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Chapter 72: Since When Are Psychopaths This Strong?

  "Wei Feng? That name sounds familiar..."

  The paper doll lying on the wet pavement muttered to itself. Then, as a realization struck, its features twisted into a mask of pure indignation.

  "Are you sh*tting me?! That’s the name of the Director of the Provincial Supernatural Ministry!"

  "Oh?" John leaned over, his grin widening. "So you've heard of me?"

  "You... You're Wei Feng?!"

  The paper doll was momentarily stunned. It had never seen Director Wei in person. Standing there in the rain, John’s aura was completely unreadable—vacillating between "ordinary kid" and "untouchable master." To the puppet, it felt like the presence of a true apex predator.

  Still, logic dictated that the Director of the Ministry shouldn't be a teenager with a smart-aleck attitude.

  "Since you know who I am, go home and get your affairs in order. Or rather, wash your neck and wait for the reaper to arrive!"

  Without waiting for a reply, John brought his foot down, grinding the paper doll into a soggy pulp.

  "Was that a companion spirit, too?" He looked at the scraps of wet paper, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

  Just then, a figure came sprinting through the torrential rain from the distance.

  "Kid! You okay?"

  Ron skidded to a halt. When he saw Zhao Yuanlong’s crumpled body on the ground, he let out a long sigh of relief. The winner was clear.

  "Let’s just say it was an easy day at the office," John shrugged. "Honestly, Mr. Ron, do you always spend your days coasting on such low-level missions?"

  "Easy?" Ron glared at him. "Oh, here we go. You’re soaking up the spotlight again, aren't you?"

  "Zhao Yuanlong was no pushover. Did you cheese the fight again? Tell me you didn't just ambush him from a closet."

  "Ambush? I prefer the term 'Tactical Surprise,'" John said righteously. "Against a serial killer, you use every trick in the book. Though, strictly speaking, my moral compass was screaming the whole time."

  "Give me a break."

  Ron rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone to call the authorities. They needed a clean-up crew to handle the body and erase the signs of battle from the noodle shop. Even though the supernatural was no longer a secret, the government still preferred to keep the gruesome details out of the morning news.

  "By the way, sir, some guy from a 'Pig-Slaughtering Society' came by looking for me."

  "A what?" Ron blinked, confused. "A slaughterhouse? What did they want? To turn you into bacon?"

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  John’s lip curled. "No, some guy named Jia Yuan from the... 'Sovereign Society,' I think?"

  "Jia Yuan?" Ron’s expression shifted instantly. "You mean the Sovereign Society?"

  "Yeah, that sounds about right."

  "They showed up here?"

  "Yep. Right after I finished Zhao, this Jia Yuan guy popped up and started demanding an 'explanation.' So I gave him one—I crushed his paper puppet."

  "..."

  Ron went silent. It was a classic John move—aggressive, effective, and completely lacking in diplomacy.

  "Sir, what exactly is the Sovereign Society?"

  "A dark organization composed of rogue Ghost-Users. They’re ruthless, and frankly, the government is currently too busy with high-level spirit outbreaks to deal with them properly."

  "Am I in trouble?" John rubbed his chin, looking genuinely contemplative for once.

  "Trouble? Sure. But nothing life-threatening for now," Ron said, shaking his head. "They’re a shadow organization. They don't dare move against someone in the open."

  "Fair enough." John nodded, dismissing the threat as quickly as it had appeared. The deed was done, and he wasn't one to lose sleep over a melting paper doll.

  He turned his focus to more important matters. "So, about the reward for this mission..."

  "It’s all yours. Happy?" Ron sighed. He hadn't expected John to actually stumble upon the target and take him down solo.

  "Well, seeing as I performed so excellently and didn't let a single civilian get scratched..." John began, rubbing his hands together like a fly. "Maybe you could throw in a little personal bonus?"

  "Excuse me?" Ron’s eyes nearly bulged. "I’m letting you keep the entire official bounty, and you’re still trying to shake me down?!"

  "Is there a problem with that?"

  "Get lost!"

  Ron couldn't believe the audacity. The kid was a literal vampire, trying to bleed his own teacher dry.

  As they bickered on the sidewalk, the police arrived.

  "Instructor Ron! Thank you for the hard work!"

  Officer Brian walked up with a grateful smile. If the Ghost-Users hadn't handled this, a standard police raid on Zhao Yuanlong would have resulted in a bloodbath.

  "Don't thank me. Thank him," Ron said, gesturing to John.

  "Wait... you?!" Brian froze, only just noticing the teenager standing in the rain.

  "Hey, Uncle Brian. Long time no see," John grinned. "I was just bored, so I decided to lend a hand."

  "You... you killed a One-Curse Ghost-User?!"

  Brian stared at John, trying to reconcile the boy in front of him with the "lunatic" he remembered from the dorm-running incident. He looked John up and down, unable to process the leap in power.

  As Brian led his team to secure the scene, John heard him muttering to himself:

  "The world is really going to hell... since when are psychopaths this strong?"

  "Hey, even crazies deserve a place in the sun!" John shouted after him. After all, his "condition" was his best weapon in a fight.

  "Alright, mission accomplished. Let's head back," Ron said. He tapped a few buttons on his phone. "I’ve submitted the report. The reward should clear in a few days."

  "What’s that you’re using?" John’s curiosity was piqued. If he could access that system, he could take missions on his own. He wasn't exactly a fan of sharing the loot, anyway.

  "You can't use it," Ron said, shaking his head. "Your rank is too low, and your clearance hasn't been processed."

  "Too low?" John puffed out his chest. "I just killed Zhao Yuanlong!"

  "That’s for the higher-ups to evaluate. Besides, you aren't an official Ministry agent. You’re just a student."

  "I see..." A flicker of disappointment crossed John’s face. "I’d be willing to take the low-pay missions, you know. For the experience."

  "You’re that desperate for work?" Ron looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

  Even veteran Ghost-Users usually avoided missions if they could. The risk of death was constant, and the Ministry’s evaluations weren't always accurate.

  "I just live for the thrill of the hunt, sir."

  "..."

  Ron’s eye twitched. You really are sick.

  "Fine. Next time a mission comes up, I’ll try to bring you along. Deal?"

  "Deal!"

  Ron shook his head as they walked away. Most people fled from the supernatural in terror; this kid treated it like a theme park.

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