun, around five or six o'clock, had already sunk behind the mountains, and a cool breeze blew in, creating an eerie atmosphere that involuntarily brought to mind chilling legends of black magic. A chill began to run through me.

I glanced at my companions. Our local guide, Agan, was in his forties, in his prime, with dark skin and a robust physique. The driver was the same build. They wouldn't be up to any ulterior motives, nor would they be tempted by money to lure us foreigners to the wilderness to rob and kill us.

I secretly kicked the drowsy fat guy, but to my surprise, he was startled, quickly sat up, and said, "Hey, are we there yet? Are we there?"

This attracted the attention of the two Thai men ahead, who turned to look at us, making me secretly embarrassed. Our guide, Agan, glanced at us and smiled, then said something in English to Shirley Yang, who was nervously looking ahead. Shirley Yang turned to me and Fatty and said that Agan had said the hillside ahead was the summit.

As the sun faded into the night, our old jeep came to a stop on a dark, mountain path.

Volume Two: The Four Kingdoms Campaign, Chapter Forty-Eight: The Old Corpse in the Mountain Village One Night

Our guide, Agan, jumped out of the vehicle first and waved for us to get out and leave. The three of us stood behind him, and the jeep driver turned the car around and drove off down the hillside without a word. I cautiously asked Shirley Yang what was going on.

Ah Gan explained that it was too late, so they would stay at the old sorcerer's place for the night, and wait for the jeep to go back to town for repairs. He would then come to pick them up tomorrow morning.

As he spoke, he shouldered our luggage and led the way into the woods on the right side of the hillside. Near the edge of the woods, he suddenly stopped, his face grave as he looked at us and gave Shirley Yang some instructions. Shirley Yang turned back and repeatedly warned us that once we entered the woods, we were entering the territory of the indigenous village. She demanded that we be extremely careful, not looking where we shouldn't, not shouting where we shouldn't, and not moving where we shouldn't. She said the woods were shrouded in black magic, and as long as we obediently followed our guide, Agan, we would be fine. She stressed that we must not step outside the woodland path, otherwise, if one of us got into trouble, everyone would suffer.

The night was dark, and Agan didn't usually carry a flashlight, so we had no choice but to follow him, eyes wide open, into the dark woods before us. A whitish path wound its way forward, and we walked without looking to the side. Apart from the occasional dim, yellowish light in the depths of the woods, we couldn't see a soul in sight. In midsummer, there was no chirping of insects or dancing fireflies, which was truly unusual; the eerie atmosphere sent chills down our spines.

Although I knew that Agan had said it was a sparsely populated mountain village, I still couldn't help but associate it with zombies and giant zongzi. Maybe we've become a bit neurotic from tomb raiding. I rubbed my cold face and shook my head with a wry smile.

We walked silently along the winding forest path, afraid of stepping off the road, walking with our hands on our hands and feet, making our footsteps exceptionally light.

I walked for an unknown amount of time in the darkness. A cold, eerie wind blew past my ears. I turned my head and suddenly saw a ghostly face emerge from behind a tree by the roadside. Its mouth was wide open, a long tongue was sticking out, and its eyes were bleeding as it stared at me. It followed us step by step behind the tree. When I looked at it, it seemed to be giving me a sinister, eerie smile.

I was terrified and about to scream when I suddenly remembered what our guide, Agan, had said. Suppressing my fear, I walked forward nonchalantly. As I walked, I encouraged myself: "Hey, you little brat, do you know what I do? I've been a soldier, carried a gun, killed people, raided tombs, and even criticized those bastards and monsters of the Gang of Four. I've been scared since I was a kid. You think I'm afraid of you? Hmph, not a chance!"

As I was thinking about it, I couldn't help but chuckle at myself.

I forced a laugh and looked around. Even the fat guy behind me was just walking briskly with his head down; everyone seemed oblivious to what had happened. I thought, "Hey, I'm so damn unlucky. Why did I have to be able to see ghosts all of a sudden and be the only one to run into one?"

The more I thought about it, the more interesting it became. I tilted my head and glanced at it, then on a whim, I winked at the ghost head and muttered to myself, "Damn it, what can you do to me? I saw you, so what?"

The ghostly head gave a sinister laugh, then suddenly tossed its head, instantly transforming into three ghostly faces that chased after us. One head with three white faces spun around and floated forward. Those dead faces, neither male nor female, were extremely bizarre, making me feel a chill run down my spine and break out in a cold sweat.

