The late summer heat had settled over Dragon Pearl City with oppressive humidity, making the air thick and heavy as if the city itself were breathing in slow, languid breaths. In the weeks since their encounter with the Virtual Police, Mark Li and Lin Wei had been adjusting to their new status as consultants to the Spiritual Division—accessing intelligence reports, coordinating with spectral officers, and navigating the complex bureaucracy of supernatural law enforcement.
Their relationship had continued to deepen, their newfound romantic partnership adding a layer of personal connection to their professional collaboration. They were no longer just colleagues or partners in fighting supernatural threats—they were building a life together, finding moments of peace and normalcy between the darkness and danger of their work. The office had begun to feel more like a home, with small touches that reflected their growing intimacy—a shared mug rack near the coffee maker, a comfortable couch where they could take breaks together, and the quiet understanding that had developed between them through countless dangerous missions.
"I still can't believe we have a direct line to Captain Chen," Lin Wei said one morning, sipping tea at their favorite table in the corner café. "It feels like we're living in a supernatural crime procedural."
Mark smiled, adjusting the spiritual communication device that Captain Chen had provided them. The device looked like an ordinary smartphone but had features that defied conventional technology, including the ability to communicate with the Spiritual Division headquarters across different dimensions.
"It's certainly better than going it alone," he agreed. "But it also means we're getting called in on more cases. Some of these supernatural police reports... they're more tragic than dangerous."
As if to prove his point, the spiritual device chimed with an alert. A message from Captain Chen appeared on the screen, the characters glowing with faint blue energy.
*New case for consultation. Suicidal death in luxury apartment complex. Possible supernatural elements related to financial crimes and illegal lending. Meet me at the scene. Address: Dragon Pearl Heights, Tower A, Apartment 2803.*
Mark and Lin Wei exchanged concerned glances. Financial crimes and supernatural elements were always a dangerous combination, and suicide cases often left behind tormented spirits who needed help finding peace.
"Dragon Pearl Heights," Lin Wei said, recognizing the name. "That's one of the most exclusive apartment complexes in the city. The kind of place where units sell for millions."
"Which makes this even more tragic," Mark added. "Someone with everything, yet driven to suicide. There has to be more to this story."
The drive to Dragon Pearl Heights took them through some of the most affluent neighborhoods in Dragon Pearl City, where the buildings were modern architectural marvels and the streets were lined with luxury cars. The contrast between the gleaming wealth of this area and the tragic nature of their investigation was striking.
Dragon Pearl Heights was indeed impressive—twin towers of glass and steel that soared above the city, with spectacular views of the harbor and the distant mountains. Tower A was the more exclusive of the two, with private elevators, concierge service, and the kind of security that suggested the residents valued their privacy very highly.
Captain Chen was waiting for them in the lobby, his spectral form somehow more substantial and authoritative in the luxurious surroundings. He had brought with him two other Virtual Police officers—a woman in her thirties and a man in his forties, both dressed in modern police uniforms that seemed to be tailored versions of their spiritual attire.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," Captain Chen said, his voice carrying the weight of decades of law enforcement experience. "This case is... complicated in ways that go beyond the obvious tragedy."
"What do we know so far?" Mark asked, as they headed toward the private elevators.
"The victim is Zhao Mei Ling, twenty-six years old," Captain Chen explained. "She was found hanging in her bedroom three days ago. The official cause of death was suicide, but there are unusual elements that suggest supernatural involvement."
The elevator ride was silent but heavy with anticipation. When the doors opened on the twenty-eighth floor, they were greeted by the distinctive atmosphere of a place where violence had occurred—thick, heavy spiritual energy that seemed to cling to the air like cobwebs.
Apartment 2803 was indeed luxurious—marble floors, designer furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered spectacular views of the city. But it was also a crime scene, and the luxury was tainted by the horror of what had happened here.
"Look at this," Lin Wei said softly, pointing to a collection of luxury handbags arranged on a display shelf. "These are all designer brands, worth thousands each. But the rest of the apartment... it feels empty, cold."
