Lewis’s son froze. His eyes went wide with shock. He quickly waved his hands and stammered, “No, no, Mr. Remington, I’ve just never seen anything like this before. I was only asking out of curiosity!”
“Seen?” Miguel’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife. “From what you’re saying, are you hoping to see a ghost?”
Hearing this, Lewis’s son grew even more terrified. He shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I don’t want to see a ghost!”
In families like the Henderson, belief in ghosts and spirits was common. The wealthier the family, the stronger the belief. Miguel had risen to prominence as a psychic solely because of his precise grasp of the mindset of the rich. Without that knowledge, he wouldn’t dare to speak so boldly to Lewis’s son.
After all, the Henderson family was the second most powerful family in Inassea, with assets in the tens of billions. They were the sort of family that the ordinary could not afford to offend.
Seeing that Lewis’s son had already started to backtrack, Miguel pressed on. He kept boasting about his success in this field. “My reputation, as you know, is well-established, and it’s not something built on empty claims. I’ve already told you the truth about your father’s condition. He is being plagued by an evil spirit, which is draining his life away. If you still don’t believe me, I have nothing more to say. Mr. Leland is here as well. I would never deceive you in his presence. And let me ask you-why would I risk ruining my own name just to mislead you over something like this?”
“You’re right, sir. Please forgive my ignorance,” Lewis’s son hurriedly apologized.
But Miguel wasn’t about to let up. He still clung to the topic. “Did everyone see that? The altar clearly shook just now, and the water bowl shattered into pieces. I’m sure everyone here saw it!”
His eyes swept the courtyard, locking onto each person with an intense, scrutinizing gaze.
“Those marks were left behind by the ghost as it tried to flee, but under my peach-wood sword, escape was impossible. That evil spirit has already met its end. This peach-wood sword has been my companion for years, passed down through generations in my family. It has sent hundreds of, maybe, thousands of evil spirits to their doom. Any demon or specter that dares cross its path quakes in terror and vanishes without a trace. In a moment, I’ll prepare a bowl of talisman water for you, Old Mr. Henderson. Within three days, you’ll be as good as new.”
Lewis’s eyes welled up with gratitude. He clasped his hands and bowed repeatedly. “Thank you, Mr. Remington! Thank you!”
Miguel didn’t bother responding. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and wore an air of smug arrogance!
Lewis spun toward his son. His face twisted in anger as he snapped, “You brat! Watch what you say!”
Then, he turned back to Miguel, bowing deeply with an apologetic smile. “I must apologize, Mr. Remington. My son is ignorant and knows nothing of your greatness. Please, don’t take offense.”
Not wasting another moment, he barked at his son again. “Hurry! Bring money for Miguel, and make sure to add an extra hundred thousand!”
At the mention of an extra hundred thousand, a wide grin spread across Miguel’s face, and his lips curled so much it seemed they might never close.
Beside him, Mr. Leland chuckled softly as well. “Old Mr. Henderson, rest assured. Mr. Remington’s skills in this field are nothing short of extraordinary. He is hailed as a Demigod, and it isn’t just a title. It’s a testament to his unrivaled abilities.”
Out of nowhere, a cold, mocking laugh pierced the air. It was Kayden.
The laugh rang out just as Mr. Leland finished his praise. The sound cut through the room like a sharp blade, and everyone turned their attention to the source.
Miguel’s smug expression stiffened. His brows furrowed as his gaze locked onto Kayden.
Kayden didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. Instead, he stepped forward with confidence, his posture straight, exuding a quiet defiance that seemed to challenge Miguel’s authority.
When Lewis realized who had stepped forward, his eyes widened in shock, and his mouth fell wide open as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Before Lewis could utter a word, Mr. Leland’s cold voice cut through the air. “What are you laughing at?”
Lewis snapped out of his daze, shifted awkwardly in his seat, and asked tentatively, “Defender, what brings you here?”
Despite the simmering resentment Lewis still harbored from Kayden and Wood’s actions last time, Kayden’s arrival was enough to bring forward his fear. After all, Kayden was a man with the authority to command regional troops with a snap of his fingers. Who in their right mind would dare to cross someone like that?
“My apologies for not preparing a proper welcome,” Lewis said, his whole posture poised as if to rise.
Kayden waved him off mid-motion. “No need for formalities. Stay seated. Your health matters more.”
Kayden took a few steps forward. “What’s going on with you, Old Mr. Henderson?”
Miguel parted his lips, looking like he was about to speak, but Mr. Leland stopped him with a raised hand. Mr. Leland’s keen eye had already discerned the extraordinary nature of Kayden. Anyone who commanded this level of respect from Lewis Henderson was clearly no ordinary man.
A shadow passed over Lewis’s face. His expression sank, and with it, his whole demeanor seemed to collapse into a heavy gloom. The once-dignified man now appeared frail.
“It’s a long story,” he muttered bitterly. “The kind of problem neither science nor medicine can solve. If it were that simple, I’d have sought your help long ago.” His face was painted with sadness, like a canvas of quiet suffering.
Kayden raised a brow, feigning surprise. “Is it really that serious? Why not tell me? Maybe I can help. Just please tell me more details.”
But Lewis’s face darkened further. He shook his head slowly, helplessly, as if the words were too heavy to form.
Miguel was unable to hold back any longer. He snorted and shuffled forward. His voice rang out with a mocking edge. “Anyone with an ounce of sense could see it-he’s suffering from the torment by an evil spirit! And you’re still asking clueless questions? Makes you seem a bit ignorant, young man!”
Kayden’s gaze shifted to Miguel and lingered for a brief moment before sliding back to Lewis. He didn’t dignify the outburst with a reply. Instead, he fixed his steady attention on Lewis.
Lewis looked as though he were dredging up a memory he feared to face. His face flickered between expressions of dread and disbelief.
He was torn between staying silent and telling the truth. After a long, tortured silence, he finally let out a heavy sigh. He told the story, his voice barely above a whisper. “It was about five days ago. I had a strange, unsettling nightmare. In the dream, I was carrying a bag, though I couldn’t tell what was inside. I wanted to see, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. So, I just kept walking, moving forward without knowing where I was going. After a while, I realized I had walked all the way home!”
“The house was filled with white flowers-everywhere, even by the door. I knew that only the dead were honored with such a display. But who had died in my family? With that haunting thought, I stepped inside. As I made my way into the main hall, I was struck by the sight of a mourning altar set up in the middle of the room. And there, on the table, was my own photograph. A pale, faded image of myself! The moment I saw it, I suddenly noticed that my family was all dressed in black, paying their respects to me. They stood in a silent line, like mourners at a funeral, waiting their turn to honor me. I called out to them, one by one, but none of them seemed to hear me. None of them could see me.”
“I was frozen with fear, my heart racing. For a moment, I thought I had really died! But when I woke up the next morning, the crushing weight of the nightmare lifted, and I realized it had all been just a dream. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had narrowly escaped death. Despite how vivid and lifelike it felt, and how eerily close to what I imagine death would look like, it was just a dream… or so I told myself.”
“But then, the strangest thing happened. The next day, when I went into the hall, my sons came to me, one after another, and they said the same thing-something that completely unnerved me. They had all had the same dream. They had dreamt that I had died, that the family was holding my funeral, just as I had seen in my nightmare. Everyone was crying, just like in my dream. Or maybe it’s not a dream. It’s a prediction.”
“From me to my youngest grandchild who was barely old enough to remember anything, to even the servants-everyone, without exception, had the exact same dream.”