But upon seeing this, I felt relieved. I thought to myself: Who the hell are you trying to fool? On my way to Thailand, I checked relevant religious materials, and apart from Brahma, the four-faced Buddha of Hinduism, no one is qualified to display three large faces. This exposes your puppet nature of false advertising. This kind of petty trick is like a chicken pissing on firewood—it's a piece of cake (it's wet), I can't even be bothered to glance at it.

I turned back and followed the others briskly forward, never looking at it again. The three ghostly faces followed for a while, but seeing that no one was paying attention to them, they lost their energy and drifted into the depths of the woods, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

We walked through the dark forest, past a few thatched huts, and ahead, flames soared into the sky. On a vast open woodland, a large group of dancers with strangely shaped, clay-sculpted ghost masks appeared.

The dancers before me formed a large circle around the roaring fire, some standing, some crouching, some half-bent over, their faces covered with eerie, painted masks. Some held wooden mallets at an angle, others stretched out their arms in a sumo wrestling stance, some gripped sharp weapons, and still others wielded sickles and hoes. They stood motionless in bizarre poses, and the air seemed to freeze. Only the central fire flickered red, its pale yellow flames, about half a person's height, licking the pine firewood with a faint crackling sound.

Our guide, Agan, suddenly stopped us from going forward. He sat cross-legged on the ground, lowered his head, closed his eyes, and began chanting strange scriptures. Shirley Yang, Fatty, and I had no choice but to stand silently and observe what would happen.

After waiting for about ten minutes, we gradually became impatient. Suddenly, a dull drumbeat came from behind the tree opposite us, followed by rapid, urgent drumbeats, each one seemingly carrying an evil, soul-summoning force, striking heavily on each of our hearts, as if our heartbeats were also rapidly pounding in rhythm with the drumbeats.

I started breathing heavily, my heart pounding faster than I could bear. I quickly clutched my chest with my right hand, afraid it would leap out of my chest. Looking back, I saw Shirley Yang and Fatty in the same state, their faces flushed as they clutched their chests. Only Agan suddenly sprawled on all fours, prostrating himself face down in the dirt, and began chanting scriptures even louder.

Suddenly, figures scattered and leaped about on the ground. I looked up and saw that the group of ghost dancers had started dancing silently at some point. Their faces were covered with eerie masks, and their upper bodies were bare. They moved from side to side, rising and crouching like waves, waving their hands, resembling a traditional Chinese folk shamanistic dance, or perhaps a bunch of giant toads. I couldn't help but want to chuckle so hard I almost fell over.

Apart from the loud drumbeats, the only other sound in the open space was the rustling of the palm leaves draped around the lower bodies of the ghost dancers as they moved. The drumbeats grew faster and faster, and their dancing became increasingly frenzied, until the area was filled with ghostly figures, transforming into a chaotic world of demons dancing wildly.

The drumming stopped abruptly after about half an hour. The group of ghost dancers collapsed to the ground as if they had collapsed from exhaustion. Their ghost masks and weapons were thrown aside, and they were panting with white foam at their mouths. Some were even clutching their stomachs and groaning. No one got up for a long time.

By the light of the fire, I could see that these people, like our guide Agan, were all dark-skinned indigenous villagers, mostly adults, men and women, with men making up the majority.

Agan got up from the ground and explained to us in a low voice that this was the village's annual Demon Dance Festival, a grand event where all the men and women in the village who knew how to use black magic offered sacrifices to the ancestral deity of their religion, the God Tuga. Only by completing this annual offering ceremony with perfect sincerity could the black magic practitioners receive the holy water of exorcism bestowed by the deity through prayer to the sect leader, thus averting disasters for the coming year and protecting the indigenous villagers who skillfully used black magic from being devoured by the black magic within themselves, thus warding off the terrifying brain-eating calamity of ten thousand black poisons.

It turns out this is a traditional indigenous esoteric Buddhist village called the Ganan Sect, whose leader is the most respected and impartial sorcerer in the village. The village has historically been inhabited primarily by its native inhabitants and rarely accepts outsiders. Speaking of the Ganan Sect, our guide, Agan, gave a thumbs-up, stating that the Ganan Sect is one of the most prestigious and mysterious traditional sorcery sects in Thailand, and is renowned even throughout Southeast Asia.

