My Crazy Journey with My Summons

In the basement,

Not long ago, Rango had thoroughly searched this room and found it empty aside from the clutter. But now? The place was absolutely packed with ghosts.

Men, women, even infants were gathered, all dressed in wildly different styles, forming a tight circle that made the cramped space feel even smaller.

At the center of this ghostly meeting sat the barely-conscious, badly beaten drag queen ghost who had just taken a brutal beating from Rango.

"I've warned you all countless times!"

A middle-aged male ghost, dressed in a suit from the 1930s or 40s with a fedora and a neatly groomed mustache, pointed furiously at the fallen ghost. "Until Moira finishes assessing the new owner's background, no one is to manifest in front of him! Did you shove my words straight up your ass?!"

The drag queen ghost on the floor seemed like he wanted to defend himself, but after glancing at the man's intimidating presence among the group, he gritted his teeth and stayed silent.

Someone else, a ghost with his arm still draped over the injured one's head, quickly jumped in to explain, "Come on, man, that guy was naked in his bedroom, stretching in seductive poses! He was clearly trying to lure us in!"

"And you," he turned to the mustached ghost, "Just because you died a few decades earlier doesn't mean you get to act like the damn boss around here!"

"You little, "

The mustached ghost looked ready to explode, but before things could escalate, the maid ghost, Moira, who had stayed quiet all this time, finally spoke up. "This homeowner isn't like the others. Judging by what happened to Ryan, he's almost certainly an exorcist."

"I watched him from upstairs. Every time he made a move, there was a flash of blue light from his right hand. If I'm not mistaken, that's his method of exorcism. If we don't stick together this time, he might take us all out in one go."

"Wait a second," one of the other ghosts spoke up, confused. "Aren't exorcists supposed to use holy books, crosses, and holy water? Since when do they use fists? What kind of exorcist is this guy?!"

"Well, we've been stuck in this mansion for years. Maybe the world outside has upgraded its exorcism techniques."

"Damn it! When he first came in, he looked so handsome, I thought he was a good guy. But he's an absolute brute!"

"Seriously! Look at Ryan! The guy doesn't even look like a ghost anymore!"

"This can't go on. We have to do something about him!"

"Moira, you're up! No man alive can resist someone like you… uh, ghost."

"And Elizabeth! Back in your Broadway days, they called you the 'Black Dahlia'! This kind of young guy wouldn't last five seconds against your cougar charm!"

All the ghosts turned toward the corner where Elizabeth was standing.

She was a voluptuous woman in her thirties, dressed in a tight-fitting pencil dress with a fur stole draped over her shoulders. Her full figure stretched the fabric dramatically, and with her smoky eye makeup and ruby lips, she looked like a perfectly ripe peach radiating seductive energy.

She casually puffed on her cigarette, clearly annoyed by all the attention. "I'm not into little boys. If you want to seduce him, let Moira do it."

Moira shrugged. "I would, but I think I already pissed him off earlier."

She then recounted the illusion she had cast in the bedroom and how Rango had reacted.

The whole room fell silent.

Over the past century, this villa has seen its share of homeowners. Most of them had been scared off and left. Some had stayed… and eventually joined the ranks of the bound dead.

But this guy? This was the first time they'd run into someone this troublesome.

A fist-throwing exorcist… In all their years of haunting, they had never seen anything like it.

Just then, a crisp crack rang out, sharp as breaking glass, cutting through the heavy silence.

At the center of the circle, the drag ghost Ryan, already on the brink, could no longer hold together his fragile spirit. Wisps of black smoke curled up from his body. In the next moment, under the stunned gazes of the gathered ghosts, he completely disintegrated into a wisp of blue smoke and vanished.

"Ryan? Ryan!" his ghostly partner cried out in anguish, the sorrowful voice echoing through the basement.

The sight shocked the room into full-blown panic. Up until now, they'd all figured this new homeowner might be dangerous, but at least they could hide from him. Now they realized that he could actually beat a bound spirit to death!

"F**k!"

Everyone turned in desperation toward the man they saw as their leader.

"Dr. Arden, do something!" someone cried. "If that lunatic doesn't leave, it's only a matter of time before we're all taken out one by one! No, obliterated! Gone forever, not even ghosts anymore!"

The focus of every terrified eye, Dr. Arden himself was just as shaken inside. But having always played the role of ringleader, he had no choice but to keep his composure.

Stroking his mustache with a trembling hand, he looked around at the frightened spirits, then puffed out his chest and began his speech with theatrical flair.

"Now that things have come to this, there's only one solution if we want him gone!" He raised a single finger. "Unity! Only by working together can we defeat him!"

"We have doctors, pharmacists, serial killers, actresses. Use your skills! We'll poison him, seduce him, ambush him, we'll throw everything we've got at this cursed exorcist! One of us will succeed!"

"Remember!" His tone sharpened. "The only thing we have to fear… is fear itself! Toss that aside, and he's as good as finished!"

His words hit like an adrenaline shot. The ghosts' morale surged as they raised their fists (or phantom appendages) and shouted in unison, "Kill him! Kill him!"

Dr. Arden smirked slightly. So what if the guy had some exorcist tricks? No human could handle an entire basement full of bound spirits. But just as the atmosphere reached its peak, a set of footsteps echoed from outside the basement door.

The excitement shattered in an instant. Every ghost froze like statues, flinching at the sound. The heavy footfalls grew louder, closer, deliberate.

"He, he, he's coming!"

"What do we do?!"

"Run!!"

In a total reversal, the same spirits who'd just been vowing to destroy Rango now scrambled to flee, diving into the nearest walls as fast as they could.

Dr. Arden looked ready to scold them for cowardice, but the moment he heard the door handle turn, his bravado crumbled.

"Not paid enough to deal with this shit."

Shoving the nearest ghost aside, he bolted straight into the wall himself.

BAM!

The basement door slammed open with force. Rango stepped in, eyes sharp and radiating menace. The room, moments ago full of chaos and shouting, had fallen completely silent.

Only the scattered clutter remained. Not a single ghost in sight.

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