Chapter 15: The Phantom Dog Demon Child (Part One)

Confidential File

August 7, 2999 — Resident at 215 Gushui Street in the central courtyard reported experiencing frequent nightmares at night. The dreams involved being chased and beaten with blunt objects, accompanied by intense pain. The resident claimed the disturbances were caused by a “vengeful spirit.” The on-duty team conducted a site investigation and concluded the noises were due to the building’s age and disrepair. They soothed the resident’s fears and closed the case.

November 20 — The same resident reported frequent visual and auditory hallucinations, leading to emotional instability. The team suspected the disturbances might be linked to a relic but found no conclusive evidence. Following protocol, they reported the case to headquarters. That night, team members were assigned around-the-clock watch to monitor the situation.

November 21 — The hallucinations were confirmed to be real…

December 30 — On-duty personnel reported emotional instability…

February 4, 3000 — On-duty personnel reported signs of physical weakening, accompanied by frequent hallucinations and intracranial pain. Acting on orders from Commander Ji Huaisu, all residents were evacuated, and the building at 215 Gushui Street was sealed off. Following further instructions, a special three-month observation period was initiated.

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“Chu Hengkong, I’m warning you — spirits are full of tricks. Make sure you clean up thoroughly afterward; don’t leave any loose ends…”

Today is May 3, one day shy of the end of the observation period. Chu Hengkong stands before the door of 215 Gushui Street, recalling the earnest admonition from Commander Jie’an before his departure.

This is an old apartment building. The exterior staircases are rusted and flaking, and the windows are barred with old-fashioned metal security grilles, resembling a row of cramped cages from a distance. The team member escorting Chu Hengkong, Lü Xing, is a seasoned veteran. He peels off the yellow seal on the iron door, his hands trembling slightly from having handled countless criminals.

“There’s something very strange inside, Brother Chu. Be careful,” Lü Xing whispers.

“Have you tried using relics?” Chu Hengkong inquires.

“Blades and guns don’t work; we don’t have anything more advanced on hand.” Lü Xing shivers and hands over a bunch of keys. “If you ask me, this building should just be torn down to settle it once and for all.”

“Let’s see how things stand first.” Chu Hengkong takes the keys and steps inside alone.

Lü Xing feels a surge of respect, thinking Chu the detective is truly skilled and fearless—entering a haunted building knowingly. Little does he realize that Chu feels no danger at all. After three months of observation, it is clear that the building is quiet during the day. Moreover, Chu carries a talisman in his pocket…

【Spirit Pacification Talisman】

【Level: 2】

【Origin: Chenjun Temple, Longquan Township】

【Effect: When struck, it repels ethereal spirits; it can bind spirits of level 2 or below. When affixed to a solid object, it seals spirits of level 2 or below; the object transforms into a relic, with effects depending on the spirit’s power.】

【Incantation: Lost souls and wandering ghosts, restless spirits cloud the mind. Calm the soul, pacify the heart, and subdue the spirit with forgiveness. — Ji Qiufeng】

A joke—this talisman was personally crafted by Commander Huaisu! It’s probably more reliable than his daughter going into battle herself.

With the talisman in hand, there’s no reason to fear ghosts. The mystical “three-month observation period” now makes sense: Commander Jie’an intends to let the spirit grow strong before binding it as a spirit relic. Chu Hengkong is not only unafraid but also somewhat eager to see what this mission yields. He ascends the rusted external metal staircase, each step creaking underfoot.

The old building has no elevator. He climbs to the sixth floor and uses the keys to open the “water distribution room.” Inside, cylindrical machinery occupies most of the space. Near the main power switch is a small slot resembling a coin insertion hole. Chu pulls out ten energy beads, inserting them one by one before switching off the main valve.

Thud.

Power connects, circuits engage, and the sound of water releasing echoes through the building as the hallway lights ignite one by one. The old building stirs to life, illuminated by these thousand-energy-bead spheres. Chu has learned that in Huilong City, there is no electricity, only “tidal currents.” These energy beads serve as both currency and power source, supplying energy through a mysterious mechanism that keeps the city functioning.

He only wonders if vengeful spirits require water.

Chu walks cautiously down the hallway, the light revealing dust-covered surfaces. The walls bear bullet holes of varying depths—evidence of multiple gunfights. Sawdust and scraps of iron are piled in corners; some larger fragments hint at a crushed shape, seemingly flattened by some immense force. The strength was less than his own but the size was enormous.