Captain Chen nodded. "That's one of the unusual elements. Zhao Mei Ling appeared to be wealthy—she posted constantly on social media about her luxury lifestyle, expensive purchases, and glamorous social events. But when we investigated her financial situation, we discovered something disturbing."
He led them to a small home office where papers were scattered across a desk. "She was drowning in debt. Bank records show she took out dozens of loans over the past year—online lenders, private money lenders, even some questionable overseas companies. The total is staggering."
Mark picked up one of the loan agreements and his eyes widened. "Twenty thousand yuan from a private lender at thirty-six percent annual interest. That's usury, not lending."
"And it gets worse," Captain Chen continued. "The most recent loan was from a company called 'Quick Money Finance.' They loaned her twenty thousand yuan, but the terms are... unusual."
He showed them a contract that made even Mark uncomfortable. The loan agreement had clauses that seemed more like curses than business terms—penalties that involved personal suffering, interest that would accumulate not just in money but in spiritual debt.
"This is dark magic disguised as financial services," Lin Wei realized, her voice tight with anger. "They're not just lending money—they're trapping people in spiritual bondage."
"The really disturbing part," Captain Chen added, "is that when the bank tried to enforce the court judgment against Zhao Mei Ling's estate, they discovered she had no assets. The luxury goods, the designer clothes, the glamorous lifestyle—all of it was fake. She was living on borrowed money and borrowed time."
Mark looked around the apartment with new understanding. "She was creating an illusion of wealth, probably to impress people on social media, while drowning in debt and desperation. That kind of deception... it attracts supernatural entities."
"That's what brought us in," Captain Chen confirmed. "The building security cameras captured something unusual the night she died. Not just Zhao Mei Ling entering the apartment, but another figure—one that doesn't appear in any other camera footage."
He showed them the security footage on a tablet computer. The video was grainy but clear enough to see a figure following Zhao Mei Ling into the apartment. The figure was tall and slender, dressed in what appeared to be traditional Chinese clothing from ancient times, with long black hair and a face that seemed too perfect to be human.
"I've seen that face before," Lin Wei said suddenly, her eyes wide with recognition. "In old books about supernatural collectors—debt collectors who prey on desperate humans, binding them to servitude through magical contracts."
"Debt collecting spirits," Mark realized grimly. "Ancient entities that have adapted to modern financial systems. They don't collect souls in the traditional sense—they collect life energy through financial bondage."
The apartment suddenly felt colder, and Mark could sense a powerful spiritual presence growing stronger. The air began to shimmer, and a figure began to materialize in the center of the living room.
The entity was exactly as it appeared in the security footage—tall and slender, dressed in elaborate ancient Chinese robes, with long black hair that fell like silk around perfect features. It carried an abacus made of jade and bone, and its eyes glowed with a cold, calculating light.
"So," the entity said, its voice like ice sliding over glass. "You're the spiritual police I've heard about. Coming to interfere with legitimate business practices?"
Captain Chen stepped forward, his spectral form growing more solid and authoritative. "This is not legitimate business, Collector Wu. This is spiritual exploitation, and it stops now."
The entity laughed, a sound that was genuinely terrifying. "Legitimate? Of course it's legitimate. These humans come to me willingly, seeking money they cannot otherwise obtain. I provide them with what they want, and they provide me with what I need. It's the oldest transaction in existence."
"You're preying on desperation," Lin Wei countered, her protective charms beginning to glow with defensive energy. "You're trapping people in cycles of debt that extend beyond their mortal lives."
Collector Wu's eyes narrowed. "You understand nothing of my business model. I provide a service—liquidity to those who need it, regardless of their creditworthiness. The fact that the repayment terms extend beyond physical death is simply a matter of efficiency."
"Efficiency?" Mark said, his voice tight with anger. "You're talking about trapping souls in eternal servitude for temporary financial relief. That's not efficiency—it's slavery."
The entity's form began to shift and distort, its perfect features twisting into something more monstrous. "Slavery? I'm offering them opportunities they could never obtain otherwise. Zhao Mei Ling would never have been able to afford this lifestyle without my help. I made her dreams come true."