So it seems that the large sum of Thai baht that Shirley Yang paid him along the way wasn't wasted. This guy does a pretty good job, and we probably didn't come for nothing.

After Agan finished speaking, he told us to wait where we were. We saw him follow the staggering native dancers into the darkness behind the trees, as if he were going to inform the high priest and ask for directions.

We stood at the edge of the open space, watching a group of villagers emerge from behind a tree—there seemed to be some kind of thatched hut there—without even glancing at us (they were completely different people after they came out than when they came in), and dispersed into the boundless darkness with great expressions, each of them walking lightly, as if they were about to go home and sleep for a year.

The fat man was getting impatient and was about to speak to me when our guide, Agan, emerged from the crowd and ran up to us. He bent down, picked up our luggage, and led us behind a tree.

Behind the trees was complete darkness. Agan took a few steps ahead, then ducked and disappeared behind a row of hedges. We followed and found ourselves in a cave with lights flickering deep inside. The lights went on and off, creating a very strange atmosphere within the cave.

Following the winding path into the inner cave, and turning a corner, the view suddenly opens up. In the huge cave hall, there is a dark, open coffin. In front of the coffin is a huge offering table, on which two oil candles flicker, illuminating the statues, offerings, and utensils on the table, as well as the mysterious and indistinct eerie face of the Thai elder behind the table.

Before I could even understand what was happening, a sudden ghostly wail erupted, and a small demon flew out of the coffin. Its face was bloodstained, its head enormous, its limbs and body smaller than its head, and it grinned wickedly, revealing a blood-red smile with its skin peeled off. This creature, covered in hair, resembled a peeled grapefruit as it flew towards me, its tiny hands waving as it soared through the air like an arrow.

It flew around me, Shirley Yang, and Fatty, laughing strangely. Suddenly it would come face to face with you, blowing a chilling wind in your face, making you gasp from the bottom of your heart and your legs tremble uncontrollably.

If we were in an ancient tomb, Fatty and I would have already smashed it down with an entrenching tool. But we can't do that now. This little devil is clearly raised by the old sorcerer from the Ganan sect who used black magic behind the case. Besides, we still need his help, so we can't act rashly.

The little devil circled around us several times before suddenly flying back to the old sorcerer's shoulder, waving its arms and legs and shrieking. Its eerie cries filled the entire cave, as if it were waiting for its master's command to devour the fresh flesh and blood of the newcomers.

I'd heard before that highly skilled Thai sorcerers could use their own life essence as a catalyst to raise ghosts using sorcery without being devoured by the evil spirits. This little ghost before me clearly originates from the infamous and mysterious Seven Fiends Corpse Ghost Raising Method.

It is said that the Seven Deadly Corpses Ghost-Raising Method requires a highly skilled male sorcerer to find a fresh female corpse that died at 7 PM on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, at the age of 49 (7 x 7 x 7), and that she was seven months pregnant at the time of death. The corpse is then placed in a secluded, shady location and soaked in five types of poisonous insects (snake, centipede, scorpion, spider, and toad). This process is repeated continuously for 49 days and nights until the unborn child is born automatically. If it is a boy, half the effort is complete; if it is a girl, the entire process is wasted. The ghost infant is then fed on the mother's corpse and the five poisonous insects for seven years until it takes shape, possessing human characteristics such as sight and smell, becoming treacherous, cunning, and terrifyingly evil.

Seven years later, the ghost infant took shape and became usable. Using the essence and blood of its master, a sorcerer, as a catalyst and fed with five kinds of Gu poison, it could travel a thousand miles at night and kill people in an instant. Moreover, this ghost infant was exceptionally vicious. Whatever its master pointed at, it would kill the person and devour their brains and heart before retreating. Once a mortal got involved, they would definitely die a gruesome death. The people of Thailand would turn pale and fall silent at the mere mention of it.

However, even ordinary male sorcerers find it difficult to raise such a ghost, because the Seven Fiends Corpse Ghost Raising Method goes against the laws of nature and shortens one's lifespan. If one's magical power is insufficient or one's cultivation is not deep enough, one may be easily undone by the ghost infant, which will devour the master's essence, blood, and flesh.

