Chapter 92: The Changing Portrait


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    The sun finally broke through the horizon, signaling the start of a new day.


    Miles had remained vignt throughout the dark hours, seated stoically within the dimly lit mourning hall. Even though fatigue hadnt overtaken him, the sheer emotional and mental stress from the situation had taken its toll. Hours upon hours of continuous surveince of the coffin in the hall, expecting any form of paranormal activity would undoubtedly drain anyone. To put it bluntly, this kind of tension could bring even the toughest person to their knees.


    Yet, there was something unusual about Miles at this moment. He wasnt entirely human, and this perhaps exined why he hadnt sought any respite. When facing such crucial circumstances, enduring extreme exhaustion bes a necessity.


    Staring at the coffin, Miles mused, The coffin hasnt been tampered with or disturbed all night. Not once did any malevolent entity confront me during my watch. It seems my prior assumptions were indeed urate. His eyes, though, told another story. They were a deep shade of red, so intense that even without his supernatural sight, one could mistake them as belonging to a ghost.


    The risk he had taken the previous night was not a small one. He had attempted to understand the connection between the malicious ghosts and this particr coffin. From what he could piece together, not one but both the troubled souls from the vige seemed intrinsically linked to it. However, one enigma haunted him: Why had the entity known as the Sick Ghost specifically orchestrated a meeting of all the ghost tamers the night before? What was the motive?


    Although he had numerous facts and observations, connecting them into a coherent narrative proved difficult. However, he thought, Im now confident that the genuine spirit is trapped within this coffin. I must devise a n to ensure it stays that way. His gaze shifted to a body bag nearby. He had invested a hefty 20 million in it, and he hoped it would prove its worth.


    His earlier hesitation stemmed from uncertainty about the coffins actual contents. The consequences couldve been dire if he had made a wrong move and the ghost was still roaming free.


    Mulling over his next move, Miles rose from his seated position, stretching his limbs, which had grown slightly stiff. Despite the looming danger, he knew he needed to act, and as he took steps towards the coffin with intentions to pry it open with his ghostly abilities, an unexpected sight caught him off guard.


    A group of vigers adorned in traditional funeral attire, gathered at the entrance of the hall, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.


    Who might you be? And what business do you have here? The stern voice belonged to an elderly man who dered, You must leave this instant! This is not some venue for outsiders to disrupt. You have the audacity to meddle in our mourning hall. If you dont leave now, Ill ensure you regret it.


    This sudden confrontation left Miles startled.


    Could these vigers genuinely be here to grieve and pay their respects, oblivious to the supernatural threat inside the coffin? Was this an example of undying devotion?


    Desperately wanting to avoid a confrontation, Miles began, Esteemed elders, I implore you to hear me out.


    The old mans patience had clearly run thin as he snapped, Enough of your words! Out, now! Without waiting for any response, he grabbed Miles, attempting to forcefully remove him from the premises.


    Sensing the rising tension, Miles quickly said, Please understand, esteemed elder. I havent been upfront with you. The person who lies here is my elder brother. Ive always affectionately referred to him as big brother, implying that I am his younger kin. The news of his sudden passing reached me a few days back, and the weight of the grief was so immense that I immediately made the journey to this vige, driving through the night, just to be here and pay myst respects.


    My emotions were in such disarray upon learning of his demise that I found sce in being close to him onest time, even if it meant spending an entire night beside his coffin. I can only hope youll sympathize with my state.


    An olderdy, seemingly amused by the unfolding scene, couldnt resist adding, That cant be right. The deceased was an only child.


    Miles inwardly groaned, wishing she had remained silent. Spinning a credible tale on the fly was challenging enough without such interruptions.


    Gathering his thoughts, he said, I might have omitted a detail. Though we addressed each other as brothers, we werent biologically rted. We didnt share the same parents, but our bond was unwavering, transcending blood ties. It was profound and boundless. I humbly request that you permit me to remain here, to stand by him during his final journey.


    But I distinctly recall seeing you enter our vige during daylight, not in the depth of night, another elderly gentleman remarked with a sharp tone. Your story doesnt align.


    Miles mentallymended the mans acute memory, thinking he would be quite the adversary in a game of memory.


    Attempting to maintain hisposure, he replied, Did I? My mind has been a blur with grief; I could have easily lost track of time. But regardless of when I arrived, my reason for being here is genuine.


    The original elder, still skeptical, probed, So you truly im to be a dear friend of my nephew?


    Absolutely, Miles affirmed, Education was not my forte. I hardly had any formal schooling and was never inclined to artful deception. In simpler words, I speak inly, from the heart.


    Unconvinced, the elder continued, Then why show up only now? And, customary practices dictate you bring a token of condolence. Have you?


    Miles, seizing the opportunity, hastily presented a bundle of money, totaling to a thousand. Yes, I did think of that, he said.


