Soul Lock: The Ghost City Tycoon

​Chapter 6 — The First Threshold

Mei Lin drove like hell on wheels.

The black sedan wasn’t a car anymore — it was a bullet cutting through the torn arteries of a dying city.

Alex was crushed against the passenger seat, every bruise in his body flaring with each violent turn. His ribs throbbed from the fall. His cut palm burned. But the world outside hurt more.

The city was unraveling.

A bus smoldered in the middle of an intersection, its melted tires fused to the asphalt. Power lines hung low, spitting sparks that skittered across overturned cars. A scream rose in the distance — sharp, human — and then stopped with a wet crunch.

Alex swallowed.

“This isn’t right,” he said, voice raw. “This isn’t the timeline I remember.”

Every memory of his past life was supposed to be a map. Instead, it twisted inside him like a blade. The apocalypse had rules, a sequence, a rhythm.

But now the rhythm was broken.

A fire truck lay overturned on the shoulder, its siren wailing like a dying animal. Twisted Ghouls clawed through the wreckage — pale, spasming things with bones bent the wrong way. They pulled firefighters out one by one, heads lolling, jaws snapping.

“Don’t look,” Mei Lin said sharply.

She didn’t take her eyes off the road. Her grip was steady, precise — the calm of someone who had made a decision not to feel anything at all.

But Alex felt enough for both of them.

“It’s starting too fast,” he murmured. “The Haunting wasn’t supposed to break like this. Not all at once.”

Rain hammered the windshield. Each drop glowed faintly under the city’s dying lights. The sedan roared through puddles, throwing sheets of water behind them.

A man in a suit bolted into the street, waving frantically.

“Help—!”

His body jerked backward, pulled into the darkness by pale arms. His skull hit the bus-stop glass with a dull thud.

Mei Lin swerved hard right.

They shot into a narrow industrial alley and skidded to a stop, wheels screeching against wet concrete. Steam hissed from the hood.

They were in front of Ling’s Paper Goods.

The hazard lights blinked — two red eyes in the storm.

Mei Lin stared at her phone, screen glowing blue against her pale face.

Alex caught his breath. “Mei?”

“I sent a driver to get Old Man Ling and his family,” she said softly. “My best driver.”

“And?”

“The GPS cut off fifteen minutes ago. One block from Ling’s apartment.”

Alex closed his eyes.

So that’s how it was going to be.

“He’s gone,” he said quietly.

Mei Lin didn’t answer.

But something behind her eyes cracked — not loud, not visible, but like frost crawling across glass.

“You’re right,” she whispered at last. “We can’t save him. We save ourselves.”

Alex nodded grimly. “Then we secure the base.”

He stepped into the storm. Rain soaked him instantly, freezing against his skin. His wounded palm reopened, blood mixing with water.

The warehouse loomed ahead — three stories of steel and old brick, its presence heavy in the dark. The faint scent of sandalwood and ash lingered from the Golden Joss inside.

Mei Lin unlocked the steel door. The deadbolt groaned open like a coffin lid.

They stepped inside.

Darkness swallowed them.

The warehouse was vast — shelves rising like pillars, aisles stretching into shadow. Bundles of paper and crates formed silent mountains. The air was thick with dust, incense, and the faint sweetness of burnt sugar.

“This is it,” Alex said. “Our sanctuary.”

He pulled out the Nine-Turn Lock. Its cold surface glimmered faintly in the dim light of Mei Lin’s phone.

“This place is huge,” she murmured. “One lock can’t cover everything.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Alex said.

He walked to the loading-bay door and knelt.

“Soul Locks don’t seal holes,” he said quietly. “They claim territory. They draw a line the Haunting can’t cross.”

“How?” Mei Lin asked.

“With payment.”

Alex unwrapped his palm. Fresh blood welled from the old cut. He pressed his hand against the ancient lock.

Nothing happened.

Then—

The world held its breath.

Rain outside dulled. The air tightened. Dust seemed to hover in place.

A single metallic click echoed through the entire warehouse — deep, resonant, final.

Bronze light seeped along the edges of the Nine-Turn Lock. The glow ran across the floor, into the beams, up the walls, mapping the entire structure.

Alex felt it hum through his bones.

Then it stopped.

Silence settled.

“It’s done,” Alex whispered. “The seal is active. No Ghoul, no spirit, nothing born of the Haunting can enter.”

Mei Lin exhaled shakily and sagged

End of Chapter 6