Chapter 638: Ignorance
In the east of the city, a large number of ordinary citizens had gathered. They held high protest banners, shouting and yelling, and many, ignoring the shopkeepers' futile resistance, took the opportunity to smash and loot nearby stores.
Few were genuinely protesting; the vast majority had ulterior motives. Some sought to profit from the chaos, others aimed to vent their dissatisfaction—with the authorities, with the world—through destruction and plunder. In their eyes, the entire world owed them something.
Then there were those who were purely there to witness the spectacle. They had never experienced such an event before and found it amusing, novel, and thrilling, so they joined the ruckus, not caring how much trouble they caused.
These people, to put it plainly, were thugs—a mob whose minds had yet to awaken.
The scene was utter pandemonium, with the police utterly unable to control it. Many officers were injured, some even losing their lives.
The situation spiraled out of control. The police, left with no choice, opened fire to suppress the rioters, but instead of bringing the situation under control, it only made things worse. The thugs, who had initially only targeted businesses, now turned their direct aggression towards the police.
The number of officers was too small compared to the mob. Even with firearms and ammunition, they couldn't suppress these rioters, only making their own predicament more perilous.
Yang Haoran stepped out of the spatial rift, his current location a large supermarket.
Yet now, this once familiar supermarket had become unrecognizable. Shelves lay toppled, various goods were being looted by the thugs, and several supermarket employees lay sprawled on the ground, assaulted by the rioters. Some were unconscious, while others, though awake, were screaming in agony from their injuries.
Yang Haoran's sudden appearance startled all the thugs. Although they had seen various videos online, they had never personally witnessed demons or ghosts, let alone such a bizarre act as a human walking directly out of a spatial rift.
After a moment of stunned silence, the thugs snapped back to reality. They showed no fear; instead, they stared at Yang Haoran with curious expressions. Some female thugs even whistled at him, their attitudes provocatively light.
What is a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger? These thugs were precisely that. They treated the videos they saw online as mere movies. Tragedy hadn't befallen them, so they couldn't comprehend the despair of those involved; instead, they found it thrilling and fun, eager to see such things with their own eyes.
Thus, seeing Yang Haoran emerge from a spatial rift, these thugs displayed not the slightest hint of fear, but rather immense curiosity.
Yang Haoran's gaze also fell upon these thugs. They were all young, the oldest barely twenty, the youngest still prepubescent. Looking at them, a wave of sorrow washed over him for these reckless youngsters oblivious to their impending doom.
"You seem very curious about me? " Yang Haoran asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Heh heh! Yeah, super curious. How'd you do that? Is it magic?"
"Haha, I don't think it's magic. Didn't you see just now? A spatial rift appeared! I bet he tore that spatial rift open with his bare hands! Hahaha, awesome, truly awesome!"
"What kind of bullsh*t tearing open a spatial rift? You think this is some fantasy novel? From where I stand, that was clearly a computer composite, some kind of projection or something. I can't explain it, but I can tell at a glance it's utterly fake. It's just a trick to fool you illiterates. Read more books, it'll do you good."
The thugs chattered back and forth, their tones devoid of surprise, filled instead with sarcasm and disdain. From their words and actions, it was clear that while curiosity accounted for some of their reaction to Yang Haoran's sudden appearance, disbelief was the dominant emotion.
Some people are just like that: unless the knife cuts into their own flesh, they'll never believe a knife can kill. If someone tells them a knife can kill, they'll argue to win, using their limited understanding to refute and mock you, finally scoffing that you're uncultured.
Yang Haoran remained unperturbed by these youngsters' mockery and taunts, a faint smile still on his face.
"Let me give you a piece of advice: you're on the verge of death. Do you believe me? " Yang Haoran asked with a smile.
"Uncle, are you mentally challenged or something? We're on the verge of death? Heh, go on, tell us, how are we on the verge of death?"
"Why bother with him? If he dares to be so blind as to block our way, we'll teach him a lesson, knock him out cold. Don't think just because you know a few magic tricks or illusions, you're some kind of master. I'll spit in your face!"
Yang Haoran didn't answer. Instead, he took his right hand from his pocket, then pointed upwards, gesturing for them to look for themselves.
"What, is there a ghost up there? I'll. . ."
The young man scoffed disdainfully, but instinctively tilted his head to look up at the ceiling. Before he could finish his sentence, he froze in place, the disdainful expression on his face also stiffening.
The other thugs, seeing his unusual reaction, similarly looked up. And upon seeing it, every single thug froze.
On the ceiling directly above them, a ghostly entity was staring intently down at them.
This ghostly entity was no ordinary Wánglíng, nor was it an Evil Spirit (evil Spirit) or Evil Spirit (evil Spirit); it was a Resentful Spirit, a creature crafted into existence!
This Resentful Spirit was entirely bluish-purple. It had no hair, no eyebrows, and a pair of oily black eyes that bore a slight resemblance to the Underworld Office's Ghost Eyes, but only slightly; they were not true Ghost Eyes.
Its entire body was smooth and naked, resembling a monster with only skin and no fur. Without reproductive organs or other distinct features, it was impossible to tell if it was male or female.
Though its gender was indiscernible, it in no way diminished the terror it instilled. That bluish-purple skin, coupled with its grotesque face, was enough to scare a child into snotty tears.
The Resentful Spirit adhered to the ceiling, its limbs twisted in unnatural directions, gripping the surface tightly like a human spider.
Seeing the thugs below look at it, it let out a shriek, revealing a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth. Its mouth contained a large amount of viscous fluid, and as it suddenly opened wide, strands of sticky fluid stretched between its fangs, both disgusting and terrifying.
The Resentful Spirit's shriek snapped the stunned thugs below back to attention. Most of them let out terrified screams, then scattered in fear. But there were still one or two oddballs who thought this thing was just a trick. They used their actions to demonstrate their ignorance.
"Why are you running? Based on my years of experience, I can tell at a glance this ghost thing is fake. There are too many flaws. It might fool amateurs, but if it wants to trick a professional like me, it needs a few more years of specialized training."
A female thug shouted, reminding her companions not to be afraid. Some thugs, hearing her, continued to flee, but others hesitated, looking at the speaking female thug, then back at the Resentful Spirit on the ceiling.
To prove her words true, and to demonstrate her profound expertise in the professional field, the female thug calmly pushed up her glasses.
"I'll show you right now that this ghost thing is just a bluff. All of you, open your eyes and watch carefully; don't make fools of yourselves anymore."
The female thug was supremely confident, and the crowd's attention also satisfied her vanity. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a bottle of milk drink she had looted, and hurled it at the Resentful Spirit above.
The Resentful Spirit shrieked again, its sharp fangs directly biting through the milk drink. A large amount of white liquid sprayed onto the female thug's face. Before she could react, the Resentful Spirit lunged at her!
After a piercing scream, a pair of shattered glasses fell to the ground. The lenses were cracked, stained with white liquid.
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