Soul Hunting

The moment I opened my eyes, an almost suffocating calm filled the room.

The minimalist IKEA - style furniture cast geometric shadows in the morning light, and the air - conditioner vent hummed softly. It was an ordinary morning, but each death had made me more perceptive, as if constantly reminding me of the true nature of this world.

I silently put on my dark - gray suit and tied my tie, my movements as precise as a sophisticated instrument. The man in the mirror was expressionless, yet his eyes were unusually clear. This calmness didn't stem from courage but from something deeper - when you've died too many times, even fear seems so distant.

"Honey, breakfast is ready!" The familiar voice came from outside the door.

I paid no attention, continuing with my morning routine. The Wife was still there; I could sense her presence, just as I could feel the icy moisture in the air. But this time, I chose to completely ignore her. There was no anger, no fear, not even a hint of disgust.

While brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I saw the reflection in the mirror suddenly distort, and a pale face emerged from the steam. I just calmly spat out the toothpaste, dried my face with a towel. The Wife's shrill screams echoed in my ears, but they seemed as if they were coming from behind a frosted glass, so distant and irrelevant.

When you understand the true meaning of death, staying alive becomes a choice.

The elevator descended slowly from the fifth floor, the numbers flickering on the display. I stood in the corner, looking at the reflection in the mirrored wall: a young man in a well - tailored suit, and the distorted figure looming behind him. The Wife was still trying various ways to get my attention, but every attempt ended in failure.

In the apartment lobby, I met the little girl. She was wearing a pink dress with a unicorn pattern, holding a matching schoolbag, looking innocent and cute. If you could ignore the glint of greed in her eyes that was far beyond her age.

"Sir, can you see me?" she asked, tilting her head, her voice sickly sweet.

I walked straight through her body as if passing through a wisp of nothingness. Behind me, there was a teeth - grating sound of bones twisting, but I didn't turn back. Some things, once seen through, can never deceive you again.

The streets of Evegreen City woke up in the morning light, revealing their true appearance.

Michigan Avenue was bustling with traffic, and business - suited office workers hurried by. But in my eyes, this scene had too many details that ordinary people couldn't see: a headless man in an Armani suit was waiting for the traffic light; a woman with a deformed creature perched on her shoulder was queuing in front of Starbucks; several child - like Specters were chasing and playing on the street, their laughter carrying a spine - chilling echo.

I stood on the sidewalk, observing this absurd scene. Memories of two worlds intertwined in my mind: on one hand, the ordinary life of an ordinary college student, and on the other, the life of a salesman who had been killed eighteen times by Specters. Now that I thought about it, perhaps it was this dual memory that allowed me to see the truth of this world so clearly.

After careful observation, I began to systematically analyze the nature of Specters. They clearly fell into two levels, and the differences were far more fundamental than just their outward forms.

Lower - level Specters were like wild beasts. Their forms often exuded a kind of violent beauty: distorted limbs, misshapen organs, and structures that defied any biological principles. Their behavior patterns were extremely simple - tear, devour, and destroy. I saw a lower - level Specter try to attack a passing pedestrian, but its claws just passed through the person's body without causing any harm. This confirmed a key feature: although lower - level Specters looked terrifying, they couldn't actually affect the physical world. They were like a nightmare; no matter how scary, they left no trace after waking up.

Higher - level Specters, on the other hand, were completely different. "The Wife is a perfect example," I thought. They had astonishing intelligence and patience, and could perfectly imitate human behavior. For example, right now, I saw a "businessman" in a suit dealing with documents at the entrance of a coffee shop - if you ignored his occasionally distorted facial features and the black substance churning under his skin. Higher - level Specters knew how to disguise, how to wait, and more importantly, how to make their existence seem "reasonable." They would choose specific identities and occasions, like a little girl walking alone, a late - night working clerk, or an early - morning jogging old man. These roles not only wouldn't arouse suspicion but also made it easy for them to approach potential "observers."

By comparing and analyzing these two types of Specters, a crucial understanding gradually took shape: they both needed to be perceived by humans to affect reality, but they used this characteristic in very different ways.

Lower - level Specters were like hungry beasts. They would desperately try to attract attention: creating commotion at the edge of one's vision, making strange noises, or even directly showing their terrifying forms. This crude approach often had the opposite effect - most people would instinctively choose to ignore these "things that shouldn't exist." Just like now, a spiky - covered Specter was dancing wildly across the street, but the passing crowd just subconsciously avoided that area, and no one even stopped to take a look.

Higher - level Specters, however, adopted a more cunning strategy. They would create some "reasonable anomalies": a strange acquaintance encountered on the way to work, a suddenly - appearing empty seat in the office, or a faint reflection in the elevator. These subtle feelings of unease would gradually accumulate until someone started to doubt, to observe. "It's like fishing," I silently summarized, "lower - level Specters are thrashing around on the water's surface, while higher - level Specters are patiently waiting for the fish to take the bait."

Human supernatural experiences - those faint auditory hallucinations, momentary illusions, were actually Specters' attempts to test, to find people who could "see" them. Once they found a target, higher - level Specters would show astonishing patience. They would slowly approach, lurk, and wait until they were sure the other person could really see them. Then, just like what The Wife did to me, they would start their real hunt.

The vibration of my phone interrupted my thoughts. It was a message from the work group of Oak Academy.

"Alex, this is your third absence this month. If this continues, your year - end bonus will be deducted." Jack Thompson's tone was filled with concern, which made him my only friend in this world.

I looked at the screen and suddenly realized that continuing to play the role of an ordinary salesman was meaningless. "I've decided to resign. I'll come to settle my commission this afternoon."

"What? If you leave before the end of the year, 30% of your commission will be deducted!"

I turned off my phone and hailed an Uber. The driver was a young man listening to some pop song. He didn't notice at all that the woman with disheveled hair in the backseat was staring at him through the rear - view mirror. I could see that Specter licking her lips, her eyes shining with greed. But as long as no one "saw" it, it could never really harm anyone.

This thought made me sink into contemplation. The Wife killed me eighteen times because I "saw" her. And now, I could not only see all the Specters but also understand their nature. This ability was both a curse and a weapon. Perhaps, this was the key to my survival in this world.

Outside the car window, the city scenery kept changing. A blood - soaked man in a suit was intently looking at his phone; a group of nuns who seemed to have stepped out of a medieval painting were wandering at the crossroads; a huge, eye - covered sphere was floating between the office buildings. This world was crazier than anyone could imagine, and I was ready to face this madness.

In this world, not being able to see is a blessing. I thought silently, but since I've seen, let's play a game of hunter and prey.

This time, I was going to be the hunter.