"But what exactly am I supposed to do with this thing?"

  John stared at the Lesser Spirit currently performing its best "creepy crawl" across the floor of the void. He fell into a deep, skeptical silence.

  Based on his current combat stats, it would take him—at most—two minutes to beat a Lesser Spirit into a puddle of ectoplasm with his bare hands.

  "Buy it to serve tea? No, it’s a non-corporeal entity; it would just phase through the cup," he muttered.

  "Maybe use it as a portable AC unit in the summer? Keep the room chilly? But electricity isn't even that expensive. Not worth the investment."

  "Use it for combat? That’s a joke. It wouldn't do much more than give the enemy a mild case of the shivers or scare a few civilians."

  John’s mind raced. He wasn't in a hurry to pull the trigger. After all, this wasn't a cheap purchase. After an intense session of mental brainstorming, he reached a singular, undeniable conclusion:

  This thing was absolutely useless.

  "If I had this kind of cash, I’d be better off buying a captured spirit from the Ministry..."

  Even the entry exam for the Intelligence Class used a Lesser Spirit. Hell, that con artist back at the apartment complex had one. In the hierarchy of the supernatural, these things were basically the standard unit of measurement for "weak."

  As he ruminated, the Lesser Spirit finished its crawl and stopped right in front of him.

  Suddenly, a pulse of information flickered in John’s mind:

  [Lesser Spirit: The weakest tier of ghost. Special Function: Can be fused with the host.]

  "Huh?"

  John blinked. He ignored the first part—everyone knew these things were bottom-tier trash—but that second part caught his attention.

  Fusion?

  "As in... we become one?" John pondered. "Is that the catch? Is that why it's so expensive?"

  He found it hard to believe a single Lesser Spirit was worth 100 Ghost Coins. Considering a kill only netted him one coin, the markup was a staggering 100-to-1.

  Even for a shady merchant like the Ghost Face, this felt like a massive scam.

  "Fusion must be where the real value lies."

  John felt a spark of interest. Ghost Coins were currently only good for passive mental defense, which was a niche utility. Outside of high-level threats like the Ghost River, he didn't need that much protection.

  "Might as well give it a shot."

  He looked the spirit in the eye. It was long, distorted, and radiated a constant, numbing chill. A thick white mist obscured its face.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  John didn't hesitate any longer. He hit the "Buy" button.

  Instantly, the cluster of red beads above him dimmed and vanished, leaving him with a measly three coins.

  "Fuse!"

  The moment he gave the command, a bright blue pill plummeted from the darkness above. As his consciousness touched it, a tooltip appeared:

  [Blue Catalyst: Increases fusion success rate to 100%.]

  John’s jaw dropped. He let out a strangled roar:

  "Are you kidding me?! It’s a bundled sale?!"

  He wasn't stupid. This pill wasn't a "free gift." This was the actual reward he had earned from digesting the Ghost Bride’s head. If he hadn't bought the spirit, this reward would have likely manifested as some other kind of permanent stat boost.

  "You racketeer! You absolute corporate shill! That was a Calamity-class head!"

  John glared at the blue pill. He wished the pill's only effect was to allow him to reach out and slap the Ghost Face right across its smug, hidden features. The image of the "Divine Doctor" was officially dead. In its place stood a predatory pharmacist running a supernatural gacha scam.

  The fusion began.

  The Lesser Spirit stood up and dissolved into John’s consciousness. His mind grew heavy, sinking into a deep, icy slumber.

  Back in reality, John lay in his bedroom. His body began to emit a rhythmic pulse of freezing energy, his skin turning pale as he took on the aura of a sleeping ghost.

  Time passed.

  When John finally opened his eyes, a wave of frigid air blasted outward, frosting the windows of his bedroom. He sat up and stretched, feeling remarkably refreshed.

  "Is this... the power of the Spirit?"

  With a thought, a wave of eerie energy rolled off him. His face hadn't changed, but his entire vibe had shifted. He looked cold, predatory, and deeply unsettling—like someone possessed. A normal person looking at him now would feel a primitive, lizard-brain instinct to run.

  His mind was perfectly clear. In fact, the icy sensation in his brain granted him a state of absolute, detached logic. In his vision, he could see traces of "Ghost Mist" swirling in the air.

  With a flick of his wrist, he could manipulate that mist. This was the Lesser Spirit’s signature skill:

  [Chilling Aura]

  It had zero offensive power. However, he would never have to worry about a heatwave again. He could also use the aura to forcibly "calm" someone experiencing an emotional breakdown by literally chilling their nerves.

  His final verdict?

  "It’s almost entirely useless!"

  No wonder the Ministry’s database never mentioned Lesser Spirits having skills. Who would bother categorizing "being a human air conditioner" as a combat ability?

  "Still, while I’m in 'Spirit Form,' my physical stats and spiritual synchronization have definitely seen a bump." John clenched his fist, feeling the increased power. "I guess I got ripped off, but not totally ripped off."

  He looked down at his chest. "You’re still a scammer, though. Never forget that."

  He punched himself in the chest for good measure. The Ghost Face didn't react, but John ended up yelping and rubbing his sore pectoral.

  "Can’t even hit the guy..."

  He shook it off, got dressed, and began packing his bag. As he reached for his gear, a sudden, primal craving hit him.

  "Huh?"

  Following a gut instinct, he started digging through his drawers. A moment later, he pulled out a Ghost Crystal—the one he’d looted from the Mirror Ghost. He’d turned down the official rewards to get into the Ghost Class, but he’d kept the "battlefield salvage" for himself.

  Looking at the raw crystal, John found himself licking his lips. He felt a ravenous urge to... eat it.

  This was an unrefined crystal. Even professional Ghost-Users wouldn't dare swallow one whole; the lingering resentment of the dead spirit would normally corrupt the user's mind or cause physical mutation.

  But John didn't care. He couldn't stop himself.

  He tossed the crystal into his mouth and crunched down. It dissolved instantly. He let out a breath of pure satisfaction.

  "Oh, that’s the stuff."

  The crystal was digested in seconds. With a thought, he felt his Chilling Aura grow slightly more potent. His physical strength saw another incremental tick upward.

  "So... I can eat Ghost Crystals to level up the Spirit's abilities?"

  He realized that the craving hadn't been his—it had been the Lesser Spirit’s instinct. As a ghost itself, it didn't fear the "resentment" inside the crystal; it saw it as high-calorie fuel.

  "Maybe this 'worthless' spirit can actually grow..."

  John smirked. A "human air conditioner" might be a joke, but if he kept feeding it until it became a "Blizzard of Death"?

  That was a business model he could get behind.