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He made a complicated series of gestures.

Linghun: "...You know any simpler hand signs?"

He pointed at himself, Linghun, and shook his head.

Linghun: "You can't work in an environment with me in it?"

He shook his head again and gestured at the spirits.

Linghun: "You can't fight me because i have dead souls?"

He shook his head again.

Linghun: "DAMNIT!" he threw a blank book and a pen at him angrily.

He wrote down. "What are those monstrosities?"

Linghun: "Dead souls! good for fighting, intimidation, and curing the eternal loneliness! "

He wrote more. "Are you some kind of necromancer?"

Linghun: "HEY! that's like asking if someone who killed someone is a murderer, of course not! wait.. huh."

"..."

Linghun: "It's less necromancy, more subconscious soul manipulation for those who have no will left. It's very different."

He kept writing. "And if I don't join your group?"

Linghun: "Well, i'm fighting you anyways. It's your choice what i do when i win, recruit you or kill you."

He wrote more. "I never agreed to fight you."

Linghun: "Well it isn't exactly a situation where you can say no, really. The thing with fights, is if you don't fight you just make it easier for me."

He sighed as the ground around him started to frost over.

Linghun: He snapped his fingers and the eight dead souls pounced.