"You turned her dreams into nightmares," Captain Chen said firmly. "You exploited her vanity and desperation, leading her to suicide rather than facing the consequences of her actions."
Collector Wu seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Perhaps I was too generous with her. Some humans cannot handle wealth without responsibility. That's why I have a more disciplined approach with my other clients."
As if to prove his point, the entity waved his jade abacus, and the apartment walls began to shimmer. Through the distortions, they could see other apartments—other people living similar lives of borrowed luxury, each one trapped in the same kind of spiritual bondage.
"How many?" Lin Wei asked, her voice filled with horror.
"Enough to maintain a profitable enterprise," Collector Wu replied calmly. "Dragon Pearl City is filled with ambitious people who want more than they can afford. I provide them with the means to achieve their dreams, and they provide me with the energy I need to maintain my existence."
This was bigger than Mark had imagined. It wasn't just one tragic case—it was an entire supernatural business model preying on human vanity and desperation.
"This ends now," Captain Chen declared, his Virtual Police officers moving to surround the entity. "You're under arrest for spiritual exploitation and illegal collection of human souls."
Collector Wu laughed again, the sound echoing through the apartment. "Arrest me? You spiritual police have no jurisdiction over legitimate business transactions. And even if you did, do you have any idea what would happen to all these souls if you shut down my operation?"
The entity waved his abacus again, and the walls became transparent, showing dozens of other apartments. In each one, people were living lives of apparent wealth and success, but their faces were pale and their eyes were hollow—the spiritual equivalent of drug addicts, trapped in cycles of addiction to the luxury they couldn't truly afford.
"If you stop me," Collector Wu explained, "they all lose everything. Their lifestyles, their social standing, their sense of self-worth. They would rather die than return to ordinary lives."
Mark looked at the faces in the other apartments—people trapped in spiritual bondage, their souls being harvested gradually to pay off debts they could never truly repay. The scale of the tragedy was overwhelming.
"They're all going to die anyway," Lin Wei realized, her voice filled with anguish. "This kind of spiritual consumption... it slowly drains their life force until there's nothing left."
"Perhaps," Collector Wu admitted. "But they die believing they lived successful lives. Is that not better than living with the knowledge of their own mediocrity?"
"They're living lies," Mark said firmly. "And their souls are paying the price."
The confrontation became more intense as Collector Wu began to summon his spiritual power. The apartment filled with the ghostly forms of his other clients—all trapped souls who had died while still in debt to him, now forced to serve him in death.
These weren't ordinary spirits. They were hollow-eyed, empty shells that moved with the jerky motions of puppets, their spiritual essence drained to the point where they could barely maintain their forms.
"See?" Collector Wu said proudly. "These are my most successful clients. They died with thousands of followers on social media, still appearing to live the glamorous lives I provided for them. Even in death, they maintain the illusion of success."
Lin Wei gasped as she recognized one of the spirits—a young woman who had been a popular lifestyle influencer, known for posting photos of luxury purchases and exotic vacations. She had apparently died months ago, but her social media accounts continued to post regularly, giving the impression that she was still living her glamorous life.
"You're maintaining her social media presence after her death?" Mark asked, horrified.
"Of course," Collector Wu replied. "The illusion must be maintained. Her followers expect regular updates, and their attention provides me with additional spiritual energy. It's a beautiful business model, really—her fame continues to grow even after her death, and I continue to profit from it."
This was worse than Mark had imagined. The entity wasn't just collecting souls—he was maintaining a network of ghostly influencers, all trapped in an endless cycle of promoting a lifestyle that wasn't real.
"These people have families," Lin Wei said, her voice trembling with anger. "They have loved ones who believe they're still alive, who are being deceived by these ghostly social media posts."
"Families are irrelevant," Collector Wu dismissed. "What matters is the business model. Each of these spirits generates revenue through social media engagement, which translates to spiritual energy. It's the perfect renewable resource."
