Companion Spirits

Name: Chu Ge

Identity: Companion Ghost Spirit

Potential: ???

Status: Not Activated (Companion for 15 Years)

Level: 1 (Common Tier)

Experience: 0/100

Skill: Clear Mind and Focus (MAX) (Skill Points: 5)

Activated Check-in Location: Low-Tier Ghost Spirit Space

Current Check-in Days: 14

Total Accumulated Check-ins: 5461

(Note: You may retroactively check in at any location at any time. The tier of the location affects the rewards obtained.)

…

“Today makes fifteen years.”

Inside the ghost spirit space, Chu Ge stared at the status panel in front of him and let out a long breath.

It had been exactly fifteen years since he arrived in this world.

For those fifteen years, he had been trapped in this tiny space—unable to leave, unable to see anything outside. It felt like solitary confinement, the kind where you’re locked in a pitch-black room.

Most people would’ve gone insane long ago.

Ghost spirits were no different.

Fifteen years of isolation was more than enough for a ghost spirit to lose most of its self-awareness, leaving behind nothing but faint instincts.

Chu Ge had been lucky.

From the very beginning, he’d discovered that he had a system, and that one of the skills on his panel was Clear Mind and Focus.

Clear Mind and Focus: Allows you to ignore most external disturbances and concentrate entirely on a single task, gaining greater insight and experience from it.

The system itself was simple—a check-in system.

Check-ins could accumulate over time, and missed ones could be made up later.

The first check-in location he activated was the Low-Tier Ghost Spirit Space.

The experience gained from checking in there brought him up to level one, officially making him a common-tier ghost spirit. The rewards from this location were skill points.

After spending nine skill points, he maxed out Clear Mind and Focus, and that was what truly saved him from the endless black void.

Clear Mind and Focus (MAX): Completely ignore external conditions and focus all attention on a single task. Gain massive insight and experience, with enhanced comprehension and a gradual increase in intelligence.

It was a purely auxiliary skill, meant for learning—but in this environment, it worked miracles.

Chu Ge could immerse himself entirely in his memories.

He rewatched movies, reread novels, listened to music, even reviewed things he’d learned back when he was human—all while ignoring the empty darkness of the ghost spirit space.

Even so, after doing that for so many years, he was starting to feel worn down.

The reason was simple.

There was nothing left to learn.

He’d learned musical instruments just by listening to background music. From Detective Conan, he’d memorized over a thousand different airtight murder methods. Horror movies had helped him figure out countless applications of ghostly energy.

He’d even picked up cinematography—camera movement, shot composition—just from watching too many films.

Eventually, when there was nothing new to gain from a movie, even the skill couldn’t keep his mind steady anymore.

If things kept going like this, his consciousness would slowly fade away.

Thankfully, today marked the fifteenth year.

He was finally about to be freed.

In this world, infants choose a low-tier ghost spirit vessel when they turn one year old.

The ghost sealed inside those vessels varies widely—some strong, some weak. Wealthy families usually prepare a vessel in advance for their children. Poorer families, on the other hand, have no choice but to take their child to a designated institution and draw one at random.

After that comes fifteen years of symbiotic nurturing.

During this time, the child carries the ghost vessel with them at all times, constantly absorbing the ghostly energy inside it, which in turn nourishes their own life force.

The two exist in symbiosis.

If one dies, the other suffers severe backlash and enters a weakened state.

When the child turns sixteen, they are guided through the process of awakening their companion ghost spirit.

And today—after fifteen long years—was the day Chu Ge would be awakened.

At the same time, in the outside world…

“Why hasn’t the teacher shown up yet? It’s almost nine.”

“Yeah, I’m freaking out. It’s like I’m waiting to be executed—the blade’s already on the table, but the executioner hasn’t shown up.”

“Okay… deep breaths, deep breaths—wait, huh? My ghost space just shook!”

“That’s a good sign. It means your ghost is still alive and healthy. The ones with no reaction are the unlucky ones—those ghosts are either half-dead or already gone.”

“Damn it, my bottle hasn’t reacted at all!”

“Then you’re screwed. If you can’t become a Ghost Tamer, you’ll just be a disposable laborer for the rest of your life.”

…

Inside the spacious classroom sat dozens of sixteen-year-old boys and girls, chatting quietly.

Most of them were visibly nervous.

Only those from wealthy families looked excited and confident.

In one corner, a soft-looking girl sat quietly with her head lowered slightly. A few strands of hair swayed in front of her forehead as she nervously rubbed a black prayer bead in her hand.

As she listened to the discussions around her, her anxiety only grew stronger.

Awakening a ghost spirit and becoming a Ghost Tamer depended heavily on luck.

And her family had never been lucky.

Her father’s ghost spirit had died, leaving his body permanently weakened. Her mother had always been in poor health and didn’t have a ghost spirit of her own.

Now, the family’s only hope rested on her.

If her ghost spirit awakened successfully, she’d become a Ghost Tamer—able to earn points, support her family, and qualify for the base’s subsidies for Ghost Tamer households.

But if she failed…

Without points, the entire family would be reduced to survival labor—

Living off minimal rations and existing solely to produce more offspring.

She would also be bound by the base’s regulations. If she wasn’t married by eighteen, she’d either be chosen by a Ghost Tamer or forcibly matched with a stranger.

Before turning thirty, she would be required to give birth to at least five children to earn permanent residency rights within the base.

If she failed to do even that, she’d be assigned mandatory tasks—

Such as luring ghost creatures or scouting dangerous areas.

At that point, her life would be on a countdown.

The thought made her feel weak and powerless. Yet she couldn’t deny that it was precisely these brutal rules that had allowed humanity to survive.

Over a hundred years ago, the human population had dropped to less than a tenth of its former size. Cities had fallen, and people had been forced into hiding.

Now, humanity had rebounded. Base cities had been established across the land—fortified, permanent safe zones that would never fall.

“Qianqian! I’m here, I’m here!”

Just as she was lost in thought, a clear, lively voice sounded beside her. Before Luo Qianqian could even turn her head, someone had already slipped into the seat next to her, bringing with them a faint, pleasant scent.

The girl leaned in and whispered quickly.

“The teacher’s right behind me—almost here!”

“Got it…” Luo Qianqian nodded, tightening her grip on the prayer bead.

As they spoke, the bead in her palm trembled slightly, releasing a faint woody fragrance.

At the same time, the red string bracelet on her friend’s wrist darkened in color.

“Holy shit—blood!”

Up front, a student suddenly jolted and flung something out of his hand, shouting in shock.

At that moment, many of the students’ ghost spirit spaces reacted violently.

Seven or eight of them, however, showed no reaction at all.

At the classroom doorway, a pitch-black figure appeared silently.

The figure wore a cloak. The exposed hands were pale and deeply wrinkled, unnaturally white.

Slowly, the cloak was removed, revealing a face as aged and lifeless as a corpse.

“Quiet.”

The voice was hoarse.

The instant it sounded, every noise in the classroom vanished.

It wasn’t that the students had gone silent.

Their sounds had simply ceased to exist.

Startled, the students all turned toward the door, then immediately straightened in their seats, not daring to make a sound.

The teacher had arrived.