Soul Crosser: Every Dead Person Wants to Drag Me Down

I am a relic organizer. In human terms, it means helping the dead man clean up his mess. Until three o'clock in the morning that day, I was squatting next to the body of a drowned old man and came across an ancient copper coin. My mind exploded. I "saw" the picture of him before he died - he was writing desperately in the palm of his hand, his eyes were not fearful, but eager. And I recognized that line of writing. Those were the last words my mother said before she died. From then on, there was an ancient book in my mind that could turn its pages on its own. It called me a "Soul Crossing Master" and asked me to help the dead get rid of my obsessions. Sound cool? Cool as hell. Every time I cross the soul, I have to "die" from the perspective of the deceased in the nightmare. There is a scripture mark on the wrist that looks like a hot iron. Occasionally, I experience brief blindness in my left eye. And those dead people, aren't they thanking me—— They wanted to pull me down. **Are you sure you want to continue? ** The ancient book in my mind asked me. I looked at the pale gold writing on my palm, and looked at the anonymous text message—— "Your father's clues start with me." My dad has been missing for sixteen years. Continue? I have to fucking keep going.