The thick darkness engulfed the graveyard, and the bone-chilling cold crept into every corner. The howling wind shrieked like wandering spirits wailing in the night. Under the dim glow of the flashlights held by the Đinh family’s men, the faces of Hoàng Hải Vân and Trần Ngọc Linh appeared pale, yet their eyes burned with determination.
Despite her trembling body, Hoàng Hải Vân forced herself to remain calm. Her voice, hoarse from the cold and tension, cut through the silence:
"The Trần family fell under the Đinh family's feet? Then… was it you who killed my father?"
Đinh Tuấn Kiệt burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the night like the howls of a demon. His gaze, filled with cruel amusement, locked onto Hoàng Hải Vân.
"Trần Hùng truly was a cunning old fox, fighting my father for years without ever surrendering. But unfortunately for him... he never expected that the one to stab him in the back would be the person he trusted the most."
Hoàng Hải Vân had long suspected this, but hearing Đinh Tuấn Kiệt confirm it made her heart tighten in worry—for Trần Ngọc Linh. Her voice dropped, laced with fury:
"Are you saying… there was a traitor?"
"Exactly!" Đinh Tuấn Kiệt’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "The foster son that old man Trần Hùng cherished more than anything… he’s the one who sold him out. Nguyễn Thế Anh!" He emphasized each word, savoring the moment he would see them break.
Trần Ngọc Linh’s entire body froze. The sounds around him faded into silence. A suffocating weight crushed his chest, stealing his breath. No… That can’t be true! Nguyễn Thế Anh—the sworn brother, the son his father had loved like his own flesh and blood—was the traitor?
Fury erupted within him, a blazing inferno searing through every fiber of his being. But before he could act, a cold, merciless command rang out:
"Take the girl. Kill Trần’s heir and send him to reunite with his father!"
The gang members lunged forward, seizing Trần Ngọc Linh and dragging him away. Hoàng Hải Vân barely caught a glimpse of his panicked eyes before she was forced to her knees. The barrel of a gun pressed against her forehead. Despair surged within her chest.
A gunshot shattered the night!
Trần Ngọc Linh shoved aside the hands restraining him, throwing himself over Hoàng Hải Vân, shielding her with his own body. The force of the impact sent them both crashing to the ground. Everything slowed. Agonizing pain seared through him. And then—something erupted within them.
For a brief moment, their souls seemed to be ripped from their bodies, before an invisible force slammed them back in.
Hoàng Hải Vân’s eyes snapped open. She found herself… back in her own body. And Trần Ngọc Linh, lying beneath her, realized the same. But the pain in his head—this was no ordinary headache.
His vision burned red. A dark, overwhelming power surged through his veins, consuming his reason. On his forehead, a third eye—blazing crimson—opened.
A chilling aura spread across the graveyard. The Đinh family’s men shuddered, unease creeping into their bones. Some instinctively stepped back. But before they could act, an invisible force bound them in place. Their hands trembled, guns aimed, but they couldn’t pull the trigger.
From the graves around them, shadowy figures rose from the earth—restless spirits long imprisoned, now called forth. They lunged, possessing the bodies of the gunmen. And then—hell descended.
Screams of agony pierced the night. The possessed men convulsed, their eyes rolling back, faces contorted in torment. Controlled by vengeful spirits, they turned on their own allies. Gunfire erupted, mingling with bloodcurdling shrieks. Blood splattered, soaking the ground.
Hoàng Hải Vân stood frozen. The scene before her was a nightmare made real.
Perched atop a wall, Trần Ngọc Linh watched in silence. No hesitation. No mercy. His lips curled into a chilling smirk. He was no longer bound by any vow to spare lives.
Tonight… every traitor, every enemy who had wronged his family, everyone who dared threaten Hoàng Hải Vân—would pay for their sins in blood.
Hoàng Hải Vân stood frozen in shock, unable to move. Before her eyes, one by one, the men collapsed, their blood splattering in all directions. Agonized screams tore through the night, mingling with the nauseating stench of blood that made her head spin.
Visions of the dying men’s memories flooded her mind—regrets, love, unfulfilled dreams, and unbearable pain. Each fragment of their past felt as real as her own. These were not mere enemies; they were human beings with families waiting for them to return.
Too much—too much information rushed into her brain all at once. A searing pain gripped her skull. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
She looked up at Trần Ngọc Linh. It was as if he had grown a pair of dark wings. His human eyes were closed, but the third eye—glowing blood-red—remained wide open. Was this the demon they had summoned? Where was the boy with the pure, innocent eyes?
He had awakened the Yin-Yang Eye—a terrifying power that allowed him to control wandering spirits, forcing them into the bodies of the living. Under his command, the possessed turned on each other, slaughtering their own comrades, until in the end, they took their own lives.
When nearly everyone had fallen, Hoàng Hải Vân collapsed, her body giving in to exhaustion and horror. The moment she hit the ground, Trần Ngọc Linh shut his third eye, leaped down, and carried her away. Without his control, the spirits returned to their graves.
Only one man remained standing. He was the same one who had tried to stop Đinh Tuấn Kiệt earlier. Trembling, his mind barely comprehending the massacre he had just witnessed, he could do nothing but stare in mute horror.
The next day, the entire country was shaken by the news—a brutal gang massacre in a graveyard. The police were baffled. There was no logical explanation for why the gang members had gathered there, nor why they had turned on each other so viciously.
The sole survivor had fallen into a dazed, near-catatonic state. He remembered nothing.
Meanwhile, Hoàng Hải Vân remained unconscious for a full day and night. When she finally awoke, Trần Ngọc Linh was sitting beside her. He had stayed by her side the entire time, exhaustion evident in his face as he slept.
She reached for her phone and scrolled through the news. Every headline screamed about the horrifying graveyard massacre. The conclusion? A gang dispute turned deadly, with no outside interference.
So it hadn’t been a dream. Everything that happened that night… was real.
Trần Ngọc Linh stirred, sensing her movement. His eyes fluttered open, and the moment he saw her awake, relief washed over his face.
“Thank goodness you’re awake.”
For the first time since their resurrection, they spoke to each other in their real, physical bodies. His voice—it was so gentle.
And yet, Hoàng Hải Vân flinched in fear. The memory of the massacre was too fresh, too vivid. Her hands trembled, and before she knew it, her phone slipped from her grasp, crashing onto the floor.