Captain Chen stepped forward, his spectral form glowing with righteous anger. "This is not just spiritual exploitation—it's eternal deception. You're preventing these souls from moving on, and you're preventing their families from finding closure."
"Closure is overrated," Collector Wu sneered. "Most people prefer comforting lies to painful truths. That's why my business is so successful."
The battle that followed was intense and emotional. The Virtual Police officers fought with the precision and discipline of trained law enforcement, but Collector Wu had an army of trapped spirits to defend him—each one desperate to maintain their illusion of success rather than face the truth of their circumstances.
Mark and Lin Wei found themselves fighting not just against the collector, but against the very people they were trying to save. The trapped spirits fought with a desperation that came from their addiction to the illusion, each one terrified of losing the glamorous life they had borrowed.
"We can't fight them," Lin Wei realized, ducking to avoid a spiritual attack from a former social media influencer. "They're victims, not enemies."
"They're both," Mark replied, creating a barrier of protective energy. "They're victims of the collector, but they're also complicit in maintaining the deception. We need to break through their addiction to the illusion."
The turning point came when they realized that Zhao Mei Ling's spirit was still in the apartment. Her suicide had been so recent that her spirit hadn't yet been fully harvested by the collector. She was watching the battle from the shadows, her expression filled with both fear and regret.
"Zhao Mei Ling," Mark called out gently, trying to reach through the spiritual battle that raged around them. "We know you're here. We want to help you find peace."
Her ghostly form appeared gradually, looking exactly as she had in her final days—beautiful, stylishly dressed, but with hollow eyes that showed the emptiness beneath the surface appearance.
"Help me?" she whispered, her voice echoing with spiritual resonance. "There's no help for me now. I've sold my soul for a few months of luxury, and I have nothing left to pay."
"Your debt to the collector can be forgiven," Captain Chen said firmly. "But only if you choose to let go of the illusion."
Zhao Mei Ling looked around at the battle, at the other trapped spirits fighting to maintain their borrowed luxury. "Let go? This is all I have. Without this, I'm just... ordinary."
"There's nothing wrong with being ordinary," Lin Wei said softly. "There's more to life than luxury goods and social media followers. There's real happiness, real connections, real love."
"I never had that," Zhao Mei Ling admitted, tears forming in her spiritual eyes. "I was always just... average. Plain. No one noticed me until I started living this fake life. People followed me, admired me, wanted to be me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered."
"You matter because of who you are, not what you have," Mark said gently. "But the collector convinced you that your worth came from your possessions and your popularity. That was the greatest lie of all."
Zhao Mei Ling considered this, her form wavering as she struggled between the addiction to her illusion and the desire for genuine peace. "If I let go, what happens to me?"
"You move on," Captain Chen explained. "You leave behind this fake life and find your true path in the spiritual realm. You'll be reunited with loved ones who have passed before, and you'll find peace."
"And if I stay?" she asked, looking at the other trapped spirits.
"Eventually, the debt will consume you completely," Collector Wu said impatiently. "Your spiritual essence will be harvested completely, and you'll become one of my permanent employees. That's your other option."
Zhao Mei Ling looked at the collector with growing horror. "Permanent employee? You mean... like them?" She gestured toward the hollow-eyed spirits fighting to maintain their illusions.
"Exactly," Collector Wu confirmed. "It's not so bad. You get to maintain your social media presence, your followers, your glamorous lifestyle. You just... do it without a physical body."
Mark and Lin Wei exchanged horrified glances. This was worse than they had imagined—the collector wasn't just harvesting spiritual energy, he was creating a ghostly workforce of social media influencers, all trapped in an eternal cycle of promoting a life that wasn't real.
"Zhao Mei Ling," Lin Wei said urgently, "you need to choose now. Before the collector completely claims you."
The young woman looked at her hands, which were beginning to fade as her spiritual essence was gradually being harvested. "I'm tired," she whispered. "Tired of pretending, tired of the pressure to maintain this illusion. I just want... peace."
