Chapter 50

"It's a complicated barter between spirits, so I don't have to explain it to you."

Afterwards, Uriel never argued back again.

It seemed like Sinclair really didn't want to further talk about it, so he just dropped it altogether.

The azure ghost slowly guided him back to the borderline and said farewell before finally going out to the surface again.

He carried his kerosene lamp back to the house and slept like nothing happened again.

He remembered Olia Isema saying ghosts aren't real, but thought they're real and more genuine than some humans could ever be.

And with that thought in mind, he fell asleep into a dreamless unconsciousness. As he wandered between life and death with his senses completely shut off, the world seemed to have been paused.

Meanwhile, the time flow for the spirits went on quite slowly especially for the azure ghost Sinclair.

"I was going to get angry at you for stealing my prey, but you actually seemed to be fond of that kid," A blue ghost said. "Were you perhaps related to him when you were alive?"

"Don't be stupid," Sinclair answered. "I was born along with the great war that happened thousands of years ago. There's no way I'm related to that kid."

"Then a descendant perhaps?"

"No, I'm not related to him in any way. Don't ask for anything more. I'm not interested in entertaining your questions. And one more thing, leave that kid alone and hunt for other humans if you like."

Before hearing anything more from the contemptuous ghost from before, Sinclair immediately took off towards his cave.

He reassured the safety of his flowers and finally went to the deepest part of the forest where he entered one of the portals.

The dimension brought him into a golden age city of flourishing philosophy and liberal arts. He entered one of a secluded vintage shop secretly since a ghost's presence in those kinds of places are seen as shameful and pitiful.

Living as a spirit wasn't as liberating and different from living as a human as long as a creature possesses emotions and freedom.

The owner welcomed him in, nevertheless and promoted the masks. He chose a particularly accurate measurement of Uriel's face and decided to buy it.

"Are you sure about this?" The shop's owner asked one more time. "It might be hard for your peace of mind. Besides, this kind of small mask doesn't seem to be for a woman's face, which means it isn't for romantic purposes. Or is it?"

Sinclair sighed, grabbed the mask, and showed off his arm. "Don't go scrutinizing my intentions, old geezer. Just hurry up and get the payment."

"Cool off. I'm just asking for a little insurance, since the cost is high and spirits tend to come back with spite and regret about purchasing the mask in exchange for their lifeline and reincarnation."

"I don't care. I won't come back here after this."

The shop's owner begins processing the payment by clutching Sinclair's arm and sucking off a plenty of his lifetime.

"Now that this has been brought up, it really is reasonable to purchase at this season. It's the spirits' festival tomorrow night, isn't it?"

Sinclair didn't answer to completely cut off the conversation.

The owner commented about how cold he is, but ultimately got ignored before finally getting off the shop and returning to the deep forest.

He came back to his cave and rested among his glowing deep blue roses with the mask beside him.

Staring at the mask reminds him of how he thinks of himself as getting more and more ridiculous by encounter.

"Am I getting too bored with living as a spirit or have I really gotten myself into trouble?"

Whichever the answer only ends up being a comical and idiotic conclusion for him.