Chapter 18: The Haunted School on the Mountain

Rustling sounds—

The footsteps of students echoed through the corridor, yet there was no chatter; nearly everyone clutched a book, deeply engrossed in their studies.

Occasionally, an unlucky soul would stumble from not watching their step, but no one paid them any mind. Even the one who fell would immediately pick themselves up and retrieve their dropped book without a word.

It was now lunchtime.

Crowds of students packed the hallways and the square leading to the cafeteria.

The atmosphere remained oppressively stifling.

“Do you really think we won’t end up depressed after five days? I’m already feeling restless,” whispered Tuxing Sun to Baili Dao, lowering his voice.

They dared not speak loudly.

Although the other students ignored everyone, given the grim fate of Qinghe Yikan, they could no longer treat these seemingly harmless schoolchildren as ordinary humans.

There was a strange, eerie tale mixed in.

Any one of these passing students could suddenly turn violent and devour them.

The worst part was that they didn’t even know the conditions that triggered this supernatural phenomenon.

“Do you think such generous rewards from a targeted dungeon just fall from the sky like free pancakes? Naturally, the difficulty rises accordingly,” Baili Dao sighed.

The base reward was a piece of ordinary equipment.

Equipment’s rarity far surpassed typical items, and crucially, rewards could stack with no upper limit.

In other words, theoretically, they could obtain equipment of epic or even legendary grade!

In the outside world, even the most basic ordinary equipment auctions for at least a hundred thousand, and slightly better items fetch millions.

For ordinary players, obtaining a single piece of ordinary equipment meant long-term financial security.

As always—the Spirit Disaster game was fair.

Dungeon difficulty and the richness of rewards were always proportional.

“Is everything okay with Shigandang? He’s staying in the infirmary taking care of Qinghe Yikan—doesn’t that violate school rules?” Baili Dao worried about their teammates.

After buying their meals, they sat down at the table.

Looking up, they saw clocks hanging all around the cafeteria, each second marked by a noisy ticking.

They had made no progress.

Tuxing Sun mumbled vaguely while eating, “What can we do? You want to drag him away? Come on, those two are lovey-dovey; our priority is to find clues.”

Gotta say, the ghost school’s food was pretty good.

Considering the relentless studying method, if nutrition lagged behind, many students might just drop dead from anemia caused by sleep deprivation and constant mental strain.

This wasn’t out of mercy from the ghost school.

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It simply deemed that poor nutrition negatively impacting studying was not worth the cost.

“The problem is here—no access to the black room for now, can’t find the art building, and the homeroom teacher’s secret...” Baili Dao’s expression grew strange.

He had some unsettling thoughts.

He then sighed, “Shigandang said the principal only trusts the homeroom teachers of Class 7 and Class 1. Since he’s stuck in the infirmary, I, being in Class 1, have to get close to Homeroom Teacher Yao Qing.”

“But the moment I got back, he was like he’d swallowed dynamite. Before I could say anything, he pointed at the mess Liu Yang’s explosion made around me and scolded me fiercely, ordering me to wash up spotless before entering the classroom.”

“Man, I feel cursed—didn’t do anything, and all NPCs seem to be targeting me.”

Baili Dao stretched helplessly.

Who knew what medicine Teacher Yao had taken to be so irritable after just stepping outside?

Liu Yang too—without a word, he exploded right on the spot, causing Baili Dao to have to wash up for ages.

Bang—

The two were chatting, unaware a student carrying an empty tray passed behind them. Baili Dao’s stretching accidentally bumped into him.

The tray fell, clattering onto the floor.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll help you clean up,” Baili Dao said casually, bending down to pick up the tray and utensils.

But as he leaned forward—

A chill shot up his spine to his head.

Having experienced several dungeons reaching Lv6, Baili Dao keenly sensed what this meant, and instinctively dodged to the side.

Hiss—

His reaction was fast enough.

Even Sun Xingzhe, sitting across, didn’t see what happened before Baili Dao had already retreated three meters away.

Yet he still clutched his lower back, face pale and contorted in pain.

His school uniform had a large tear, and blood continuously seeped from the wound at his lower back, the bright red droplets stark against the pristine floor.

Close—

He had nearly been cut in half at the waist!

“What the hell is that thing? Is it the ghost that Qinghe Yikan mentioned?” Tuxing Sun quickly moved in to cover Baili Dao.

The student whose tray was knocked over instantly had his skin tear open, dozens of blue tentacles sprouting out. From his chest emerged a ghostly hand wielding a handmade knife—an utterly terrifying specter.

That handmade knife had easily pierced Baili Dao’s lower back.

The strangest thing was that none of the nearby students looked up from their meals.

They continued chewing and reading their exercise books without batting an eye.

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“Color... you have his color... where did you take him...” the specter muttered indistinctly.

Before the two could make sense of this, it suddenly roared and lunged at them, tentacles thrashing wildly.

Baili Dao gritted his teeth and pulled a band-aid from his pocket, pressing it over the gaping wound.

The nearly three-finger-wide cut visibly healed before their eyes under the tiny bandage!

Clearly, this was an item.

“Run! Head to the teaching building—go to the homeroom teacher’s office!” Baili Dao decided on the spot.

Facing it head-on was obviously foolish.

Everyone knew how Qinghe Yikan ended up.

The best plan was to find the homeroom teacher. Surely they wouldn’t let this ghost run rampant, killing students.

After all, they were students now.

Students who hadn’t broken any rules and whose grades were decent.

In a way, the ghost school favored high-achieving students.

Baili Dao had noticed this in Teacher Yao’s attitude toward the widower—despite seeming disdain, he allowed the widower to go to the restroom and even gave plenty of time to explore.

The reason was simple—he was top of the class.

Crash! Crash!

Tables and chairs were overturned by the ghost’s thrashing tentacles, spilling soup and food everywhere. Several innocent students were slashed across the neck by the ghostly hand wielding the knife.

“Damn! This thing is contagious!” Tuxing Sun cursed as he glanced back while fleeing.

Because he saw that those students who should have died from having their necks cut were getting back up.

Their skin started tearing open.

Then colorful tentacles burst forth from their bodies—in red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple.

The previously oppressive, stifling atmosphere vanished completely, replaced by a nightmarish scene of demonic chaos.

“This is it... the ghost school has truly become a nightmare...”