I'm Trapped in the Block

’Not the Natural Gas Race?’

Recalling how sparks had just scattered from within the ghost’s body, Mo Ling suddenly understood.

It didn’t ignite! No wonder Shibeng was so certain.

"Why did you lie to us?" Shibeng demanded.

"I am from the Natural Gas Race! You’ll burn me to death." The ghost was still playing dumb, completely ignoring Shibeng’s question and instead just blaming him.

"Sparks just passed right through your body, and you’re still trying to deny it? What in the world are you?" Shibeng pressed on.

But the ghost was like a broken record, still harping on about Shibeng’s actions.

"You can’t do that! It will catch fire!"

"You’ll destroy the entire stone pillar!"

...

Even though it had already been tested with fire, the ghost was still spouting this illogical nonsense.

It was as if Shibeng and the ghost were talking on two completely different wavelengths.

The ghost refused to answer Shibeng’s questions directly, instead just shamelessly condemning what he had done.

After a few more questions, Shibeng finally sensed that something was off.

This ghost was just like a broken record.

He stopped asking questions and just stood there, watching with bewilderment as the ghost in mid-air continued to berate him.

The ghost completely ignored the fact that sparks had passed through its body, diverting the conversation in another direction.

It started throwing a tantrum like a child again, its words becoming mindless.

Shibeng had likely realized this ghost wasn’t from the Natural Gas Race and tried a surprise test, but this outcome seemed to have left him stumped as well.

The ghost’s condemnations soon alerted its companions.

Liquid began to drip steadily from the crevice. After hitting the ground, the liquid transformed into misty, humanoid figures.

When they heard that Shibeng had tried to start a fire, they also began to point and jeer at him.

Shibeng stared at the figures on the ground for a moment, as if he had noticed something else.

He shot toward the figures in a single bound. His movements were more practiced this time. He repeated his earlier trick, creating sparks inside each of the ghosts, one by one.

Witnessing Shibeng’s "dangerous act," these ghosts, just like the first one, flew into the air and resumed pointing and jeering at him.

"None of you are from the Natural Gas Race?" Shibeng began to tremble again. He had created sparks inside every single ghost, and the result was always the same.

The bizarre scene unfolding before him began to frighten him again. He whipped around and hid behind the Block.

"Friend, something’s wrong with them. They’re not the Natural Gas Race," Shibeng said fearfully. He had lost his nerve.

"What are they, then? Can you tell?" Li Luo asked.

"I don’t know. I’ve seen the Natural Gas Race before, and their current composition isn’t natural gas. I can tell that much. But as for what it is, I have no idea. I’ve never seen this material before."

Shibeng spoke cautiously. Hiding behind the Block seemed to put him at ease.

Their condemnations turned to curses, and the ghosts began to approach the Block, seemingly preparing to attack.

Their bodies began to converge, different ghosts merging into one another as they drew near.

Not only that, but many more ghosts dripped from the crevice and began to gather with the ones outside.

Before long, they had formed an extremely dense white fog.

The same kind of ripples that had appeared on the solid Mineral Race began to undulate across the dense fog, looking even more intense.

’What are they planning?’ Mo Ling was baffled.

Watching the dense fog, Shibeng started trembling again. He hugged his arms and pressed himself tightly against the back of the Block.

"Friend, they’re about to attack! Do something!"

As Shibeng spoke, a tornado-like tentacle shot out from the dense fog, striking at the Block.

The tentacle began to solidify in mid-air, first turning to liquid, then becoming like ice, its sharp, conical tip aimed directly at the Block.

The ice cone plunged swiftly toward the Block with ferocious momentum.

It seemed the Natural Gas Race wasn’t so weak after all.

Although the ice cone was fast, it seemed to have been compressed, making its volume quite small.

An attack like this posed no threat to Mo Ling, who had already expanded his Block Space.

With just a casual capture, the menacing ice cone vanished from the sky.

Inside the Block Space, Mo Ling studied the teleported ice cone for a moment. Finding nothing special about it, he casually tossed it onto the ground outside.

However, Mo Ling’s actions seemed to provoke an even more violent reaction from the dense fog.

Another continuous barrage of ice cones shot out, but Mo Ling neutralized them all, one by one.

’Is this their only move?’

The fog was immense and intimidating, enough to blot out the sky, but its method of attack was ridiculously simple. It was just a paper tiger.

Before long, the ground beside the Block was littered with the ice cones Mo Ling had tossed out.

Only a short time passed before the ice cones rapidly vanished, turning directly into gas.

’Sublimation?’

Mo Ling looked at the ice cones, puzzled.

When the fog condensed these ice cones, they passed through a liquid phase. So why did they sublimate directly once they were on the ground?

Mo Ling simply filed this curious phenomenon away in his mind and continued to deal with the fog’s assault.

But the fog was indeed too weak. After just a short period of attacking, its color had faded significantly, becoming much less dense.

Its form had also shrunk considerably, and it seemed listless, as if the recent attacks had consumed too much of its energy.

’Is that all it has?’

Just as Mo Ling was pondering this, the dense fog began to change again.

He snapped to attention, eager to see what the fog would do next.

The dense fog began to writhe. The undulating ripples suddenly vanished, as if they had hit some kind of barrier.

A few ghosts broke free from the fog, their faces masks of uncontrollable fear, and fled toward the crevice for their lives.

Streams of air continuously blew outward from within the fog, as if gaseous ghosts were escaping, causing the fog’s edges to tremble like a leaky balloon.

Soon, the dense fog was torn and tattered, looking like a piece of cotton candy riddled with holes.

Mo Ling breathed a sigh of relief. ’So they’re just trying to escape. I thought it was some ultimate attack. I really overestimated them.’

He teleported a few more times, capturing the fleeing ghosts. He then casually tossed them out, and they stopped moving, dissipating into gas.

This terrifying act of annihilation by Mo Ling was the last straw. The fog could no longer hold its form and burst apart, scattering into a dozen or so remaining ghosts.

’Is that all that’s left?’

It seemed their previous attacks had really taken a huge toll on them.

Though terror was written on all their faces, the separated ghosts continued to ceaselessly condemn Shibeng, who was still behind the Block.

"Don’t start fires! Don’t start fires! We won’t forgive you fire-starters!"

’Why are they so obsessed with that?’

Mo Ling was confused. Shouldn’t they be more concerned with the Block?

Just then, another ghost dripped out of the crevice.

It looked exactly the same as all the other ghosts present.

But in Mo Ling’s vision, this particular ghost was especially conspicuous.

Because on its head, it wore a misty bandana.

Even stranger, two gaseous donkey ears were sprouting from the gaps in the bandana...