At this moment, the old sorcerer sitting behind the table opened his eyes, staring at the three of us with a sinister look, his hands forming a hand seal, seemingly plotting something. Our guide, Agan, quickly bowed and respectfully handed a large bag of things to the table, then leaned down and said a few words.

Shirley Yang took out the yellow triangular talisman and handed it to Agan, who then presented it to the old wizard. Upon seeing the item, the old wizard's expression changed drastically, and he began to tremble involuntarily. After a long while, he suddenly whispered something to Agan and waved for us to leave.

Agan offered a few words of explanation, but seeing the old shaman close his eyes and ignore him, he turned back and gave us a troubled look. Just as he was about to step forward to explain further, the ghost infant suddenly let out a chilling howl, abruptly flew in front of him, and stabbed at Agan's eye with a claw. Agan was startled, rolled over, and barely avoided it.

I rushed forward and pulled Agan up, then swiftly swung my knife to block the ghost infant. The little ghost flew into a rage, darting back and forth, repeatedly attacking the back of my head. Fatty, seeing the danger, drew his knife and charged forward. The two ruby daggers clashed in mid-air, suddenly creating layers of red blade light. The ghost infant fell to the ground with a thud, howling as it crawled into the underside of the table.

The old sorcerer, startled awake by the sound, stared blankly at the pair of ruby daggers in our hands, his face instantly filled with envy. A vessel on the table in front of him throbbed and rattled, clearly containing a living creature like the Five Poison Gu.

Seeing this, Shirley Yang called over her guide, Agan, and whispered a few words to him. Agan stepped forward and reported Shirley Yang's words. The old wizard nodded happily and extended his hand to us.

It turns out that Shirley Yang said that if the old wizard could assist us with our self-rescue plan in Thailand, he would definitely present us with a pair of ruby daggers as a gift, along with a generous reward.

At Shirley Yang's prompting, I handed the dagger to Agan, who then gave it to the old wizard. The old wizard stroked the blade with obvious delight, examining it closely under the lamplight, his face beaming with joy.

Then, the old man unceremoniously took the ruby dagger for himself. He nodded and told Agan to lead us out of the cave, find a place to rest for the night, and discuss things further tomorrow.

Agan led the three of us out of the cave and found a thatched hut nearby to rest in. To our horror, poisonous snakes and scorpions crawled everywhere inside, causing our skin to break out in cold goosebumps. Agan, however, seemed unfazed. He sprinkled some kind of medicinal powder, such as realgar and sulfur, inside the hut to drive away the poisonous creatures, then spread out a straw mat on the large kang (heated brick bed) and fell fast asleep.

We had no choice but to make do. The fat man grumbled and took up half the space, while we all huddled on the straw mats, pretending not to look around.

The thatched hut had fallen into disrepair over the years, standing alone by the edge of the woods. A broken door and a broken window had long since become large holes, and a cold wind was whistling in, making it seem rather chilly.

I couldn't fall asleep for ages. Then, I turned around, and oh my god, there it was again—that three-faced ghost from the dark woods, bloodied and dragging three long tongues, staring at us eerily from the window of the hut. Damn it, with this thing watching you like that, no sleep tonight, and even if you do fall asleep, you'll wake up from nightmares.

I playfully nudged the fat guy and pointed it out to him. Unexpectedly, the rascal brandished the ruby dagger in his hand and said, "I saw it in the woods, but it's best to respect Agan's silence and pretend I didn't know."

You damn fatso, when did you become so smart and learn to respect others? I wish you a terrible nightmare tonight, I muttered with a low laugh.

Turning around, Shirley Yang smiled slightly at me, then closed her eyes to rest. Not wanting to frighten her, I simply watched her pretend to be asleep.

As the night deepened, I gradually lost control of my eyelids and began to doze off. In my daze, I could still see the three ghostly faces in the window sometimes transforming into white paper lanterns hanging there, and sometimes grinning sinisterly in front of me. Damn it, I had nightmares all night.

Volume Two, Chapter Forty-Nine: The Secrets of Black Magic

Perhaps I was too tired, I slept until dawn. When I opened my eyes groggily, I found the straw mat empty, with only me lying there on my back.

Suddenly, I felt a cool sensation on my face; a drop of ice water landed on my skin, instantly banishing all sleepiness. Was the roof leaking? I turned to look at the ceiling and sat up abruptly with a gasp. A large, grass-green snake was coiled and twisted on the beam above me, its head facing down, mouth agape, saliva dripping down on me.

