Only Isaac Wynn still looked somewhat normal, but the places that should have grown fat were now all tangled muscle, making even Lincoln Faulkner want to laugh in this situation. However, of course, Lincoln Faulkner would never actually do something so ridiculous.

Watching the three move slowly, clearly getting used to their new bodies, Lincoln Faulkner, though shocked inside, still couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you? Why have you taken over my friends’ bodies? Are you monsters, or some kind of ghosts?”

To Lincoln Faulkner’s surprise, Jack Martin stopped playing with the crackling electricity between his hands, turned around, and gave a strange smile: “Oh! No! We are nothing… You don’t need to know any of that.”

The evil spirit occupying Jack Martin’s body said indifferently, “You really don’t need to know our purpose. Your friends’ bodies just happen to be what we need, allowing us to gain freedom! You! Pick up that book and come with us!”

“Why should I listen to you?” Lincoln Faulkner retorted, his temper flaring. Even though he knew the other party wasn’t human, he still risked talking back. Although Lincoln Faulkner felt a chill of fear down his back, his tone didn’t waver at all.

“A hard-shelled turtle dies, a soft-shelled shrimp dies too—there’s nothing to be afraid of.” While secretly trying to encourage himself, Lincoln Faulkner rapidly turned over ideas in his mind, trying to find a way out.

“Oh? Quite the backbone. I am Eli Quinn, nice to meet you.” The evil spirit calling itself Eli Quinn approached Lincoln Faulkner with a mysterious smile. The face that once belonged to Jack Martin now looked extremely dangerous. A right hand landed on Lincoln Faulkner’s chest, exuding a wicked aura.

Lincoln Faulkner suddenly felt numb in his chest as a powerful current surged through his body, sending him flying and crashing into the wall. Slowly withdrawing his right hand, crackling with blue electricity, Eli Quinn still wore that wicked smile.

Eli Quinn clearly had perfect control over the electricity—Lincoln Faulkner was in excruciating pain all over, but there wasn’t a single mark on his skin.

“Pick up the book and come with us! Hugh King, don’t touch those things. Just burn the appliances.”

The evil spirit possessing Isaac Wynn was clearly curious about the appliances in Lincoln Faulkner’s home. With a flick of his finger, the TV, refrigerator, air conditioner, and more all exploded into balls of fire. After being shouted at by Eli Quinn, he just shrugged and walked out first.

Lincoln Faulkner struggled to his feet, picked up the ancient book from the floor, and before he could take a step, a gust of wind surged behind him, pushing him out the door with several staggering steps.

He had no idea why these guys wanted him to go with them, but Lincoln Faulkner noticed that the three evil spirits each had different abilities: the domineering and sinister Eli Quinn could control lightning; as for Hugh King, judging by the name, he was clearly a master of fire. The one who hadn’t spoken, Finn James—the evil spirit called out before Eli Quinn appeared—judging by how he was sent out the door, probably specialized in controlling wind and rain, or something similar.

It was clear that these three evil spirits could only act in the human world by occupying the bodies of his three friends.

No matter how brave Lincoln Faulkner was, the thought of being coerced by unknown evil beings still filled him with deep fear.

At four or five in the afternoon in September, the sun was still high in the sky. But even with sunlight shining on him, Lincoln Faulkner no longer felt any warmth.

Chapter Two: Escape in the Bustling City

Although Eli Quinn and the others were unwilling to explain anything to Lincoln Faulkner, he could sense that these three really valued him.

No matter the situation, Eli Quinn, Finn James, and Hugh King always surrounded him in a triangle, constantly on guard, as if wary of some danger.

Lincoln Faulkner had a strange feeling: these three mysterious beings seemed somewhat apprehensive, even afraid of him.

Lincoln Faulkner soon realized that these three didn’t seem to have any clear goal. Clutching the ancient book tightly, he thought to himself, “They’re so curious about everything—they probably have no experience living in this era. Maybe these three are antiques from thousands of years ago.”

“Wow! These clothes look so cool, Eli Quinn, let’s go in and try some on, change out of what we’re wearing.”

Although it sounded like a suggestion, Hugh King didn’t hesitate at all and stepped right into the boutique next door. This clothing store specialized in high-end goods and was very close to Lincoln Faulkner’s home. Lincoln Faulkner had passed by countless times but never shopped there—the merchandise was far too expensive for him.

“Oh! This one, this one, bring them all over.”

Because of the recent possessions, all four of their clothes were a bit torn, looking like even the most rebellious Hong Kong or Taiwanese street punks wouldn’t wear such hole-ridden outfits. With four such eccentric youths entering, the staff didn’t think they were beggars, but neither did they show any enthusiasm for customers.

“Gentlemen, this is a brand-name store. The prices are quite high. Trying on is not allowed.”

The male clerk, though polite, clearly looked down on the four of them, coldly hinting that they should leave.