Ghost Billionaire
Chapter 60: Cursed And Wraithborns

Chapter 60: Cursed And Wraithborns

Sadly, there was no time to dwell on it. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering toward the pool of blood.

He needed to clean.

He headed to the bathroom, grabbed a bundle of towels, and returned to the floor. He wiped up everything he could find—slow, steady movements—until the wood was visible again. Even though the blood was black, it hadn’t stained. That was the strange part. It wiped clean, like oil. But the smell remained.

By the time he finished scrubbing, tossing the towels into a plastic bag, and stepping into the shower, the sun was just starting to climb. When he walked out, toweling off his hair, the clock read 6:12.

Matthew dressed quickly and left his room, heading downstairs to the kitchen. He planned to grab something—anything—with bleach on it. But as he stepped inside, he saw Cristoff already waiting, standing near the island counter.

"Your breakfast is ready, Young Master," Cristoff said, nodding toward the tray.

Matthew paused for half a second. "Thanks," he said. "I just need to grab something for my room upstairs."

He turned back around and returned to his room, this time pulling a bottle of disinfectant from the cleaning cabinet near the laundry chute.

After spraying the corners, wiping down everything, and double-checking the bed frame for splatter, he tossed the used rags into the same bag as the towels and knotted it tight.

When he came back down again, Cristoff was still waiting, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Cristoff," Matthew said, setting the bottle aside. "Can you check my room later today? Just... make sure it doesn’t smell like death."

Cristoff raised a brow but didn’t ask questions. "Understood. Shall I dispose of any trash you left behind?"

"I got rid of most of it. Just disinfect everything again," Matthew said. "Use the strong stuff."

Cristoff gave a short nod. "Very well. I’ll handle it personally."

Matthew sat at the counter and began eating. He didn’t say much, just focused on clearing the plate. His body was starving, like it had been hollowed out. He thought that he would no longer feel this type of hunger after absorbing that ghost, but clearly, he was wrong. He wondered if this was because of the spirit stone.

Cristoff leaned slightly on the counter. "By the way, Young Master. I was informed that Master Lenox was scheduled to depart this weekend. Shall I prepare something to mark the occasion? A small farewell, perhaps?"

Matthew didn’t even look up. "No need."

Cristoff blinked. "Are you certain? The household staff—"

"I said no," Matthew said, placing his fork down. "Let him go, but you assist him in whatever it is that he needs, furniture and everything else."

Cristoff stared at him before he nodded. "As you wish."

Then Matthew paused. He slowly lifted his gaze. "You know what? I think we should." He had been so busy with everything else that he had almost forgotten about Lenox and the upcoming Valentine’s Day Gala that would happen right after the exams. "I need it to be extravagant. You already know what to do, right?"

This time, Cristoff smiled. "Yes, Young Master."

Matthew nodded as he finished the last bite, stood, and grabbed his bag, his very own spatial bag that resembled his backpack.

Matthew got in the car, closed the door, and buckled in. As the engine started and the gates slid open, he rested his head against the seat.

He quickly analyzed his current strength. He had felt it before. His strength had changed. It seemed that he had gotten stronger—his feet lighter. After absorbing that ghost and feeling its energy settle in his core, he felt more... solid.

Still, he couldn’t help but think about the lies that the ghost girl told him. She said he wouldn’t faint and that the effects would be subtle. She said, that since Matthew had already awakened on his own, absorbing the stone wouldn’t pose any danger to him. This was the Nexian way. He should be able to do it in just a few minutes.

In the end, he vomited blood and actually fainted. Was fainting part of being subtle? He thought inwardly.

"Don’t let me see you again or I swear..." Matthew gritted his teeth in silence.

"You swear what?" the ghost girl’s voice echoed beside him. "Eh? It seems that you’ve gotten stronger. You smell even better than before," the ghost girl added as Matthew opened his eyes. "Can you give me a taste of your soul?" she asked.

Matthew frowned.

"Kidding..." the ghost girl sat beside him. "In fact, you don’t smell as good anymore. How did you learn how to control your scent? It should be like that. Did you absorb more stone?" she eyed him suspiciously.

Since Matthew couldn’t answer without making himself look like he was talking to himself, he simply turned his head the other way, ignoring her.

"Let me tell you this, being greedy isn’t good. This is the first time that you absorbed such a potent stone. You can only absorb one."

And yet, this woman didn’t tell him this last night! Matthew gritted his teeth. "How annoying," he mumbled.

"What? Did you really absorb more? Is that why your scent changed?"

The woman scoffed, folding her arms. "Hmph! You really don’t get it, do you? Spirit stones aren’t toys. Nexians die every year because of greed, ignorance, or both. As someone who just awakened, one stone is usually enough to restore your strength. But if you overdo it, You won’t just pass out. You’ll start changing."

"Overconsumption doesn’t just burn you out. It pushes you toward corruption. First, you will become what we call as Cursed Nexians. Then, if you’re unlucky—or stubborn—you become Wraithborn."

Matthew frowned. He remembered the explanation from before. Cursed Nexians were the ones who lost themselves—warped by absorbing the wrong kind of core or draining too much energy from it until it went hollow. Now it seemed even the stones could tip someone over the edge.

Wraithborns were worse.

They weren’t just broken. They had no soul left. Just raw, consuming hunger for more cores, more stones, anything that could feed their addiction. There was no going back from that.

"They’re not just dangerous," she had said. "They’re monsters wearing the skin of what they used to be."

After a few seconds, she added, "And if you ever come across one Cursed or Wraithborn, there’s only one thing you do: run."

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