97: Chapter 97: The Case Solved?

Elizabeth looked at the mass of black mist, smiling triumphantly.

"You've hidden for decades, concealed within this mortal body, thinking I wouldn't find you?"

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain w̆̈̆̈k̆̈̆̈̆̈ă̈̆̈n̆̈̆̈.c̆̈̆̈ŏ̈̆̈m̆̈̆̈ for easy reading]

Her voice was soft, but every word was like a knife: "You are too weak. So weak you can't even maintain a stable possession."

The black mist struggled in her hand, but it could not break free.

His power was draining away, sucked out by Elizabeth's hand.

Sean stood to the side, watching all of this.

By now, he finally understood. It turned out Elizabeth had been looking for this fellow all along; he had been used as a tool once again.

However, just as Sean thought the black mist was about to be absorbed, Ratchet finally spoke.

"Finally... I've finally waited for someone."

A chill ran down Sean's back.

He looked at Ratchet. Her eyes were no longer light brown; they had turned black, pure black, like two black holes.

She looked at Elizabeth, then at Sean, her gaze shifting back and forth between the two.

"You think I'm done for? Yes... I am failing, but I have been waiting for someone to come, constantly accumulating strength."

"What you've caught is nothing more than a dog!"

Elizabeth's hand froze.

She looked down at the struggling mass of black mist in her hand, then back at Ratchet.

The black mist in Elizabeth's hand grew weaker and weaker, its power drained, its form dissipating.

But it didn't resist, didn't struggle—it even laughed.

On that blurred face, the corners of its mouth curled up slightly, like someone who had finally completed a mission.

Ratchet stood up from the chair. Her body was still twitching, but her steps were steady.

She looked at Sean, those black-hole-like eyes incredibly eerie: "I have lived in this body for nearly eighty years. Eighty years, waiting for someone to come, waiting for a new, better body."

Her gaze landed on Sean.

"You have many auras on you." She smiled, a smile that made the hair on the back of Sean's neck stand up. "You are the most perfect vessel I have ever seen."

Sean took a step back.

Elizabeth let go, and the black mist fell to the ground, scattering into a thin smoke before vanishing.

The Low-level Demon had been sucked dry and died.

But Ratchet... or rather, the thing inside Ratchet's body, was still there.

It looked at Sean like a feast it had waited too long for.

Ratchet took a step forward.

Sean's magic surged within him, and golden light poured from his body, blocking the way in front of him.

But that light was like a thin sheet of paper before it.

It reached out, its hand passing through the golden light as if through air, reaching for Sean's neck.

Then it stopped.

Its body froze in place, hand suspended in mid-air, only centimeters away from Sean's throat.

Its eyes widened. For the first time, something else appeared in those black-hole eyes—not fear, but confusion.

"You..."

It had only uttered one word before its voice caught.

The golden book in Sean's mind lit up.

Blinding golden light erupted from Sean's body, ten times, a hundred times stronger than the magic he had released himself. The light slammed into Ratchet, sending her flying back into the wall, which cracked upon impact.

It fell to the ground, twitching and struggling to stand, but it couldn't.

The golden book emerged directly from Sean's mind, hovering before him.

The pages flipped open automatically, and the blank page pointed toward Ratchet.

The page was glowing, as if summoning, as if waiting.

Ratchet looked at the book, her face filled with extreme terror!

To the side, Elizabeth was stunned, staring blankly at Sean and the golden book before him, her eyes blinking rapidly.

In her heart... she suddenly felt a wave of relief.

Sean took a step forward. The golden book hovered before him, its golden light growing brighter, pages rustling as they flipped like they were caught in a gale.

It struggled to stand, but the golden light was like a wall, pinning it to the ground, unable to move.

"What on earth are you?" Its voice trembled, no longer that deep demonic tone, but a sharp, piercing screech.

Sean didn't answer.

He didn't know how to answer!

Most importantly, he didn't even know what he was himself!

He raised his hand, and the golden book flew into his palm, feeling heavy.

He opened the book and pointed the blank page at Ratchet.

"No—!"

Ratchet screamed.

Its body began to turn transparent, seemingly about to be sucked directly into the book.

Black mist peeled away from it, flowing into the golden book strand by strand.

Ratchet's face twisted in the golden light. That porcelain-white face was no longer Ratchet's, but that of another person—young, features distorted, with red eyes like two dying embers.

It opened its mouth, screaming silently.

The last strand of black mist was sucked into the book.

The pages snapped shut with a dull thud, like the sound of a door closing.

Ratchet's body went limp, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, her face as white as paper.

Sean ignored her, merely looking down at the golden book in his hand.

The book had become heavier. The pattern on the cover was glowing brightly, pulsing like a beating heart.

He could feel the black mist churning inside the book, struggling, being compressed, and then falling silent.

It hadn't been destroyed; it had been absorbed.

Just like the darkness of Hill Manor, just like the things that squeezed through from the other side of the door.

The golden book swallowed it, digested it, and turned it into... memories.

Suddenly, many things flooded into Sean's mind.

Not his own, but the demon's.

Eighty years of memories flashed before his eyes like a movie.

Those people sealed within the walls were the staff and patients of Lucia State Hospital.

Nurses, orderlies, cleaners, cooks, patients—vibrant lives, one by one, sealed into the walls by the demon's own hands.

Sean saw their faces.

Nurse Emily Black, twenty-seven years old, went missing in 1949.

Orderly James Carter, thirty-five years old, went missing in 1950.

Patient Lucille Baker, forty-one years old, went missing in 1951.

Cleaner Maria Gonzalez, twenty-nine years old, went missing in 1952.

Cook Robert Taylor, forty-four years old, went missing in 1953.

Names flooded in like a tide, one after another, bringing their faces, their voices, and their screams before death.

Sean closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and began to recite this information one by one.

Ballard stood beside him, the recording interface on her phone still lit up, her fingers flying across the screen as she took notes.

Her expression was calm, but Sean saw her hands trembling slightly; she was clearly quite emotional.

After Sean finished reciting the last one, he looked at Ballard and asked, "Is this enough?"

Ballard looked at the names on her phone screen for a long time, then looked up at Sean, her eyes shining. "It's enough!"

Her voice was clearly thick with gratitude. "With names, identities, and times of disappearance, this is enough!"