As she spoke those words, something shifted in the spiritual atmosphere. The battle seemed to pause as the other trapped spirits sensed her decision. One by one, they began to look away from the collector, their expressions changing from desperate defense to questioning curiosity.
"No!" Collector Wu shouted, his form beginning to distort with anger. "You're all under contract! You cannot simply walk away!"
"The contracts were obtained through deception and exploitation," Captain Chen declared, his authority growing stronger as Zhao Mei Ling chose freedom. "In the spiritual realm, such contracts are null and void. You have no legal standing."
"You can't do this!" the entity screamed, his form shifting and distorting as he lost control over his spiritual workforce. "I've spent decades building this business!"
"You can build a legitimate business or you can face spiritual justice," Mark replied firmly. "The choice is yours."
Collector Wu looked around at the spirits who were beginning to turn away from him, their addiction to the illusion breaking as they witnessed Zhao Mei Ling's choice. The entity realized that he was losing everything—the spiritual energy, the business model, the illusion of success that had sustained him for so long.
With a final, desperate scream of rage, Collector Wu made one last attempt to maintain control. He summoned all his remaining power, trying to force the spirits back into bondage, but it was too late. The illusion had been broken, and the spirits were choosing freedom.
The entity's form began to dissolve, his power flowing away as his spiritual clients rejected his control. Within moments, there was nothing left of Collector Wu but the faint echo of his angry scream, which quickly faded into silence.
In the aftermath, the apartment was filled with the gentle light of spirits choosing to move on. One by one, the trapped spirits began to fade, their forms becoming more peaceful as they released their attachment to the borrowed luxury.
Zhao Mei Ling was the last to remain. She turned to Mark, Lin Wei, and Captain Chen, her expression filled with gratitude.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For helping me find the courage to choose truth over illusion."
"There's nothing to thank us for," Lin Wei replied gently. "You made the choice yourself."
"Will I be able to find my family?" Zhao Mei Ling asked, her spiritual form beginning to fade.
"They're waiting for you," Captain Chen promised. "And they'll be so happy to see you, not the illusion you created online, but the real you."
As she faded completely, the apartment seemed to grow brighter, as if a weight had been lifted from the space. The oppressive spiritual energy was gone, replaced by a gentle sense of peace and closure.
"We should inform the authorities about what happened here," Mark said quietly, "and about the other victims."
Captain Chen nodded. "My officers will handle the spiritual aspects. You'll need to work with Detective Wang Jun to handle the human side—investigating Quick Money Finance, finding other victims, ensuring this doesn't happen again."
As they left the apartment, Mark couldn't help but think about the tragic nature of the case. A young woman, so desperate for attention and validation that she was willing to sell her soul for temporary luxury, trapped in a cycle of deception until she took her own life.
"This case bothers me more than most," Lin Wei said quietly, as they walked to the elevator. "Because it's so relatable. The pressure to appear successful, the addiction to social media validation, the willingness to do anything to maintain an illusion... so many people struggle with that."
"That's what makes it so dangerous," Mark agreed. "The collector exploited a very human weakness, a vulnerability that exists in all of us to some degree. The desire to be seen as successful, to be admired and respected."
The elevator door opened, revealing the luxurious lobby of Dragon Pearl Heights. Outside, the city spread out before them—countless apartments and houses where people were living their lives, some real, some borrowed, all caught in the endless human struggle for meaning and validation.
"We've made a difference today," Lin Wei said softly. "Not just for Zhao Mei Ling, but for all the other spirits who were trapped in that illusion."
"Yes," Mark agreed, taking her hand. "And we've reminded ourselves of what really matters—not the luxury or the popularity or the illusion of success, but the truth of who we are and the people we love."
As they left the building and returned to their work, they carried with them the memory of Zhao Mei Ling's tragic choice and the bittersweet victory of helping her find peace. The Virtual Police and Spiritual Division would handle the spiritual cleanup, but they knew that the human side of this case would stay with them for a long time.
Because in the end, the scariest monsters weren't the ones with claws and fangs, but the ones that exploited human desperation and vanity, turning the very human desire for happiness into a weapon of spiritual destruction.