He attempts to piece together one iron fragment; the wild cracks remind him of a wolf in the snowy mountains. But these fragments once formed a large iron shield—two men tall and yet bitten through by this wolf. How large must such a beast be?

Chu’s nostrils flare. There is no scent of animal musk, only a faint stench of garbage. The situation is more complicated than imagined. As he prepares to investigate further, a soft sound comes from behind.

The lights go out.

From back to front, the lights extinguish one by one. Chu grips a piece of broken iron and slowly turns around. Near the stairwell, a faint green emergency light glows, casting a sickly hue on the wall. There, a gaunt face stares coldly at him. The face is smeared with blood and bruises; the eye sockets are empty bleeding wounds, with dark blood oozing like foul pus down the visage.

Not as terrifying as in the movies, but grotesque.

Chu steps forward, seemingly provoking the ghostly face embedded in the wall. It vanishes instantly. From the rooftop comes the faint voice of a small girl:

“Don’t… please… don’t come closer…”

A gale sweeps down the corridor, stirring dust and splinters. A shadow as large as a car roars wildly toward him!

Without hesitation, Chu hurls the iron shard. The fist-sized metal piece strikes the shadow’s head, but passes through as if it were air—just like pebbles passing through imaginary demons before. Physical attacks are useless. In a breath, the shadow crosses the hallway, opening a massive maw to bite.

The beast’s distinctive musky odor rides the gust, thick and suffocating.

The shadow lunges but misses. Chu is prepared. He elbows out a window, then leaps through, grabbing the security grille with a tentacle curling upward.

Dangling outside the third-floor window by his tentacle, Chu waits for the spirit’s next move. The ominous shadow atop the roof dissipates. He counts silently by seconds.

One, two, three…

Boom!

Dust explodes within the building, shaking even the security grille. Three and a half seconds later, the mezzanine between the third and fourth floors collapses. The shadow crashes through three floors, falling amidst the rubble and charging toward the glass window. Chu releases his grip and lands just as the glass shatters, ripping the iron grille into fragments.

Taking several steps back out of the building’s perimeter, Chu hears low growls from inside, but no pursuit follows. After a while, the beast’s scent fades, as if it senses Chu’s lack of intent to enter again. But Chu can feel something watching him. That thing still eyes him, ready to attack if he steps inside.

Lü Xing rushes over, voice trembling: “Brother Chu, are you alright?”

“It’s definitely strange,” Chu flexes his arm. “Tell the others to keep their distance. That thing moves even during the day.”

“Do we smash the building down?” Lü Xing asks nervously.

“Not yet…” Chu contemplates.

This opponent is tough. Being immune to physical attacks is one thing; one could simply hit it with a talisman when the time is right. But while hanging outside the building, Chu observed clearly: the ghost smashed the rooftop and bit through the glass itself. It can cause physical damage. A malicious ghost with both an ethereal body and brute strength—rushing in unprepared could be fatal. Better to probe its limits first.

Chu recalls the girl’s ghostly face and asks, “Have you checked for child disappearance cases nearby?”

“We did a sweep late last year; only one family fit the conditions…” Lü Xing hesitates, then hands over a prepared report. Chu skims it and frowns. “Closed the case after only a week?”

“We didn’t dare dig deeper,” Lü Xing whispers. “They stirred up the ‘Cats.’”

“Cats” is local slang.

In places with many stories, local jargon abounds. In Huilong City, the most common terms are “Gray Weasel,” “White Cat,” and “Crow.” These seemingly harmless animals actually denote three untouchable factions within the city. The Gray Weasel is the swamp-dwelling cult called the “Congling Society”—encounters lead to ruinous enchantments. The White Cat represents the “Club” in the central courtyard—a conglomerate of gambling, luxury goods, and prostitution bosses. The Crow is the “Black Workshop” from above—weapon dealers notorious for their brutality. Crossing them means death.

During his three weeks of investigations, Chu learned of these “Three Beasts” and how citizens fear even uttering their names. He had not expected even members of the Resurrection Squad to be so wary.

Chu raps the report against Lü Xing’s arm, half-joking: “You’re cops—why fear criminals?”

“At first, no,” Lü laughs awkwardly. “But after a while… you learn to be afraid.”

Chu nods, not pressing him further. “Take me to see that family.”

