Chapter 120: Welcomed by Snow

“Xue Tinghai…”

Ji Li silently repeated the name in his mind, his expression unchanged.

But the others, upon hearing this news, began to think differently.

“A character possessing no fewer than two Sin Artifacts…”

Just the title alone was enough to make one wary, even though none of them had truly witnessed the power of a Sin Artifact yet.

But the mere fact that it could withstand attacks from ghosts made it clear how rare such items were. And Xue Tinghai possessed not one, but two—or possibly even more.

It was obvious how difficult he would be to confront.

Fang Shenyan raised his empty palm. He knew that once the mission began, the Sin Artifact would manifest on its own.

“We know very little about Sin Artifacts, but I can explain mine—Ghost Eye.”

After much hesitation, Fang Shenyan finally shared this crucial information. Sin Artifacts were still far too rare for the Seventh Branch.

“The function of Ghost Eye is to break illusions. These illusions aren’t mere tricks of the eye—they include spiritual attacks from ghosts.

In other words, I cannot resist a ghost’s direct assault. I have no defensive capability.

Moreover, each time I use it, I will experience mental fatigue and physical weakness. Each activation comes with a cooldown period of thirty minutes.”

This is a Sin Artifact!

Powerful and versatile, yet each use triggers a cooldown and significant side effects.

The cost of using a Sin Artifact could weaken bodily functions; if the effect is stronger, the aftereffects alone could render someone immobile.

It was a double-edged sword.

Fang Shenyan’s Ghost Eye was not combative but functional.

With his explanation, everyone gained a deeper understanding of Sin Artifacts.

However, Ji Li, Yu Guo, and the four veteran staff exchanged glances. From the previous mission, they knew Ghost Eye had another function.

Fang Shenyan’s Ghost Eye could track the movements of other ghosts…

This was its true core ability, though Fang Shenyan had deliberately withheld it, surely for a reason.

Ji Li didn’t press it, instead changing the subject:

“There are Sin Artifacts in joint missions as well, and I suspect the main conflict between us and the Fourth Branch revolves around them.

Given the unusual nature of this mission, the effects of the Sin Artifacts are likely to be even stronger. For us, obtaining them is essential.”

A strange feeling crept over Ji Li.

From the information about Sin Artifacts, he sensed a familiarity—his resurrection effect, the side effects of multiple personas…

Could these be similar to Sin Artifacts?

He knew they weren’t the same—he was human, not an object—but the coincidence left him puzzled.

“Kondo Sei, have you heard of any supernatural occurrences near Kyoto’s Sunset Bridge?” Yu Guo stroked his chin, addressing the only Japanese member of the team.

Kondo Sei seemed uneasy; she hadn’t fully recovered from the shock she had experienced before.

Her expression was dazed, and just listening to Ji Li and the others made her anxious. When Yu Guo suddenly asked, she jumped in surprise.

“Ah? Th-there are… too many…”

“Too many… what do you mean?”

She fiddled with the hem of her clothes, which had become slightly disheveled, though it relieved some of her tension.

“There are many urban legends in Kyoto. Near Sunset Bridge, people often talk about man-eating ghost children and women combing their hair at midnight…”

She kept going, mentioning even the Slit-Mouth Woman and Shuten-doji.

The Japanese tended to believe in such urban tales more than the Chinese, with many still convinced that ghosts truly existed.

In China, such beliefs were rare. Outside of the hotel, most wouldn’t imagine that ghosts were real.

Ji Li waved his hand, realizing he wouldn’t gain anything valuable, and interrupted her, standing from his chair.

“For this mission, Kondo Sei must be preserved as much as possible. She is our eyes and protection in Kyoto.”

Everyone immediately agreed. Losing the local would make the mission far more difficult.

Ji Li glanced at his watch and addressed the staff:

“Five minutes to gather mission supplies. Let’s move quickly and head to Kyoto!”

On November 3rd, the plane cut through the gloomy skies, tracing an invisible white line toward Japan.

In forty minutes, the plane, full of passengers, would land in a foreign land.

It was said that snow was falling in Kyoto. Passengers from Shanming City rarely saw snow this season, and the cabin buzzed with excitement.

Even some Japanese were astonished, as snow in Kyoto at this time of year was almost miraculous.

Ji Li’s pale yet handsome face reflected in the dim windowpane. Throughout the journey, he had been watching the sky.

Even though it was already pitch dark, what fell into his gray-black eyes was nothing but emptiness and indifference.

This was Ji Li’s first time on a plane. He had forgotten his past experiences; his new life had begun in this place called the hotel, which was, in truth, a hell.

He had never been anywhere, and even the registration information had been deliberately falsified by the hotel.

It seemed as if Ji Li’s entire existence was solely for carrying out missions, with no life of his own beyond that.

Yet now his gaze was clear, as if he were not looking into darkness but at drifting snowflakes.

Ji Li knew that Kyoto wouldn’t snow at this time of year. So why was it snowing now?

It had to be the ghosts, aware of their arrival, welcoming them in this way.

From this, one could imagine how strong this ghost must be…

“I’ve heard that snow is beautiful, representing beauty and hope.

It falls from the sky, like fireworks descending from heaven.”

Fang Shenyan sat beside Ji Li, speaking words that didn’t quite feel like his own.

Ji Li finally spoke, uttering his first words in this period of time:

“Snow, born from the clouds, dies upon touching the ground. It represents not hope, but annihilation…”

A dull thud interrupted their conversation. A man in a suit approached from the front row. Passing Fang Shenyan, he stumbled slightly.

The man looked alarmed but remained polite, bowing to the grim-faced Fang Shenyan and muttering something in Japanese, likely an apology, before rushing toward the restroom.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he had slept uneasily during the journey and had been suddenly woken from a nightmare.

He staggered into the restroom, opened the tap, and splashed cold water on his numb face.

The man in the mirror looked even paler, the only color standing out being his bloodshot eyes against the monochrome background.

Suddenly, he widened his eyes. His arms stiffened, extending to the sides, parallel to his shoulders, while his forearms hung limply downward.

His knees bent slightly forward. He took a step, crossing his feet.

His body assumed an awkward, unnatural posture, as if performing a complex, impossible dance.

But upon closer inspection, it looked more like his limbs had been violently twisted into that position.

Crack!

His neck snapped as if someone had grabbed his hair and bent his head backward. His skull fell back.

The man did not collapse. He remained frozen in this puppet-like posture, dead in the restroom.

At this moment, there were only twenty minutes left before arriving in Kyoto.