Exorcist's Self-Cultivation

Inside the ruins.

A strange change was happening quietly, the temperature was dropping lower and lower, and everything within sight seemed to be covered with a layer of frosted glass, appearing slightly hazy.

And in these ruins.

From time to time, the sound of a piano was heard, its lingering music revealing an inexplicable sadness, inevitably bringing down one's mood.

It was as if emotions were out of control.

It was a funeral march.

Even Du Wei was affected.

His mind flashed with many fragmented images, those buried deep in his heart, known only to him and the Evil Spirit Du Wei.

Of course...

Pennywise, turned into a power bank, also knew.

Something was very wrong.

Du Wei frowned and looked around.

There was still some distance from the graveyard, with only the collapsed buildings where psychiatric patients lived nearby, and further ahead was the square and the clock tower-like structure where the director resided.

Past the clock tower-like building was the destination.

Brand, standing by, thought for a moment then said, "Your Excellency the Duke, this is a funeral march, and if I remember correctly, it should be the one created by Ryan Hamel for his deceased lover."

"No, he's already dead. This piece shouldn't be played by anyone; could he have left some sort of trump card?"

There were many different versions of the funeral march.

Besides those created by famous composers, some musicians would also alter the tunes or create similar pieces for the occasion.

As for Ryan Hamel's lover...

That would be Freddy's mother, the old woman who was more than twenty years his senior.

Hearing this, Du Wei said with his head down, "It's not necessarily that he left a trump card, it's possible that what we're facing now is the man himself."

Although he said...

Du Wei was reluctant to speak out about Ryan's predicament, knowing the trouble it could cause Ryan if the matter came to light.

Not sharing information didn't mean he couldn't reveal the most crucial core.

Upon hearing this, Brand's expression changed instantly.

He asked, "Your Excellency the Duke, you must know that Ryan Hamel's death was because he emerged from Hell's Gate with the thirteenth member of the Vanity Sect gravely injured, and the two of them had a conflict."

"As a result, the thirteenth member died, and Ryan Hamel also lost his life."

"Even if Ryan Hamel was strong enough during that period, he couldn't possibly have lived to this day."

Many events of the past had been buried in history.

Only those who had witnessed everything firsthand could discern the truth.

Du Wei had not witnessed it himself.

But he knew a lot of information.

For instance, twenty years ago, the predecessor of Hill Psychiatric Hospital was a church, where a dying blond exorcist came and left behind items like an antique clock and a mask.

So.

Du Wei spoke, "Based on the current situation, it's logical to deduce that Ryan Hamel probably died in this psychiatric hospital, and the mask, as well as the Demon Spirit, might be with him as well."

It was quite an assertive statement.

Although Brand respected Du Wei, he was not without brains.

He immediately voiced his own doubts, "What is your judgment based on?"

Du Wei snapped his fingers.

The envelope immediately floated out from his pocket.

Brand had an epiphany: "So it's the Evil Spirit Envelope. I almost forgot that such a strange thing existed by your side."

"You had already grasped everything in secret."

In his mind, he mused, "Worthy of His Excellency the Duke, even two centuries out of his time, his wisdom and methods are still admirable."

"Despite having everything under control, he doesn't make a direct move but lets me showcase my abilities."

"I must not disappoint His Excellency the Duke's high expectations."

Truthfully, if it weren't for someone like Brand, who held such high admiration for the Evil Spirit Du Wei, no one would have thought this way.

It was obvious that he was being used as a pawn.

If it were someone else, they would have been on guard in secret a long time ago.

And floating outside, the envelope with its side facing Du Wei suddenly sprouted a line of text.

[Damn! What the fuck is up with this idiot, why do I feel he's even more sycophantic than my envelope? Master, you must screw him over. Motherfucking Brand is definitely a traitor; don't be fooled by his acting.]

Instinctively.

The envelope felt its status threatened.

It had always despised Brand, or rather Corrine Dowqui.

With the addition of new grudges to the old ones, it wanted him dead even more.

Du Wei, as if he hadn't seen a thing, directly grabbed the envelope and stuffed it back into his pocket.

What he said, however, was, "Brand, I hope you won't take things lightly, because what we're going to face next may not just be Ryan Hamel, but possibly Demon Spirits, and maybe even the monstrous beings that became after the thirteenth person died."

He had already thought of everything possible.

Brand also said solemnly, "Please rest assured, I will not disappoint you."

With that, he waved his hand.

The sound of the mournful music that could still be heard just a moment ago suddenly disappeared.

Everything within the range of Brand and Du Wei became silent.

The only sounds audible were the voices of their conversation.

It was Brand's ability to isolate sound.

Du Wei hadn't entrusted everything to Brand.

His shadow was restless and twisting.

In case of danger, the shadow was ready to act at any moment to take him away from there.

The envelope was the same.

In Du Wei's pocket, there were also dice, coins wedged in his wallet, and a Joker Card.

They could all come in handy at a critical moment.

As for himself.

The pattern of a watch hand was now clearly visible on the back of his right hand.

He silently said to himself, "I have the shadow on me, evil spirits of hundreds of students in my dreams, and even the Demon Nun locked in the deepest part. These trump cards are actually enough for my needs."

"But I can't help wanting to Mark a few more powerful ones."

Brand was unaware of Du Wei's wild thoughts; he just moved forward, leading the way on his own.

…

In the desolate graveyard.

The cold gale howled, whipping across the broken steles, stirring up sand and stones with a forlorn sound.

Yet.

Within this sound of wind, the piano music was unaffected.

It spread in a manner that defied the rules of reality, crystal clear.

The entire sky darkened immensely.

Clouds gathered heavily...

Above the grave of Ryan Hamel in the sky, thunder and lightning were converging, as if ready to strike down at any moment.

It seemed, a storm was about to arrive.

Suddenly...

A cracking sound emerged.

Like a prelude, a bolt of lightning struck down and with a thunderous crash, dust was thrown into the air; the tombstone of Ryan Hamel broke apart, the lower half stained with electric black marks.

Looking down further, as the dust settled,

A stone coffin was revealed, and it had opened slightly.

Drip...

A drop of rain fell, disappearing precisely into the crack…