    The elder, his expression softening, observed, Your vigil beside my nephew speaks volumes about your bond. Its evident you sufferedst night. If youre brave enough, would you consider watching over him tonight as well? As he withdrew his hand from the exchange, the thousand-dor gesture discreetly vanished into his possession.


    A rueful smile formed on Miless face. Had he only presented the mary gesture earlier, he could have sidestepped the intricate web of fabricated rtions he wove.


    The seemingly satisfied elder addressed the assembled vigers, This gentleman ims to be a dear friend of my nephew from a distant ce. Hes here to mourn and honor the departed. Lets ensure we understand and respect his intentions henceforth.


    Though curious, Miles refrained from inquiring about the name of the so-called nephew. Such minutiae felt inconsequential with a potentially malevolent spirit encased within the coffin.


    Yet, with the days drama, any covert actions seemed impossible under the watchful eyes of the vige elders. With so many onlookers, he could only imagine theplications that might ensue.


    Moreover, Miles couldnt help but wonder: Why hadnt the ghost within the coffin attacked these vigers? Even if it had a specific vendetta against ghost tamers, its malevolence should not have been limited to them alone.


    Could the spirit be native to this area? Maybe one that holds a certain emotional attachment to the vige and its people?


    Moreover, there was something peculiar about these vigers.


    Residing in a vige gued by such a sinister spirit was a mystery in itself. How could they seemingly live their lives undisturbed?


    However, Miles knew this wasnt the moment to dive deep into these musings. From his perspective, these vigers appeared very much alivebreathing, their hearts pumping with life.


    If they werent a direct threat to him, was there any point in overanalyzing their quirks?


    Seeking a brief respite, Miles decided to step outdoors.


    He lingered outside, discreetly observing the vigers activities within the mourning hall. They were involved in traditional ritualsburning joss paper, lighting fresh candles, and disying overt signs of grief beside the coffin. The ambiance was unsettling.


    Did they truly remain unaware of the entity contained within the coffin?


    Deep in thought, the distinctive ring of his satellite-enabled phone interrupted him.


    Rain was calling.


    Hello, Miles? Can we talk right now?


    If its important, just speak up. Im free for the moment, Miles answered tersely.


    Ive looked into that portrait photo you sent over yesterday, Rain began, a serious undertone evident in her voice.


    Miles leaned in, What have you discovered?


    Rains response was grave, Its concerning. The individual in the portrait doesnt appear in any records of Spear City or even on a national scale. Essentially, ording to all official documentation, this person doesnt exist.


    Miless brows furrowed in disbelief, Nonexistent? Are you certain there hasnt been an oversight?


    While the entity in the coffin might be supernatural, the portrait had to represent someone tangible, right?


    Rain was adamant, Im certain. A high-powered supeputer was used to cross-reference with the national database. The highest simrity score to the photo you provided was below 60%. I individually verified the few that had a semnce of resemnce, and none matched. Additionally, some experts in the field inspected your photograph. It appears that it might be aposite.


    Aposite? Miles hesitated, trying toprehend.


    Rain elucidated, Yes. It seems to be crafted by merging multiple individuals images into a singr portrait. Does that make sense?


    A cold shiver passed through Miles as he nced at the portrait disyed prominently in front of the coffin.


    Something didnt sit right.


    Quickly, he pulled out another phone,paring the portrait with a photo hed captured just the previous day.


    To his astonishment, there were discrepancies. While the differences were minute and required a keen eye, whenpared, it was evident that the current portrait and yesterdays photo depicted slightly different individuals.


    The realization was startlingwas the portrait undergoing a transformation?


    Even though Miles couldnt deduce the reasoning behind this phenomenon, his instincts told him this evolving portrait did not bode well.


    Hello? Miles? Are you still with me?


    Snapped back to the conversation by Rains voice, she added, Regarding the old Yellow Hill Vige incident files you inquired about, Ive located them. Im transmitting them to your device now. I presume you have a backup phone? Normally, ghost tamers primary phones arent equipped to receive images.


    Got it, Miles replied promptly, sharing his current phone number with Rain to seamlessly transfer the files.


    Within moments, the familiar chime of an email notification resonated from his phone.


    With a growing sense of anticipation, Miles quickly tapped into the files associated with Yellow Hill Vige. As he scanned the initial pages, his face drained of color, abination of surprise and disbelief evident in his eyes.


    This this cant be right. How is this even conceivable? He muttered, trying to grapple with the revtions in front of him.


    The intel contained within those documents evoked a deep-seated dread, a feeling Miles hadnt experienced in a long while.


    But before he could even begin to digest this new information, the distant hum of powerful engines grew louder. The noise drew closer until it crescendoed into a thunderous roar.


    A convoy of three sleek sports cars made their way into the vige, dust trailing in their wake.


    Miles immediately recognized them. It was Yiming, with his entourage Stretch and Page. The very same trio that had ostensibly left the vige the previous night. However, it seemed they hadnt ventured far and were now making their conspicuous return.