"Jiejie... Ao..." It let out another strange cry. Why? When I pulled the red rope, the rope buckle broke out of the ground and just happened to be on its hand. This was all calculated. Even if it didn't jump, it would still be on its foot if it stepped on it.
This damn thing was quite clever, and immediately lit a fire of Yin Wood, burning the red rope. But it was only a few meters away from us, and I had already rushed forward when I pulled the red rope. When the red rope broke, I also fell forward. Just as the red rope was burned to ashes in an instant, I twisted the arm of this damn thing and slapped the ghost-suppressing talisman that I had prepared long ago on its chest.
It screamed "Ah" again, struggled hard, broke free from my hand, and ran forward. This damn thing is too strong. Even if there is a ghost-suppressing talisman on the ghost's chest, it will be sealed and unable to move. But it can still run forward!
But I overestimated it, so I ran forward a few steps and fell to the ground. I ran after it and put another ghost-suppressing talisman on its back. I turned around and whispered to Tongxuan who was dumbfounded, "Bring your ghost-collecting altar here."
"Oh, here it comes. Here it comes." Tongxuan ran over with the backpack and threw it in front of me.
"Take it out." I thought to myself, "Can't you see that my buddy is twisting his arm and can't move his hands? I'm so unlucky to meet a fool like you."
"My backpack couldn't be opened just now. I guess it was blocked by an evil spirit." The boy explained to me seriously.
I was so angry that I almost sprayed holy water on his face. The backpack contained Taoist magic tools. Which ghost would dare to touch it? The more I looked at his head, the bigger it got. In the end, I gave him a comment: "A pig's head on a stupid donkey's neck!"
Shen Bing trotted over, shone the flashlight on the zipper of the backpack, and opened it after a few adjustments: "The zipper is pressed against the edge, of course it can't be opened."
Tongxuan's face flushed and he kept scratching his head, forgetting to take out the ghost-collecting altar. When I urged him, he hurriedly took out the thing and handed it to me. The ghost-collecting altar is a small porcelain jar as big as a hand warmer. When it was fired, the spell to suppress ghosts was engraved on it, and then painted with cinnabar, which has the power to seal ghosts.
I asked Shen Bing to open the lid of the jar and aim at the damn ghost to capture it.
“Grandpa, I’ll tell you everything, just don’t take me in… Woohoo, I have an 80-year-old mother and a baby, please forgive me!” This damn thing actually used the old-fashioned begging lines from TV to fool me.
"What are you talking about? I didn't ask." I said angrily and amusedly.
"Master, just ask me. I promise to tell you everything I know without missing a word." This damn guy must have been a businessman when he was alive, and a profiteer at that, with a very smooth tongue.
This kind of thing is usually not loyal to its master, so it will definitely tell the truth. So I asked him, "Who is your master?"
"Landon!"
□□Second uncle, it's still Bin Laden. I exerted force on my hand, and the little rascal screamed: "Uncle, I'm not lying, why are you so cruel?"
It seemed that he was not lying, so I asked him, "Who is Landon?"
"Landon is Landon. I only know his name, but not the rest... Ouch, sir, I'm telling the truth. I heard the master's name secretly, and I can't even remember my own name. He is so cruel. He never lets me see his true face and always orders me to go out and hurt people." This little rascal almost got his arm twisted into a knot by me, and he was sweating profusely from the pain.
"You know where he is now, right?" I asked.
"I know, I know. They went to the waterhole last night."
I was shocked. These twelve ghosts were burned to death by my underground fire, so why would they go there