I sat up abruptly, and when I reached out and pressed my hand against the bedsheet, it felt cold and soft to the touch. I knew immediately that a "White Lady" (a large snake) had been sharing my bed with me last night. I was terrified. I've always been afraid of these little snakes, insects, and rodents crawling into my bed. Damn it, the sulfur powder that Ah Gan sprinkled must have been a fake.

I rushed out of the hut without looking back, and in my panic, I think I stepped on one or two poisonous snakes under the bed. Luckily, I was fast enough, or I would have been bitten on the heel by the snakes.

Last night, in the open space where the shamans performed their rituals, Shirley Yang, Fatty, and their guide Agan were eating meat around a steaming earthenware pot. I ran over and kicked Fatty, yelling, "You fatso, aren't you afraid of getting fat to death? You didn't even invite me to eat meat!"

The fat man said gleefully, "I caught a snake named Meiniang to keep you company, so you're not afraid you won't be able to get up." That damn fat man, I was so angry I wanted to kick him again.

Shirley Yang handed me a small strainer. I flipped the earthenware pot over, and lo and behold, it was full of whole snake meat, plus a huge chunk of lean meat cooking on top. Fatty said, "That's a famous Cantonese dish, Dragon Tiger Fight! That's cat meat."

Agan explained that most of the snakes in the area are actually non-venomous; the venomous ones have long been caught and used for insecticides. Snakes that used to be common, such as cobras, red-banded snakes, kraits, silver-banded snakes, and vipers, are now quite rare. Nowadays, villagers have to go to remote, deep forests to catch the best specimens.

After eating the Dragon Tiger Fight, I thought we would go into the cave to discuss the cooperation with the old sorcerer, but Agan stopped me. He said that the old sorcerer already had a plan and would be in seclusion during the day to prepare. We would see the results tonight.

It seems this old sorcerer already knows who the enemy is. I couldn't help but secretly rejoice that we had chosen the right path.

Sure enough, around mid-morning, the jeep driver brought over a confidential letter from the hotel. Shirley Yang reached out to open the envelope but suddenly realized something was wrong, so she handed it to her guide, Agan, to pass on to the old sorcerer.

Agan quietly went behind the tree, peeked out, shook his head, and said to us, "No. The old wizard has already sealed the cave entrance with his extremely powerful Heavenly Silkworm Gu spell and is in seclusion. Anyone who trespasses will be killed."

We peeked inside and saw that the opening was empty, nothing out of the ordinary. The fat man couldn't help but curl his lip, indicating that this was an exaggeration.

Seeing that we didn't believe him, Agan bent down and stepped back, picked up a non-venomous green snake from the grass, and tossed it into the cave entrance. But before the snake even entered the cave, it was blocked by some three-dimensional air and fell to the ground, already frozen white like ice crystals. A faint layer of net-like bloodstains could be seen on the snake's body. In the blink of an eye, the snake's body was torn into ice fragments by the net, scattered all over the ground.

The sight left the three of us speechless. It was as if several large, poisonous silkworms, exhaling icy, sinister energy, were curled up inside the cave wall, spying on any intruders.

After we left the tree from the cave entrance, Shurley Yang asked our guide, Agan, what exactly these witchcraft techniques were all about.

It turns out that the sorcery also originated from a certain esoteric religion in Tibet, China, and is somewhat similar to the magic of the ancient Jingjue Kingdom. However, this sorcery belongs to a branch of the incantations practiced by the indigenous peoples of Southeast Asia.

After thousands of years of local evolution, Southeast Asian black magic has evolved into a superior incantation that uses the caster's own blood and essence as a catalyst, aiming to control the incubation period of viruses and bacteria through the dominant spirit. We call this a blood curse.

Modern black magic is mainly divided into spirit black magic and object black magic. Spirit black magic is the most advanced form of mind control, capable of remotely controlling objects thousands of miles away. It is primarily used by top-level casters who use their Taoist skills to enhance their brainwaves and control the killing of the target. Such top-level black magic masters are extremely rare in the world today.

Artifact-based spells are further divided into insect-based spells and herb-based spells. Insect-based spells are further divided into live spells (living creature spells) and dead spells. Live spells, as the name suggests, refer to spellcasters using magic to control living poisonous creatures (such as spiders, centipedes, snakes, toads, scorpions, and geckos) to bite and kill the target. Dead spells, also known as drug spells, involve grinding the dried corpses of the five poisonous insects into powder and then killing the target through methods such as secretly poisoning them.

