Chapter 515 The “Human” Passenger

Chapter 515: The “Human” Passenger

Su Bai could contact quite a few “people,” but when it came to actual *humans*, the number he could reach was extremely limited.

“Just consider it my special ability.”

Hearing Su Bai’s utterly matter-of-fact tone, Feng Yan—puzzled—pulled out his phone again to check. The signal bar on the screen was completely empty. Under these conditions, not only was calling for outside help impossible, but even sending a single text message was out of the question. Yet Su Bai showed no sign of worry; his expression remained calm, clearly untroubled by the current limitations.

Was his ability truly related to communication?

Of course not. Su Bai’s ability had little to do with communication. But if he wished, he could bypass these signal issues entirely and directly contact Qin Ge and other members of the Relevant Authorities—simply by having A Xi make the trip. That lovely ghost bride could be considered an “old acquaintance” of Qin Ge’s and would surely find a way to deliver the message.

However, just as Su Bai attempted to communicate with the family members trapped inside the Evil Ghost Puzzle, he unexpectedly received a message from a certain Lord Ghost Witch. That elusive, unpredictable specter succinctly declared his willingness to assist—and seize the opportunity to conduct an experiment in the real world.

Su Bai was no stranger to the Ghost Witch’s “experiments.”

Unlike the Red Moon Association’s reckless, chaotic trials, the Ghost Witch’s research typically revolved around puppet-making. No wonder the Fog City Lord, when speaking of him, called him the greatest—and most terrifying—puppeteer alive.

The title “puppeteer” might sound trivial—but the Red Moon Association’s deep-seated dread of the Ghost Witch was enough for Su Bai to grasp that this entity’s power defied superficial understanding. The legendary puppet army said to serve the Ghost Witch atop that mist-shrouded mountain—mentioned by the Fog City Lord—was certainly no mere collection of finely crafted dolls.

Su Bai was certain the Ghost Witch didn’t aim to create simple puppets, but rather *special vessels* capable of containing the immense, horrifying power wielded by elite Eerie Entities—like Su Xuan or the Ghost Witch himself.

It wasn’t merely about containment. These puppet vessels also needed to *seal* that terrifying power absolutely—preventing any leakage whatsoever. Otherwise, if they entered the real world wearing flawed or cracked vessels—exposing such power to a reality untouched by the Red Moon—even the slightest unintentional leak could wreak catastrophic damage upon surrounding life and environment.

Judging from the state of the puppet Su Xuan had used previously, crafting such a vessel was undoubtedly no simple feat; it would collapse under even a marginal excess of power. Even the later “player” puppet the Ghost Witch—that is, Wu Hang—prepared for himself was so hastily assembled it lacked facial features altogether, resembling nothing more than a half-finished experimental prototype.

Of course, even if the Ghost Witch’s experiments weren’t yet perfected—even if the result was still a prototype—his puppet vessel was already sufficient to deceive certain observers and allow him to pass as “human.” Logically, it should likewise enable him to convincingly “disguise” himself as a human in reality.

In other words… barring accidents, as long as he wore the puppet vessel, when the Ghost Witch boarded Bus No. 666, the bus would register him as an “ordinary human”—thus fulfilling the condition for being full.

“He should be arriving soon,” Su Bai murmured softly to Feng Yan and the other passengers, his expression tinged with quiet anticipation.

His voice, though steady, cut sharply through the bus’s deathly silence. Hearing it, the other passengers turned their gazes toward him—but those looks held little trust, instead brimming with doubt and hesitation. Their expressions were subtle, as if regarding a stranger whose appearance was stunningly beautiful, yet whose “professional competence” seemed highly questionable.

Perhaps, like Feng Yan, the others also doubted his abilities precisely because of Su Bai’s striking looks. This Special Ability User’s refined, handsome features made him resemble those pretentious TV actors—not a “professional” capable of solving real-world problems. In contrast, though young, Feng Yan had already earned the passengers’ trust: first by stopping them from boarding, then—after reluctantly getting on board—by patiently explaining and meticulously analyzing the situation.

“Arriving soon? What do you mean?” Feng Yan frowned at Su Bai, uncertainty coloring his tone.

At that very moment, Zhen Youbing—who had fainted earlier after one of his fingers turned to dust—jolted awake. His face was pale, his forehead slick with cold sweat, his eyes wide with shock. Glancing down, he saw his right hand missing a finger—the spot where his fingertip should have been now a hollow void. That horrifying sight shattered his nerves instantly. Clenching his teeth in rage, he let out a low roar and slammed his forehead hard against the bus window.

*Thud!* A dull, heavy thump echoed through the bus, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. His movement carried the desperate, self-destructive urgency of someone trying to jolt himself awake through pain—leaving only a smeared mark on the cold glass.

“Calm down!” Zhen Youbing’s girlfriend, Ren Qingqing, immediately stepped forward to restrain him, pressing firmly on his shoulders and neck. It took her several moments to finally soothe him.

Zhen Youbing lifted his head, bloodshot eyes filled with despair and panic. He stared fixedly at the hollow space where his finger had been—as if hoping this was merely some absurd hallucination.

“Why… why are we *still* on this bus?!” He suddenly whirled toward his girlfriend, voice urgent and hoarse. He could no longer suppress the fear welling inside—his tone escalating into hysteria. “This bus… and my hand… isn’t this all a dream? Why *isn’t* it a dream?! Why *isn’t* it a dream?!!”

His voice rose higher and higher, panic surging like a tide—blasting eardrums, sharply intensifying the suffocating weight in the air.

The other new passengers—who had been desperately trying to hypnotize themselves into calm—were now infected by his terror. Ren Qingqing, standing beside Zhen Youbing, gripped the seatback tightly, lips trembling, unable to utter a single word of comfort.

Milly, seated in the back, had feigned composure earlier—but she was, after all, just an ordinary female university student. Now she began to sob quietly, shoulders trembling faintly, as if Zhen Youbing’s panic had seeped into her too, shattering her ability to remain composed.

The entire bus seemed torn apart by Zhen Youbing’s screams—the original oppressive silence replaced by a suffocating chaos.

Then, a weak chuckle drifted from the rear of the bus.

“Newcomers, save your energy,” sighed an elderly passenger seated in the back corner. “When you’re thirsty, starving, and exhausted, you won’t have strength left to scream. If the bus doesn’t fill up, sooner or later you’ll end up like us—too weak to shout, too broken to even struggle…”

His words spread through the bus like an invisible chill. Zhen Youbing froze—his face turning even paler.

Beside him, Ren Qingqing gently tugged his sleeve, whispering, “Youbing, it’s okay. A Mr. Su boarded earlier—someone even more capable than Feng Yan. Mr. Su said the next passenger will arrive soon. Once the bus is full, we can leave.”

“Really?” Zhen Youbing and the other passengers instinctively looked outside.

Beyond the window, darkness and mist stretched endlessly—ready, it seemed, to swallow this lone bus whole.

How powerful Su Bai truly was… whether Su Bai could actually contact the next passenger… these questions no longer mattered to them. After all, the only thing they could do was believe—and wait.

Believe in their last lifeline. Wait for fate’s next move… or for terror to descend.