To save time, they take a shortcut through a crowded market. The sky is pitch black, not a glimmer of light. Vendors prop up small lamps with wooden sticks. Smoke drifts in the faint glow; their calls sound small, routine. “Lost elixir of all souls,” “Deadly relics,” “Swamp treasure maps,” “True secret elixir of all souls”… Among stalls selling fake medicines and relics, legitimate shops sell aquatic plants and frozen poultry. Old missing person notices and wanted posters plaster the walls, faces blurred by rain.

The missing girl’s family resides two streets away in the Bangxing Building, a narrow sixteen-story tower with an elevator—saving Chu the climb. After knocking for a long time, a man opens the door, angry and ready to shout, but stiffens when he sees Chu’s tentacle.

“Sir, are you Detective Chu?” the man asks, hope flickering in his eyes.

“I’m Chu Hengkong of the Resurrection Squad,” Chu nods. “I’d like to learn about your situation.”

The man’s expression shifts instantly, as if a drowning man glimpsed driftwood. He grabs Chu’s hand: “Detective, please help me! My daughter’s been missing for half a year, nowhere to be found. I beg you…”

The man nearly breaks down. Chu pats his hand gently. “Come inside and talk.”

The man’s name is Hein Lu, 23, a night-shift worker at a hotel four kilometers away. His daughter, named Tina, takes her mother’s surname. His account is disjointed, mostly describing his daughter’s appearance but failing to specify features. He rambles about how obedient and well-behaved she was, then breaks down crying. He knows nothing of the disappearance details—only that she didn’t come home after school.

Emotional people often provide little useful information; one must rely on one’s own perception.

The apartment shows signs of long neglect—garbage bags piled by the door, dog hair in corners and sofa crevices. The daughter’s bedroom door is firmly shut. The man’s own bedroom door is open; the wardrobe door ajar, inside a gaudy purple dress gathers dust.

Chu waits quietly for Hein to finish, then asks, “What does your wife do for work?”

Hein falls silent for a moment. “She’s a housewife.”

Chu says nothing, meeting his gaze steadily. Under the calm scrutiny, Hein falters. “My wife worked as a hostess at the Club… just serving drinks, nothing else…” His voice is small; any man confessing this would feel humiliated.

“May I speak with your wife?”

“She passed away… last year, in an accident down below…” Hein turns away. “She drowned walking through the swamp at night.”

There’s no reason for a hostess in the central courtyard to be walking through the swamp at night. Chu knows Hein doesn’t believe his own words.

“My condolences.” “…” “Did you have any pets?” “A small black dog… my daughter could hold it…” “Describe it in detail.” “It was well-behaved… my daughter loved it, bought it a leash and a stone collar with her pocket money…” “Stone collar?” “Although made of stone, it was very light.” “What happened to the dog?” “It disappeared with my daughter…”

Chu notes the details. “Are you aware of the hauntings at Gushui Street?”

“Hauntings?” Hein looks around blankly. “Never heard… never been there…”

The rest of the conversation is trivial: did they try searching after the disappearance… spare time spent looking in Bize… since the wife’s accident was in Bize, the daughter is likely there… please wait while we continue searching… Chu stands.

“Mr. Hein, deep down you already know,” he says before leaving, “it’s been over half a year. The chances are slim.”

The rotting floorboards sink under that weight. The hopeless man sinks into sorrow like a tide. He sits alone; his voice is barely a whisper.

“At least… I want to bury her myself… if only I could find her remains…”

“I will do my best.” Chu closes the door behind him.

Stepping out of Bangxing Building—the narrow sixteen-story tower—it feels even damper than two weeks ago. Water drips from walls and floors; even standing in the hallway is suffocating. Outside the building is still oppressive, a dark curtain of water blocking light. Weapons hang overhead, poised to fall and shred anyone into pieces.

The sunshine he saw upon arriving was a stroke of luck—this is the true face of Huilong City.

Chu takes a deep breath and looks up. The street is lined with buildings like Bangxing—narrow towers packed tightly, like people bound in chains. Less than a hundred meters behind is the commercial district, a jungle of casinos and bars. There, buildings are spacious and bright; scantily clad women solicit on the streets; beneath colorful neon signs, richly dressed patrons stroll amid a riot of lights and revelry.

Standing in the narrow alley between buildings, one can see both the crumbling old apartments and the dazzling casino lights. Separated by only a single street, they seem worlds apart.

Lü Xing approaches, handing Chu a pack of cigarettes with an understanding smile: “Want one?”

“Quit,” Chu shakes his head. “Bring me a long gun—for exorcism.”