I inherited my family’s ancestral compass and became a haunted-house sleep tester.
From the start, I moved into a haunted house where a family of three had hanged themselves. The owner sneered, “If you wet yourself from fright, there’s nowhere to wash up.”
When blood seeped from the chandelier at midnight and a ghost child crawled toward me, I pulled out my compass and sneered. “Is that all?”
A red-clothed schoolgirl ghost begged me to help her move on, while a starving ghost in the mirror gladly became my henchman.
After I subdued an army of a hundred ghosts, the haunted-house industry begged me to become its consultant.
A business rival hired a sorcerer to unleash ten thousand ghosts on me. I simply summoned my ghost-king underling. “Call me Master.”
The underworld was shaken, and the King of Hell came to my door in person. “That compass is a command token of the Underworld. You are its new master.”
The owners who once mocked me now clutch their property deeds and beg through their tears. “Master, you can live in this haunted house as long as you like!”
How come such a good book was suddenly stopped updating after only a few chapters? [What?]