Sze_Hao_Chen

In the year 2024, the cosmic alignment of the Nine Stars breaks the natural order, triggering a resurgence of spiritual energy across Kuala Lumpur. Hidden beneath the serene facade of Kek Lok Si Temple lies an ancient underground chamber, brimming with forbidden knowledge. And at the center of it all stands a man who was never meant to be part of this grand scheme.
Lin Han, a bankrupt real estate agent, is on the run from debt collectors when he accidentally stumbles upon a sinister blood ritual. A mysterious robed figure stands at the heart of it, conducting a ceremony that will change Lin Han’s life forever.
Gifted with the ability to perceive karmic threads through his right eye—an unwanted legacy from a past encounter at Batu Caves—Lin Han begins to unravel truths that defy logic. Along his journey, he crosses paths with an unlikely group: a half-Malay policewoman, a Taoist temple keeper with an ancient chant, an aristocratic Indian dancer, and a rebellious rock singer with secrets of her own.
As the mystical scrolls of Kek Lok Si reveal their deadly secrets, Lin Han finds himself caught in a web of fate far beyond his understanding. Can he harness the combined wisdom of the region’s spiritual traditions—Chinese incense blessings, Malay shamanic rituals, and Indian divine dance—to alter his destiny? Or is he simply another pawn in a celestial game beyond his control?

Mystic Convergence

The temple was eerily silent, except for the blind serpents slithering in the darkness, their movements creating a wet, unsettling sound. Noya's wrist trembled slightly, the serpent-shaped mark on her skin faintly glowing under the dim light, as if a curse lay dormant beneath her flesh.

"If my blood is the offering…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, dreamlike yet resolute.

"Walau eh, you're not seriously considering this, are you?" Ah Rong's face was ashen, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He had never seen this expression on Noya before—half determination, half something more sinister, as though an unseen force was guiding her.

Lin Han remained silent, his gaze locked onto her wrist. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed. The air was thick with the scent of aged incense ashes, yet beneath it, a sharper metallic tang was growing stronger—the unmistakable stench of blood seeping from the temple's depths.

Far away, Bangsar's sirens wailed intermittently, distant and detached, as if centuries apart from the reality within this forgotten temple.

"Do you really know what you're doing?" Lin Han finally spoke, his voice low and tinged with a rare impatience.

Noya inhaled deeply, her fingers tracing over the serpent mark. The instant her touch made contact, the mark seemed to tighten, as if reacting to her presence—alive.

"It's both a curse and a key." Her tone was calm, yet within her eyes, a storm brewed.

A heavy feeling settled in Lin Han's chest. He wanted to stop her, but reason whispered that the path had already been set. If her blood was the key, perhaps it was the only way to unlock whatever truth lay ahead.

Ah Rong abruptly stepped back, shaking his head. "Siao ah! You people read too many of those creepy myths. This kind of thing—how could it be real?!"

Before anyone could respond, an icy chill suddenly rushed through the temple. The temperature plummeted, and an invisible pressure wrapped around them, tightening their lungs. The serpent carvings on the walls seemed to twist slightly, the stone floor beneath them cracking open as an abyss-like fissure spread outward.

Low, wet, slithering—a sound that belonged to something ancient, something awakening after a long, undisturbed slumber.

Noya's pupils contracted. She felt it now—something was pulling at her, a force reaching deep into her core. It wasn't a physical grip, but rather a calling, an awareness of her existence, an entity waiting for her blood.

Lin Han grabbed her wrist suddenly, his grip firm, as if trying to anchor her before she was lost to whatever was summoning her.

"If this is happening, we need to control the ritual, not let it consume you."

Noya lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes. A small smirk curled her lips, but there was no amusement—only bitter irony.

"Do you really think… we still have any control?"

From the temple walls, a black, viscous substance began to ooze, dripping like the decaying remains of something long buried. The air thickened with the sickly-sweet stench of rotting durian, mixed with the unmistakable sharpness of fresh blood.

Ah Rong couldn't hold back anymore. "What the hell is this?"

Because, in the very next moment, a single drip echoed through the chamber.

A drop of liquid had fallen—onto the ground.

Blood was seeping from the serpent mark on her wrist, a crimson bead rolling off her skin and vanishing into the fissure below.

Something beneath them was waking up.

Chapter 46: On the Edge of the Blood Pact