Furthermore, depending on the purpose, black magic is divided into life-and-death black magic and love black magic. Life-and-death black magic is used to punish the murderer to vent hatred or to achieve a certain goal. Love black magic is purely for adjusting the relationship between men and women. There is the "unity black magic" that requires both parties to be of one heart forever, the "heartless black magic" that forces the other party to remain faithful, and there is also a despicable "lust black magic" or "harmony black magic" that is purely for satisfying the man's lust. It is extremely despicable and belongs to the lowest level of methods. Generally, men pay a high price to hire a black magic master to perform this spell in order to obtain the woman's body. This method requires the black magic master to dig up the fresh corpse of a woman who died at the age of 49, feed her with the gecko poison from the Five Poisons, and then continuously chant corpse incantations for 49 days. The transparent corpse oil flowing from the woman's chin is collected in a container and boiled into an aphrodisiac. Because this corpse oil is extremely rare, it is also called harmony oil and is therefore extremely precious. The man secretly puts an aphrodisiac made from blended oil into the woman's food. After eating it, the woman will be in a daze and unaware of what is happening, allowing him to humiliate her at will, and she will even cooperate with him. When she wakes up, she will not remember what happened at all.

Depending on the different methods of spreading Gu magic, it can be divided into flying Gu and downward Gu. Flying Gu, including the aforementioned spirit Gu and curse Gu, requires the Gu master to set up an altar and perform rituals at night and in a secluded place. It spreads the Gu magic invisibly over long distances by controlling the mind or using black mist, poison, etc. Downward Gu includes insect Gu Gu and drug Gu, which spread the Gu magic by using human actions to drive poisonous insects or directly administering drugs.

The above are various examples. But there is one common premise: the target of the curse needs specific symbols, such as birth date, five elements, name, location, hair, nails, and commonly used items. The sorcerer uses these parts that have the aura of a living person to build an information database, and then creates a simulated individual such as a puppet. The sorcerer then casts a spell on the simulated individual to induce the poison to descend upon the target, thus achieving the purpose of the curse.

Those who are cursed will experience mild symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea, and limb pain; severe symptoms may include unconsciousness and death within a few days. However, releasing lesser ghosts is different; it can immediately cause the target to die from attacks and bites by ghosts such as the Seven Fiends Ghosts.

As night fell, the old sorcerer in the cave finally sent word for us to enter. This time, the old sorcerer's face was much kinder; I think it was probably due to the combined effect of the ruby twin swords and Shirley Yang's promise to donate five million baht to Kanan Village afterwards.

The guide, Agan, handed over the hotel letter. The old shaman glanced at it, smiled contemptuously, placed the letter in a bowl of blood-red cinnabar, chanted an incantation, and pulled a black silkworm from his clothes, tossing it onto the letter. Immediately, the letter burst into a bright blue flame. Suddenly, a huge blood centipede struggled out of the letter, writhing and thrashing about, before being burned to ashes in the blink of an eye.

We broke out in a cold sweat. The letter had been as thin as paper; how could a large centipede have been hidden inside? Agan told us that the letter was entangled in a highly sophisticated hidden centipede curse. This involved using a blood incantation as a catalyst, writing the recipient's name and birth date, drawing a centipede's shape on the letter with centipede powder, dripping the blood of a sorcerer into it, and then chanting incantations. The letter was thus imbued with the curse, undetectable to ordinary people. However, if the letter came into contact with the victim, the curse would activate. Once the hidden centipede bit a living person, the poison would attack their heart and soul, causing them to foam at the mouth, convulse, and die on the spot.

The old sorcerer chanted incantations, then suddenly waved his hand and shouted, "Throw it away!" A flash of blood appeared at the cave entrance, revealing the veins of an invisible white silkworm net, which was now sealed anew by the Heavenly Silkworm Gu. From the outside, the cave entrance appeared unobstructed, but we now knew it held boundless killing intent.

The fat man was engrossed in watching when his hand tightened. A chilling laugh echoed behind him as the seven evil spirits the old wizard had been raising snatched the ruby dagger from the fat man's hand and flew back to the old wizard's shoulder.