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Chapter 192: Ghost Market (Part 2) III

Chapter 192: Ghost Market (Part 2) III
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Chapter 192: Ghost Market (Part 2) III

Pang family’s been down on their luck while here I am, earning decently. 1,300 from Pang Guang last week and 1,800 from Xiaomei today. Wouldn’t it be great if this carries on?

I stuffed my dolls into my bag and walked toward the entrance.

I saw a Land Rover parked along the road with Dahai inside, sitting happily in his pink pajamas.

He waved for me to get on, which I did.

“Hey! Do you want to get breakfast? Minced pork noodles? My treat.”

“You’re adapting to this too fast, aren’t you, Dahai?”

“Well, I’ve stayed in Pang Guang’s house for half a year when I was studying. My ancestors have ordered Pang Guang to take good care of me. Although we’re not related in name, he does help me out whenever I need it.”

“All Pangs are dead but you have everything now. Could the severing of ties have saved your life?”

“Now that you’re saying it… yeah, that seems logical.”

“Drive safe and we’ll chat at home.”

“Alright, don’t worry. I’ve had my license for five years now.”

“Have you driven at all in those five years?”

“Relax. This car is huge. Everyone gave way to me earlier.”

The moment we got home, or rather Pang Guang’s home, I immediately asked for the bathroom.

Dahai pointed me in the direction of the loo and said, “Have you been holding your pee on the ride home?”

I rushed into the bathroom to observe the sink and the toilet bowl.

“Why aren’t you closing the door?” Dahai asked, walking over.

I waved him away dismissively. “Don’t be noisy.”

“You’re acting strange,” Dahai commented.

“You won’t understand even if I explain it. You came over yesterday, didn’t you? Did you use this toilet?”

“Yes.”

“Anything amiss?” I asked, pointing at the bowl and sink.

“No. What could possibly be unusual about these?”

“Any burned rice straw or paper?”

“Oh, now that you mention it, I do remember seeing something black in the tub yesterday. I even gave it a rub. It should have a trace.”

I rushed to the tub and there really was a black stain.

“Why are you looking for this? And how did you know?” Dahai asked in confusion.

“Burnt marks left by the voodoo doll. Xiaomei burned it, and if she spoke the truth, the name on the paper is Pang Guang.”

“Oh, f*ck! You really did it?” he asked, astonished.

“I’m not that powerful.”

“What are you trying to say then?”

“It’s a long story. I’m just going to do it straight,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Where’s his bed? Is there a safe by it?”

“Safe? I have no idea.”

“Bring me there,” I instructed.

His room was very clean and tidy but there doesn’t seem to be any safe in sight.

There was a burn mark in the bathroom but I couldn’t find the safe.

Did she lie to me?

Why did she deposit 1,800 into my account, then?

Just then, I spotted a painting on the wall. “There’s something behind that.”

“What? How do you even know about that?” Dahai looked comically befuddled.

“Check out the sides,” I urged.

“Just some black lines. Probably because it’s been hung for a long time.”

“Why would lines appear there if you don’t touch it?” I volleyed back

“You mean there’s something behind it?

Ignoring him, I walked over and reached up for the painting.

I lifted it up but no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t budge.

“Let me help you,” Dahai offered.

“Dirty,” I told him subconsciously.

“He’s not here anymore so I’m going to have to throw them away, anyway. Come, let’s do this,” he says.

With his help, I finally managed to push it aside, revealing a palm-sized crack.

“Why’s it so tight?” Dahai questioned.

“That’s hydraulic pressure. It’s amazing that we even manage to open it this much. I’ll count to three and we’ll let go and find the switch.”

“1, 2, 3,” the fatty shouted and we let go simultaneously.

“Damn! You’re right, there really is something behind.”

“Search the room. The switch must be somewhere.”

“That’s too troublesome. Wait here.” Fatty exited the room.

I continued looking around for clues and upon pulling the bed sheet out on the bed, I found a combination lock.

It was probably the key to the wall painting.

Dahai rushed in and plugged an electric drill into the powerpoint.

He started working on the crack and the painting quickly shifted.

“Where did you get that?”

“Pang Guang has this stuff in his storeroom,” Dahai answered with a laugh.

There was a cupboard hidden in the wall, and there were four safe boxes and a few watches within.

The golden pocket watch sat quietly in a corner.

“Oh, my God!” Dahai exclaimed.

Ignoring him again, I opened up the golden watch.

The needles were in place and the clock was running.

There was a photograph of a man inside.

“This looks like a decent watch. Isn’t that my second uncle’s watch?”

“Your second uncle?” I repeated.

“That’s Pang Guang’s father. He’s overseas,” Dahai informed me.

“Do you remember the watch I received last week in exchange for two dolls?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“This is the watch I gave Pang Guang. Put a photo of someone you hate and he will die when the clock strikes 12.”

“F*ck me! He wants his own father dead?” Dahai yelled, aghast.

“Isn’t his father extremely wealthy?”

“Of course. Pang Guang himself is rich so how well do you think his father is living overseas?”

“But why are they all dead?”

“Wait, I remember this photo,” Dahai said before pulling me out of the room and taking a cylindrical roll out from the storeroom.

“What is it?”

He pulled out a photograph with over 200 people in it.

“It’s a very big photograph. It was taken last year during our reunion. Everyone had to go. He must’ve cut out his father’s face,” Dahai explained, pointing at a hole in the photograph.

“Are you inside?” I asked.

“No. I’m a Pang but I’m not one of them.”

“I think I understand now. All the dead victims are in this photograph…”

“Everyone attends the reunion every year without fail.”

I looked at the family photo. There were elderly and young children. All were present save for Dahai’s family.

“Pang Guang had only intended to kill his father but he couldn’t find a photo of just him alone. He did not know that this watch meant to kill whoever’s in a chosen photograph…” I rationalized.

“Oh, f*ck,” Dahai breathed out.

“You gotta thank your ancestor now. You won’t be here right now if not for him.”

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